The Fall of America | Book 10 | No Winners

by Benton, W. R.

  Both men knocked their drinks back and then John refilled the glasses.

  "I thank you for the expert assistance, Officer Cuvier. Without you, the hotel would have lost a huge section of this place and four people would have been killed."

  "Renée is the best there is and without her, we'd all be dead right now. Without her and Hugues we would have been in serious trouble. I thank God I have good people working with me."

  "Why are you working in New York, if you are French? I mean you sound French."

  "Most of the hotel staff is French, and that includes most maids, clerks, and policemen assigned here. The owner of the place thinks French workers add to the atmosphere of the hotel. I was born in France and came to America two years before the fall. This part of New York is called Little France, so you can see why. I was lucky and got hired as a cop four years back, mainly because I'm fluent in French."

  "I thank God you were on duty today."

  "I need to complete my search, just in case they planted more than one bomb." He moved to the big German Shepherd and they began walking around. Finally, after about ten minutes, the officer said, "You're clean. Now, I need to call EOD and have them come for the C4."

  "Why didn't they respond with you or come here alone to help me?"

  "To be honest, most of the calls we get are a misunderstanding. Mostly it's someone sees wires coming out from a backpack that is deserted and they think there is a bomb there. If I'd had the time, I would have called them to work with the bomb, but we didn't have the time."

  "I understand. Let me go down and fetch Joy in the restaurant. I imagine she's in the French coffee shop. Are you completely done in here?" John asked and then put his beat up cowboy hat on.

  "Yes, and I will walk down with you."

  As they left the room, John had the guards get into positions again and then they moved to the elevator.

  At the restaurant, John discovered Joy having coffee, so he ordered one. The waitress looked at him as if he was crazy when he asked for a regular coffee and black.

  Joy shook her head and said, "Here we are in New York, a city known for 50 different ways to drink coffee and you want a regular coffee and black."

  "I want coffee, not milk or sugar with a small amount of coffee in the drink. I grew up drinking black coffee, because when I was in the service, I didn't want to pack one ounce of anything I didn't need. I even tore the covers off of paperbacks I carried to avoid packing them in my backpack. Imagine a 60 pound pack and you want to add a book. You paid in sweat for everything you carried with you."

  The waitress brought him his coffee and then walk away to fetch someone's order.

  "I can understand that. I was just teasing you."

  "This has been a long night." he said and then glanced at his watch. “It's just now 0130 and we must leave at 0630, so we'll not get much sleep here."

  "Let's finish our coffee and leave. Every bit of sleep will make a difference." she said and then stood.

  "Joy, I'm sorry I brought you along and into all of this mess now. Sit back down for a couple of minutes."

  Joy smiled, sat down, and said, "It's no different than back home. I faced death most days there and survived. I'll survive this too, General."

  John laughed and said, "Twenty years ago I was worried about making Sergeant and here I am, soon to be a Major General."

  "Oh? Do you have word of another promotion?" she asked.

  "No, but the Medal of Honor comes with an automatic promotion, no matter who gets the award. I just don't feel I deserve it. I mean, the Medal of Honor. I simply did my job and completed my mission."

  "I think they, the brass, see that you completed your mission when most people would not have finished the job. Besides, you were seriously wounded and still did what was needed done."

  "Maybe that's true, but that mission still haunts me sometimes."

  "Few people can kill and enjoy it. I think it's healthy for you to regret killing people, but those you killed helped to shorten this war by a great number of years. The Russians are a hard headed people, so you are more than just a peace table member, but a real hero in many eyes. I think all Medal of Honor recipients have PTSD. If not, it'd surprise the hell out of me."

  Tired of talking about a subject that depressed him, even just thinking about it, he asked, "You about ready to go?"

  She gulped the last of her coffee and then said, "Sure, let's go."

  John stood and tossed a ten dollar bill on the table and walked away.

  Chapter 14

  Senior Sergeant Filippovna stood at attention in front of the Base Commanders desk as he gave his verbal mission brief. The Colonel nodded at times, but listened very carefully to the experienced Sergeant.

  "And, once released from the hospital I came here, sir."

  "I am afraid all the deaths and pain were for nothing, Sergeant. Just days ago a peace treaty was signed with the United States. The cease fire and end of combat ended the same day at 1800 hours. We have since informed them that a few units, like yours, did not have radio contact and there was no way we could stop the missions."

  "Sir, my radio worked until earlier this morning when I think it was damaged during an attack. I could have been recalled days ago."

  Giving a slight grin, Colonel Milomir Igorevich, replied, "I do not think you heard me, Senior Sergeant, your radio was destroyed on your second day in the bush."

  "Yes, I see now, sir. Any reports of how our mission went after we left the dam?"

  "The dam is a total loss and downstream over 100 homes as well, and approximately 2,000 people have been killed. The biggest loss was at a Federal Campground site where a good thousand were living in old popup campers and Recreational Vehicles. It just wiped the whole place clean."

  Looking at his feet, the Sergeant said, "I am sorry to hear that, sir. Only we had no idea the war was over."

  "I am well aware of that, Sergeant. See, to me, the killings and blowing up the dam with a suitcase nuke means nothing. The media on both sides are jumping up and down claiming we knew the war was over. Yes, we knew, but we could not act without approval from Moscow and we just got that this morning."

  "I wish I had not used something that will render the place unsafe for countless generations. The fallout alone will kill more Yankees, sir."

  "That is true, but I will report to Moscow we could not contact you because your radio was damaged, which is the truth, just when it was damaged is not accurate. They will take over the handling of the media and our reason is valid to the world, while some will not believe us, but public opinion has never bothered the Russian Bear much.”

  "Intelligence has discovered the leader of the old partisan group the Aces, who has been promoted to brigadier General, and signed the peace treaty to end this war, is on a hit list and attempts have been made on his life." the General continued.

  "I heard of the Aces years back. They were a mean group when I heard about them but the General is just a man, and can die."

  "The American General is no normal man. He won the Medal of Honor for placing a nuclear bomb in Jackson, Mississippi, that killed hundreds of thousands of Russians and is still killing some from radiation sickness. He was wounded so badly they thought he'd die, but yet he finished his mission before he called for help. No one can live there now and it will be years before it is clean. I have a job for you, Sergeant, but you can turn it down."

  "Oh? And, what kind of job, sir?"

  "I want you to kill the American General. Before you say no, know that the mission is Top Secret and approved by Moscow. Because you are a member of Spetsnaz, I know I can trust you to discuss this mission in full. If your mission is a success, you will be promoted to a Full Colonel, retire with 100 percent of your Colonel pay, and I will personally get you a nice farmhouse with 100 acres. I have also arranged for you to be awarded the Hero of Russia medal, which has many benefits for the wearer. I mean you get free transportation in country, bonus pay each month because of the meda
l, free room anytime on a military base, and a lot more. I will also allow you to retire years early, so you can get out of the service young enough to enjoy the fruit of your hard work."

  "What do we know about the man?" the Sergeant asked.

  Lifting a thick file, the Colonel said, "Plenty. In this folder you will find some poor pictures of him doing various things. I will give you authorization to visit the online site that is tightly controlled so you can memorize all you need to know. He is not a heavy drinker, does not chase wild women, and before the war he was in the American Special Forces, but we are unable to learn much about that time. We do know that while on active duty in a parachute unit, he reach the high rank of Staff Sergeant, in just three years. That is very rare and while not impossible, it does not happen often in their army. He entered the war against us as a Captain and will soon be a Two Star General. This man is intelligent."

  "Ranger qualified too, I imagine."

  "Yes, honor graduate of his class. He now has an unknown number of Purple Hearts, for wounds, and will soon have the highest medal for bravery that the old United States used to give their heroes. Besides the big medal, he also has two Army Distinguished Service Cross (DSC) Medals, and an unknown number of silver and bronzes stars. Watch your ass when you go after him, or Spetsnaz will be short a Senior Sergeant."

  Filippovna chuckled briefly and replied, "Sir, I am no honor grad of anything in the military, I am not known for my exceptional intelligence, but with 12 years of military service for the Motherland I have never failed to complete any mission I have taken, not a one. I am better trained than 98% of all special operations men or women in all the world. I am Spetsnaz and if I decide to go after this man, he is dead...Sir." The Sir on the end was a little delayed to convey seriousness of qualifications.

  The men of Spetsnaz were constantly told they were the best the world had to offer and being the top Russian rank of any enlisted men in their army, he knew he was exceptionally good, if not the absolute supreme soldier the world had to offer. He felt his self confidence had been earned over the years he'd served in the army.

  All of Spetsnaz were trained to never leave a mission as long as there was any chance of completing the assignment. Their training was supposed to be more difficult, mentally and physically than American Seal training. The Senior Sergeant knew if he got on John's ass, he'd never quit until one or both of them were dead. He'd be like a dog protecting his bone from the world. Nothing would stop him from completing his mission.

  "Well, what do you say, Senior Sergeant?"

  "Can I look his package over on line and then let you know? My main concern is not killing the man, all men can be killed, but killing him and not being discovered as Spetsnaz. I think two serious missions after the truce killings could, uh, end my career. If I can see a way to complete the mission and do so safely, I'll do the job. Remember, sir, all men have weaknesses, I just have to find his and take him out when I can."

  "Here is the URL for the site, the login name, and password. If you have any problems getting into the site, do not keep trying or it will lock you out and then alert a webmaster. If you cannot log in once, call me and try no more. I seriously think you will have no problems and I want you to meet with me at 0700 hours in the morning, here, before I go to stand up. I need an answer then, Senior Sergeant."

  "Yes, sir." He placed the paper with the site information into his left shirt pocket.

  "You may go now, Sergeant. I hope we get to work together again soon."

  Snapping to attention, the Senior Sergeant said, "I hope we work together again too, sir." He then saluted the Full Colonel, did an about face movement, and left the office. Now, he'd slide by the club for supper, a couple of shots of Vodka, and then to his room to learn about General John Williamson.

  No one he knew was at the senior Sergeant's club and many of the top two ranks would not be in there until after 1700 when their work day ended. He skipped the vodka, not wanting to drink alone, but he did have an after supper drink usually. He had a quick meal and made his way back to his room.

  Once inside his quarters, he pour two fingers of top shelf vodka and signed into the web site about the General. The pictures of the man were nothing special and some of them showed him back in his younger army days. The man didn't look unusual or have any features that would draw any eyes to him. He looked like someone taken off a bus and photographed. While he didn't look more intelligent than the average man, his IQ was 150, which meant he had better than average intelligence and could not be taken lightly. At first glance, his cowboy hat gave him a country hick look, but Filippovna knew many farmers and country folks in Russia that were exceptionally intelligent.

  No special training that was unusual, Ranger, Jump qualified, then he left the military and opened his own security business. His company provided guards and security systems for buildings and firms, as well as offering bodyguards for folks in the area that felt they needed protecting. According to the information on the site, he'd done well until the country fell. Then, he joined the partisans, formed the Aces, and began killing Russians. His Medal of Honor would be for a classified mission and his actual act of valor would concentrate on his completing his mission while severely injured, but the when, what, and where would be missing.

  Taking a gulp of his drink, the Sergeant thought, Killing this man would be the ultimate test of my training. I cannot turn it down, no way, but I need to use extra care or I will end up dead.

  He went to bed early and was up at 0500 hours, sipping his morning tea, when he turned the television on. He liked to watch the news each morning and this was his time of the day, reserved only for him to relax and form a positive attitude to face the coming day.

  The man on the TV said, "The Kremlin announced today that the Russian military forces in America are finally coming home. According to General Gena Yanovich, a peace treaty was signed recently, and an agreement was reached with the United States. The General stated he signed for Russia and within 6 months all of our troops will be home. We spoke to some random soldiers in Moscow a few minutes ago and I take you to Galina Petrov who is on the streets now speaking to our soldiers.

  "So, Private, what do you think of the war in America ending?"

  "I am a soldier and go where I am told to go. I personally have nothing against Americans, but I do not make policy."

  Looking at a female soldier beside the man, Galina asked, "And, miss, how do you feel about the peace treaty?"

  "Like most soldiers I pray for peace, but I also understand that war is part of world affairs and I will fight to the death for Mother Russia."

  The camera moved in close to Galina Petrov who then said, "Fedyenka, most of the military personnel I have spoken with state they follow orders and the people they fight are not personal enemies, but enemies of the Russian state. As soldiers, sailors, Marines, and airmen, they go and do what they are ordered to do. Many seemed to admire the American people and especially their cowboys and other Westerners. Back to you, Fedyenka. This is Galina Petrov, TV12, reporting, 'Only the Best News on your TV.'”

  "There you have it. After hundreds of thousands of deaths in America and hundreds home protesting the war in that foreign country, it is now all over. Now a word from our sponsors and then back to Tyree Popov with the weather."

  The Sergeant turned the Television off and gave thought to how many men had lost their lives in this country. He'd lost friends in this place, and yet, he knew good men died in bad wars. He shook his head, glanced at his watch and then dressed for his appointment with the Commander.

  "Did you read the information about the General?"

  "Yes, Colonel, I did. He is well trained, intelligent, experienced, and of course deadly. I see him as a fellow professional, but he probably does not see himself as anything but a cowboy. Keep in mind, sir, cowboys and Mexican sheep herders died at the Alamo. None of them, not really, were professional soldiers, except maybe Colonel 'Jim' Bowie, Colonel James C. Neill, and Colon
el William Travis. All were pretty much volunteers, too. The whole Mexican army, led by General Santa Anna, numbered over 6,000 strong. The Alamo only had approximately 200 defenders and the Mexican's brought over 2000 men to the battle. When it was all over, between 400 and 600 dead Mexicans lay in the area around the Alamo. Less than six weeks later, Santa Anna was captured and the war was over."

  "What does all of the history lesson mean, Sergeant?"

  "It means to me, sir, it does not take a professional soldier to lose a battle and win a war. All we do brings repercussions and I need to think about how killing this General will change our situation. Remember, for every action, there is an equal reaction, sir."

  "Simple, do not be caught alive. Mother Russia will disown you, but I am repeating orders from the Kremlin. They will not be dragged into any assassination attempt by you and will deny you are a member of our military. Odds are good, if you kill the man, the Americans will associate his death with the hit list he is on. Others have tried to kill him, even a few in Paris, but he is not an easy man to kill."

  The Sergeant replied, "I understand, sir. I have been on missions like this before. I always carry a glass pill I can bite and be dead in a short minute or two. I have never been caught or seriously injured in my whole career of 12 years. But, the General can and will be killed, if I go after him. You know I can shoot any man dead at a mile away, because Spetsnaz trains us to shoot targets at that distance. I have killed three men as a sniper and all were killed at about the one mile range. So, if I take this task, which I want to, when do I start?"

  "First, once you know what you need to know about the man, you will leave when you feel prepared to go. How many men will you need to go with you?"

  "Two others. I need a spotter and a medic. I want no one dual trained as a Medic and Spotter, because I have never met one that could work worth a damn as a medic or spotter. I want two men, each one trained in spotting or medical."

  "You will have them. Supplies?"