by W. R. Benton
They'd no sooner left than the explosives went up and the resulting fireball was grand. It twisted and rolled as it moved for the sky. A few secondary explosions were heard before John said to Carrier, “Let's move, and we'll head in the opposite direction of camp. We'll move southeast for 12 hours and then loop around and return to camp. Keep in mind, any Russian helicopters we see are probably using IR, so keep your poncho handy. By covering our bodies with a poncho, we won't show on their infrared radar screen. Now that only works for five minutes or less, but keep it in mind.”
“I've done it before, but it's hard to lose them once they pick you up on the screen.”
“Move out at a jog, and do it now.” They both began a slow jog they could keep up all day, but both knew that they could trip a booby-trap at any time. However, their survival right now meant distance from the power plant.
An hour later, John heard the loud whop-whop-whop of a helicopter and said, “Get your poncho ready, because they're looking for us.”
When John saw movement against the sky, he said, “Cover, now!”
Both crawled under their ponchos.
The chopper hovered over their location for a couple of minutes and then moved on. For over an hour they stayed in the spot circling, suspecting or knowing the two men were there. Every few minutes John and Carrier would be forced to remove the poncho and have it ready if the chopper neared again. If they kept the poncho on too long, heat would be clearly seen on the infrared screen as the poncho leaked the heat from the ends and sides.
“They're moving away from us.” Carrier said as the chopper moved to the left about a quarter of a mile.
“Move out at a jog and move due south.”
It was just before sunrise when Carrier stopped and whispered, “Do you smell wood smoke?”
John sniffed the air and said, “Yes, move toward it and we'll see who it might be.”
A few minutes later, both men watched as a tanker crew broke camp and began loading their gear on a big Russian T-90S battle tank. While the tank required a crew of three, there were at least a dozen soldiers with the crew, so John suspected they were the tanks night time security.
I'd love to take this baby out, but I'm not foolish enough to attack a tank and about fifteen men with just the two of us, John thought as he nudged Carrier to move again. They slowly went around the Russians and once past them, they began to run again.
About an hour later, John was on point when they entered a grove of oak and hickory trees. John suddenly tripped on something, fell and then saw movement overhead in his peripheral vision. During his fall he lost his cowboy hat. He looked up to see a tree branch with a row of sharpened stakes on the limb, and his cowboy hat was stuck through the crown by a sharpened stake. He realized he'd tripped and saved his life because the limb had been pulled back, and by tripping on the thin fishing line, he'd tripped the trap. He was lucky he fell below the limb.
He reached up and removed his cowboy hat, cursing at the new hole in his Stetson.
“Damn, John, are you okay? When I saw that limb swing out, I knew for sure you were a dead man. I think we need to slow down now, we're miles from the power plant.” Carrier said.
Giving a dry chuckle, which he did out of nervousness, John said, “I agree. Slow it down some and I want you to take the point, until my heartbeat gets back to normal.”
“I'll do that. Now, let's move.”
The rest of the day was uneventful, but they did run into more traps, which they marked and went well around. It was near dark when John asked, “Do you smell that?”
“What do you smell? I don't smell anything at all.”
A voice, followed by laughter was heard, but the man was too far away to make the words out. Moving forward, the two men squatted in the brush and watched nine partisans making camp. John was about to call out to them when the man on the left began speaking in Russian. Two other men quickly spoke and the man shut up instantly. One man, obviously the leader said in English, “You will only speak English and you will speak no more Russian until we return to the base, understand, Private Lukovich?”
“I understand, Major. I forgot to speak English, sir.”
“Pay more attention, and now move out a bit and place our mines for the night.”
John pulled his knife and moved to where he'd meet Private Lukovich. The Russian had two mines that looked like copies of the American Claymore mines and he was unraveling the cord to the detonators as he moved. Since he was placing mines, he was not watching around him, but concentrating on doing his job properly. John moved behind the man, grabbed him and pulled him close, as he stuck him near his kidneys with his big 14 inch Damascus steel hunting knife. He knew with each plunge of the blade he was slicing the man's kidney to pieces. He had his hand over the Russian's mouth, but when he bit his fingers, John let go.
The Russian screamed loudly.
The men and women in camp went to ground, just as Carrier tossed a grenade among them. Everyone was so shocked by the scream they failed to noticed the grenade.
The explosion was loud in the early evening air and screams were heard immediately. Raising up, Carrier fired his Bison on automatic as he sprayed the camp with lead. John then tossed a second grenade and it exploded, bringing more screams. Then he joined Carrier in shooting the camp to hell and back. When he stopping shooting, the evening was suddenly eerily quiet.
“Colonel, want me to move forward and check them? I'll use caution and if one twitches, I'll shoot 'em again.”
“I can do that, I'm closer, but keep me covered.” John moved slowly toward the Russian camp. He held his Bison at the ready, only he soon learned the Russians were all dead. He called Carrier into the camp.
“We didn't need these fools out in the bush causing problems for the partisans. I wonder how many other English speaking units are out here?”
John looked at the man the Private had called sir, and he had taken a grenade fragment in the face, which ripped about half his skull off the back of his head as it exited. His blue eyes were open, but they were unseeing. The woman beside him had taken a bullet to the chest and another low and in the gut. She'd bled out quickly. He was used to seeing dead, and the sight didn't bother him in the least.
“One is too many. I have no idea, but I see a radio over there, so let me see if I can reach Headquarters with the thing. I should be able to reach them, since this unit was masquerading as partisans. Surely they have the radio frequencies we use.”
“Hell, I don't know, but check the radio out.”
John moved to the radio and said, “Copperhead, Copperhead, this is Cobra Two. Do you read me, Copperhead?”
“Uh, go, Two.”
“My group has broken down into small units to return to our base. Two of us just killed ten Russians, but they were masquerading as an American Partisan unit. I heard them speaking perfect English.”
“Uh, understand they were spies then. If we send a chopper, can you see the bodies are loaded and then return with them?”
Looking at Carrier, John said, “They want the bodies at Headquarters and they offer to give us a free ride home. Do we take it?”
“Hell yes, I'm tired of walking.”
John almost broke out laughing, but said, “Roger that, we'll have the bodies in a field near here, and have the bird contact me when they are five minutes out, over.”
“Copy and I'll pass that on to the aircraft commander. Copperhead, over and out.”
“Understand, Copperhead. Cobra Two, over and out.”
He placed the handset on the radio and said, “We need to stack all the Russian bodies in the field to our left. They are sending us a taxi for the trip back to base. I imagine they'll be sending a Chinese pilot and let's hope this one can speak English.”
Thirty minutes later the radio came alive, “Cobra Two, this is Ranch One, over.”
John was wearing the radio because while moving the bodies he didn't want to miss any contact.
He pulled
the handset and replied, “Ranch One, Cobra Two, how can I help you?”
“Do you have the bodies ready for pick up?”
“Roger that, and we're ready to leave as well. So far we have a green LZ.”
“Copy and understand your LZ is cold, over.”
“Affirmative, Ranch One.”
“Pop smoke, I have you visual.” Ranch One said, and then John could hear the whop-whop-whop of a number of helicopters. Scanning the skies, he spotted two rescue aircraft and two Black Hawk attack helicopters. The attack helicopters suddenly moved lower and then went wider in a circle.
John popped a smoke grenade and then said, “I have bright orange smoke. Do you see my smoke, Ranch One?”
“Copy, Cobra, but I have blue smoke to your west.”
“That is not me, repeat, that is not me. I am orange smoke, over.”
“Ranch One to Eagle One, hit the blue smoke, over.”
The chopper soon lined up, and as he approached the blue smoke, his Gatling guns were heard to fire and to John they always sounded like a big zipper being pulled down. Just before he pulled up, the Black Hawked fired two missiles into the trees.
Minutes later the rescue chopper landed in the field and the Russian bodies were quickly loaded. The aircraft took off and Ranch Two landed to load the two partisans. Both climbed into the cabin and quickly buckled in the seat-belts. It was then ground fire was heard striking the bird.
“Eagle One, Ranch Two, and I'm taking fire from my right side and from the trees.”
“Copy, Ranch Two, and I'm rolling in hot now.”
As the rescue crew and passengers watched, the Black Hawks struck the woods hard with missiles and Gatling guns. The ground fire quickly stopped.
“Thank you, Eagle, I can breath better now. Over.”
“No problem Two and we're to escort you home. Over.”
“Well now, that's nice to know, over and out.”
The trip back to the base was uneventful, but the cool air in the cargo hold, where the passengers were seated, was enjoyed by all. Less than 30 minutes later the pilot said, “We've been cleared for a straight in approach and landing, so we'll have no wait. I expect to be on the ground in less than five minutes. Crew, prepare for landing.”
John saw them fly over the base fence and then he could see the runway under them. Minutes later they slowly lowered, he felt them land and taxi. He then heard the difference in pitch when the engines were shut down. When the crew started unbuckling seat-belts so did John and Carrier.
“Sir, there will be a car and driver to pick you up in a couple of minutes. You're to be taken to the Base and Wing Commander, so you can give a detailed report of the spies you killed.” the aircraft Commander said as he stepped from his seat and moved to the cargo area.
“Thank you, Captain.” John said and then stepped from the chopper. He was glad to be safely home again.
Seeing a staff car approaching, John said, “Leroy, our ride is here. The commanders want to talk to us.”
“So I heard. I'm glad we got a ride and didn't have to walk home this time. I need a shower, some good food, and a shot or two of good whiskey. I'm beat.”
“Me too.”
They walked to the car and the bored looking Airman asked, “Are you two a Private and a Colonel? I'm to pick up two men, but they didn't give me any names, sirs.”
“Yep, it's us you want.” John said.
“Please get in then, sir, they're in a hurry to see both of you. All I heard was something about spies. Are you two spies?”
“No, son, we're not. We're just two airborne infantrymen going to speak with our commanders. When Colonels want to see you, well, you go see them, right?”
“Yes, of course, sir.”
“So take us there, then.” Carrier said, tired of the young man's talking.
Ten minutes later they pulled up to the headquarters building and the Airman asked, “Do you two know where the conference room is?”
“I know,” John said, “but Carrier has never been to the room. Not many Privates go to conference rooms.”
Carrier chuckled and said, “Let's get this over, sir, I'm tired.”
John said, “Hell, I'm 20 years older than you and you don't think I'm tired?”
They entered the building, were passed by security and then moved down the hall to the conference room. John told a pretty Lieutenant that they were there and the Commanders wanted to speak with them. She left and soon returned with two Full Colonels following her.
They all shook hands and then entered the room.
“I am Colonel Richard Dye, Wing Commander, and that man is Colonel Joe Morris, Base Commander. We had the two of you brought here because we understand you were the two who killed the Russians dressed as Americans. I was also informed you two heard them speaking Russian and English. Is all of this true?”
“Yes, sir. English was spoken and Russian too. We heard a Russian officer chew out a Private for speaking Russian and then he told him to only speak English. Colonel, they spoke without accents, and sounded like they were from the mid-west.”
“Not good. Tell us the complete story and start before you hit the power plant, and tell us about that too.”
When John finished, he said, “That's it, sirs. We climbed on the chopper and here we are.”
Colonel Dye said, “We are running their prints and DNA through the Chinese computers. They have software that will track most of these men down, I think. We should know something by morning. They ran the man identified as the officer and discovered he was a Senior Lieutenant in Spetsnaz. One other man has been identified as an airborne Master Sergeant. Other information about both will soon be sent to us. Because of the importance of your power plant missions, which have had a lot of impact on the Russians, and the ten bodies brought in, we feel the two of you should be given a medal.”
“So, as of this date, both of you are entitled to wear the Silver Star and, John, I know this is your fifth oak leaf cluster, but it will look good beside your Medal of Honor.” Colonel Morris said.
John just nodded, but he didn't care about medals and such things. He didn't even care about being a Colonel, except it allowed him power to usually plan his own attacks and to help his troops get the supplies, food, and weapons they needed.
“We thank you for the medals, and I feel we were just doing our jobs. We wanted the Russian squad dead, because they might have caused countless deaths among the partisans. We both felt, but never spoke of it, we also needed to report it. How many other partisan units in the field are not really made up of Americans?”
“All they would have to do is kill an American team of partisans, take their gear and equipment, then listen to the radio. Most Radio operators write their call sign with grease pencil on the radio itself. They sometimes used 15 different names in a month. There is no way they can remember the names, so they write them down.”
“So, by killing an American unit, they can become that unit if their English is good enough. I can't speak for all Partisans, but the English we heard in our group was better than most Americans, which could mean serious trouble within the organization, sir.”
“Then we start calling teams in and check them against the fingerprints we have on file. Years ago a man named Captain Willy Williams, a prior Green Beret, started fingerprinting our troops. We now have the prints of every member of the resistance. When the units come in, we check their prints in the computer and verify they are who they claim to be. Those caught lying will be hanged or shot.”
John said, “I knew Williams personally. He was my commander when I joined the resistance. He was one hell of a fine man, and intelligent, too.”
“Well, then you are aware we fingerprint everyone.”
“John,” Colonel Dye added, “I also have the extreme pleasure of telling you that you have been chosen for the rank of General officer, effective the first day of next month. Due to your new rank, you will no longer go out into the field with your troops and wi
ll be responsible for all partisans in Missouri, Arkansas, and Oklahoma. That means, sir, in ten days your active combat days are over. Congratulations, John, it's well deserved, and keep in mind when they pin the Medal of Honor on you, it comes with an automatic promotion in grade. So, within six months of the war ending, you will be a Major or Lieutenant General.” Both Dye and Morris stood at rigid attention as Dye grinned.
“What if I turn it down?”
“Are you crazy? John, they want your expertise in the bush to help plan workable attacks on our enemies and when the war ends, that doesn't mean the fighting is over. It just means we won't fight Russians. There are many different political groups in this country that want the power of running this nation, and some are dangerous for our people. We do not want socialists or communists to get in power or this country will fall again before it ever gets close to healing.”
“That is something I've not thought about at all. I figured when the Russians left, we’d hold elections and Democrat or Republican would take office.”
“It would be nice if that happened, but it won't. We figure two years or more of civil unrest and maybe even a civil war. Everyone wants the power. Even the Conservative, Bo Turner, is running for the power he'll have. However, his first task, or so he claims, is to apply the Constitution to our nation once more and to live by it. He wants a small Federal government and larger state governments. He has plenty of good ideas, but if he doesn't get into office, his ideas will become useless.”
“Someone must bring this nation back together and keep us that way. Turner might be the man, I really don't know.” John knew little of politics now.
“Oh, one other thing for both of you,” Colonel Dye said, “and this is important; avoid our water. Don't drink it or even shower in or it will kill you as dead as hell. The Russians managed to slip the poison botulinum into our water system. Botulinum is one of the worlds top five poisons and it killed 63 of our people and made 175 sick. Some just washed their hands or took a shower using our water. Avoid it, and we have community showers at the Gym, and most places have portable showers outside the various organizations. Drink nothing but bottled water and you'll find fifty pint bottles in each of your rooms.”
