The Fall of America | Book 9 | Operation Instant Fury

by Benton, W. R.

  They were now over the ocean and within an hour the bomb would explode. The mechanical aspect of the bomb was having problems, because with one hour left, the clock should have been showing the number of minutes until detonation, but it did not. An hour went by and nothing happened at all; the bomb was alive but could go off any second, or would it?

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking and we are descending 18,000 feet for the rest of our flight to Moscow. At that altitude, we will experience some turbulence and the crew recommends you keep your seat-belt on at all times. I have seen these rain squalls turn pretty rough. Please contact your stewardess if you have any questions. I want to also thank you for choosing Russian Blue Air as the airline for your flight. I hope you fly with us again.”

  Hot meals were being handed out and of course he was hungry. The Colonel took a warm tray from his stewardess and began to eat.

  The aircraft was flying smoothly when he stopped eating and ordered another double whiskey. His courage up, thanks to the drinks, he told the stewardess, “Here is my card. If you would like to go out for supper some night, give me a call.”

  “Are you single?” she asked.

  “No, I am married, but not happily. I need a woman on the side that knows how to please a man and to keep him happy. I am sure a General could open a lot of doors for a beautiful woman who would also be given some financial assistance on a regular basis. Do you know a woman like that?”

  “I think I know one, but the relationship must be discreet, or the whole thing is off. Where does one apply for this wonderful job?”

  Yurievich pulled out a card and pen, where he wrote down the hotel and room he would be staying tonight. Tomorrow he'd meet with the other Generals and learn about his new job. Since his wife would be at home, he'd have two nights to enjoy this beauty in the city and then he'd have to start working. She was invited but stated she was ill. He knew she didn't want anything to do with the current government. He'd return home later, spend a few days, and then back to the city. His wife, a plump country girl, had no urge to visit Moscow, so he could get an apartment for this woman and himself. Just the thought made his heart beat faster. He then said, “Be there tonight at 1930 hours. It is there you will be tested and I am sure you will do fine.”

  Looking at the card she smiled and said, “My hotel here is at the same place, so I will just walk up a flight to be on your floor. I may show early, especially if I think about the test very long. Would that be a problem?”

  “No, come and visit when the urge hits, but keep in mind I will want to shower, eat and then get a little sleep.”

  “I will do the same, so I will be there on time. I look forward to this test, very much.”

  “Now I must sleep a little.”

  The aircraft suddenly dropped a good 500 feet and everyone screamed until the pilot finally leveled the flight out.

  “This is your Captain again, we just had a little disturbance and I warned you about it before. Now you can see why we suggest you keep your seat-belt on. You can expect more, but I do not think we will have another one that severe. Stewardesses, to your assigned positions.”

  The stewardess handed the General a card and he noticed her name was Lena Stepanovna. He found her address and phone number.

  He said, “Thank you for the card. I must say, if you need me, call me during the day and I will get you on my cell phone. Never call my home number, or if it is a serious emergency, call and leave a message that you are Colonel somebody and ask me to call you back.”

  “I understand. I will see you this evening.”

  “Yes, my dear, and I look forward to your test.” He pulled a blue eye mask down over his eyes, reclined his seat and wrapped up in the blanket the stewardess had given him. After the meal and drinks, he was asleep in no time.

  The bomb in the hold was affected by the drop of the aircraft and sudden stop. The timer reset and it would be another 6 hours before it exploded. That meant the plane would be on the ground and suitcase in the holding area. The face of the clock showed the time remaining.

  Four hours later, the pilot came on the intercom again and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Moscow and have been given approval for a straight in approach and landing. Please fasten all seat-belts and stewardesses, to your assigned seats, please. I want to remind everyone, remain seated until the aircraft comes to a complete stop.” A series of bells were suddenly heard on the speaker.

  It was right at sunrise and looking out the window Yurievich saw parts of Moscow, and he immediately grew homesick. He thought of good foods, alcohol, and the beautiful woman that wanted to visit his room this night. He had a lot to live for now, and all the years of hard work were finally paying off. He stretched in his seat and yawned. I am so glad to be home. I am almost as happy with the Mistress I have found. All Generals have a woman on the side, only I never thought I would ever make Major, much less General. I am moving up in the world, he thought as he prepared for landing.

  He heard the whirling noise of a small engine as the pilot adjusted the flaps for a landing. The aircraft seemed to be moving so slowly when he looked out the window, seeing hangers, aircraft, and some workers moving with tool-bags in their hands.

  He heard a loud screech as the rear wheels struck the pavement of the runway and then a slight bump that jarred his folded up table. Looking out the window, he could see they were moving past the Moscow terminal. The flaps were raised and the brakes were pushed as the aircraft engines were switched to reverse. Gradually they began to slow down.

  In the storage bay the bomb still showed another 6 hours before detonation. If Sam Burns had known the bomb they'd risked so much with was a victim of a poor quality watch and right now was unstable, he would have cursed a stream. All that risk for a faulty timing device.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are currently in Moscow, Russia, and the local time is 0613. The weather is 8 degrees Celsius with winds out of the west at 16 kilometers per hour. The forecast for today is rain and storms moving in later this evening. Those of you going on to Penza, Russia will stay in the holding area and will depart as soon as the aircraft has been refueled. Do not leave the terminal and keep your boarding pass to return to your seat. Everyone with tickets to Moscow you may disembark now. I want to thank all of you for flying Russian Blue Air Ways and I enjoyed being your pilot on this flight. Remember us for your future travels. Please enjoy your day.”

  As soon as Yurievich left the aircraft he was met in the terminal by a Major holding a sign that read, “General Ludomir Yurievich, I am your assistant.”

  When Yurievich neared the Major, he said, “I am General-Select Yurievich.”

  The major snapped to attention, saluted him, and then said, “Sir, if you will come with me, I have orders to get you to your hotel room so you may rest. I have a Senior Sergeant getting your bags now. I have a limousine waiting for you outside. I trust you had a good flight.”

  “It was fine.”

  “Sir, your driver has a tray of fruit and cheese for you, along with some German wines and Russian vodka, if you wish to partake of either. Please follow me and we will get you comfortable for the short ride to your hotel.”

  “Yes, let us wait in the car where I can nibble on some cheese and have a glass of wine. I do not think my stomach can take vodka this time of the morning.” he said and then moved toward a black stretch limousine parked in a no parking zone.

  Wow, all of this is for me! I never dreamed a General was treated like this. I have my own limousine and driver. I will bet my room is a beautiful suite too, he thought and then unknowingly smiled.

  He looked out the window and saw a Russian Infantry Senior Sergeant packing his two bags. They were placed in the trunk and then the Sergeant and the Major got in the car. The Sergeant sat in the front seat with a loaded Bison and four hand-grenades within easy reach. The Major seated across from the General-Select asked, “Do you wish to listen to some soft music, sir?”<
br />
  “Yes, that would be nice, thank you.”

  The Major turned on what he called elevator music and then said, “The Senior Sergeant, his name is Rollan Ruslanovich, is your enlisted assistant. He will make sure your uniform is correct, your medals are lined up properly and take care of shining your boots. He is well suited for the job and volunteered when he discovered you were a combat veteran because he is, as well.”

  The car only went a couple of blocks when they neared a lighted building and in seconds they were underground, where VIPs were taken. The basement was used because it kept the individual from prying eyes. Not everyone in Russia loved Generals. And after the thousands killed in America, more than one threat had been made on the lives of Russian officers.

  The engine was turned off and the driver was suddenly beside Yurievich's door. He opened the door and gestured for him to move toward an elevator.

  Ludomir watched the Sergeant take his two bags and then followed everyone to the elevator. A few short minutes later, the door opened on the lift and everyone walked inside. The Major pushed floor 3 and then grinned. Turning to the soon to be General he said, “Sir, you will find your suite more than comfortable, with a beautiful floral arrangement, a fruit basket, and a quart of Russia's best vodka. If you have any problems with the room, just let me know. I am in room 215, one floor lower than yours. I am here to make your introduction into the General Assembly as smooth as it can be.”

  “I will remember that.” He replied, but he'd already forgotten the man's room number. If he had a problem, he'd call the front desk, and not some Major.

  The elevator stopped, the door opened and the Major said, “Take a left, sir, and we will soon be in room 317. I hope you enjoy your room.”

  Once in the room, Yurievich was shocked at how beautiful it was. Original oil paintings lined the walls and a crystal chandelier hung over his bed. The bathroom had a whirlpool as well as a heart shaped tub with shower. Never had he seen a place as nice as his room, and he knew he could get used to being a General officer.

  The Sergeant tossed Yurievich's suitcases on the bed and then said, “If you have need of me sir, I am in room 103 on the ground floor. In the closet of your bedroom, you will find a Brigadier General’s uniform and it is your size. Tomorrow a tailor will come and measure you, then make any adjustments needed for a proper fit. I have heard when you meet with the Generals tomorrow you will be promoted at that time.”

  “Very well, Sergeant. I will have no need for you today, because I intend to relax, drink a little and go to bed early. I need to quickly get used to the time change. You have a good day and relax, as well.”

  As soon as the Sergeant left, Yurievich laid on the king size mattress, never dreaming there was a bomb in his suitcase right beside him large enough to destroy a commercial airliner. He dozed off minutes later.

  He'd been asleep for less than three hours, but he got up, showered, shaved and then dressed in civilian clothes for a walk on the streets of Moscow. He carried his pistol in his jacket pocket and thought nothing of going out in the middle of the day to walk. He strolled and window shopped, knowing he could now afford anything he really wanted, but his needs were simple. He liked good food, strong drink and hot women.

  Suddenly from behind him there was an astronomical explosion that blew part of his hotel high into the air, and it was followed by a huge fireball. The top two floors were missing when the debris and smoke cleared the air, and the bottom floor was on fire. People were staggering out, with some of them leaking blood. One young man came out the door and his left arm was missing right at the elbow and blood spurted each time his heart beat. Ludomir ran to the injured and grabbed the boy with the spurting arm. Removing his belt, he quickly used it as a tourniquet to control the bleeding.

  “It is too tight!” the boy screamed.

  “It is supposed to be tight. Now leave the damned thing alone or you will bleed to death.”

  The wounded were getting outside and then collapsing on the lawn. Seeing two healthy civilian men watching, he ran to them and said, “Help the injured or get the hell out of here. We do not need an audience. Do you hear me!”

  “Yes, sir. Ivan, you take the left and I will go right.”

  Yurievich then move to a young woman in her late teens and she was bleeding to death internally, only she didn't know it. She had a sharpened piece of wood through her chest and the injury was right between her breasts.

  “You are going to be fine. There is an ambulance coming soon and they will take you to a doctor. Hang on now and do not go to sleep on me.” he said to her.

  “I . . . need . . . sleep.”

  “Stay awake! Do you hear me! Keep your eyes open!”

  “I will try, but my eyes are so tired.”

  An emergency medical technician in uniform ran to the General and asked, “Will she live, General?”

  With tears in his eyed, Ludomir met the technician’s eyes as he said in a tone just above a whisper, “No, she is de . . . dead. I told her to keep her eyes open, but she closed them!” Then in a broken voice he asked no one in particular, “Who would do this horrible thing?”

  He stood, seeing medics on the job now and even policemen were treating the less injured ones. Then he saw the stewardess. She was laying on her back in a large pink puddle that was growing larger because the fire hoses used by the firemen were leaking water. The water ran under her form and turned red where it pooled. Her eyes were open but they were no longer seeing. She had a long deep gash on her bloody neck and another on her head. She must have just died, because she was still bleeding. While he didn't really know her, she was just someone he'd met, they'd made plans to get together in the future. She'd been so alive and now she was dead. Her life was over, snuffed out by a Terrorist bomb.

  Chapter 17

  Private Toms was giving most of the injured morphine for their pain, and they still had hours of walking to do before they'd reach safety. By her guess, she had just enough medication to keep them in good shape if they reached the base within six hours.

  It was growing dark and they had stopped for a break and to care for the injured. One man, a Sergeant, had died, and John ordered his body be left behind. It almost caused a mutiny.

  A corporal said, “Colonel, you don't know how good a man Sergeant Thomas was. He was the best of the best, and he saved many lives over his years in the partisans. Can his unit carry his body back for a decent burial?”

  “How many are there of you now?” John asked.

  “Nine, we lost Patton but that's all. Please, Colonel. Not many men are respected like he was. We can carry him.”

  “Okay, but if you slow down the group the body goes to the side of the trail, fair enough?”

  Smiling big, the man said, “Yes, sir. Very fair in my eyes. Come on guys, put a man on each pole handle and we'll take Bill home with us.”

  A few short minutes later, the group along with Bill were moving toward their base. John dropped back and walked beside Joy for a while. She was awake and while they made every effort to be quiet, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

  “The medic said I'm fine, except for my headache, and that I may have to be on morphine for a day or two longer. Once back at the base, they can check me over with the medical equipment the Chinese doctors use. We've come a long way from killing Russians to get their food and gear. I can remember starving times and times of extreme cold. We're almost like a conventional army now, except we lack uniforms. I need to sleep some more, because I'm so tired.”

  A few moments later, Joy was in a deep sleep. John moved to Toms, his medic, and said, “How is Joy doing, Mariann, and give me the truth.”

  “She may have a fractured skull or a concussion. The bullet that hit her was moving fast and at just the right angle for the bullet to ricochet off her head, but the thing hit with a lot of force. I suspect a fractured skull and with that some brain injury or swelling at the least.”

  “I was just talking to her and she
seemed normal.”

  “Yep, and then again, she could die, and in just a wink of the eye. There are many things we don't know about a human brain. The odds are good they'll force her into a coma and then drill holes in her head if her brain is swelling. If any of this is done, it will mean weeks and maybe months to heal.”

  “The time it takes is not a problem, but I want her taken good care of. She's a damn fine leader and has contributed a great deal to the resistance.”

  “She'll be out of my hands by then but our doctors are good, real good, and the Chinese doctors are even better. I think it's only a matter of time before she's back to normal, if I can get her home safe and sound.”

  Suddenly the air was filled with whop-whop-whop and John yelled, “Chopper! Into the trees on the right, now!”

  Clumps of grass and dirt were thrown high into the air as a Gatling gun opened up on the group. John saw bullets strike people and tear them apart as they exited. Sergeant Prings took a round to his neck and his head flew off and landed near the trees.

  Once in the trees John said, “Scatter and make your way back to camp. They were looking for us.”

  “What about our wounded?” Msgt. Dias asked.

  “Take them if you can, if not shoot them.”

  “I will not shoot them, Colonel. That is not a lawful order.”

  “No, it's not lawful, Dias, but do you want them to suffer hours of terrible, painful interrogation? No matter how they respond, they'll just be shot in the end.”

  “He's making another run!” Someone yelled and when John looked up two missiles fired and they were coming right toward him. He fell to the ground and then heard two explosions, followed by screams.

  “Scatter! We don't want to be here if he calls a fast mover with napalm. Move, and that's an order! Make your way back home!” People scattered into the four winds. John noticed they left as couples mostly with a few groups of three.

  “What about Joy?” Master Sergeant Dias asked.