The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2)

by W. R. Benton

  “Well, if you dislike violence, then stay the hell out of Jackson, because all the Russians do there is round folks up and shoot the shit out of them. They've executed over two hundred people there this month alone.”

  “I only want to find my brother. I pray he still lives, but it's not likely.”

  “Well, if your jewelry runs out and you grow hungry, come see me. I can always use another wife and I'll feed you well, but only white meat.” Fred said and then laughed.

  “Oh, and how many wives do you have now?”

  “Three, but none are as fine or young as you are. Each Friday we get a bottle of rotgut and have a party.”

  I'd starve to death, lard-ass, before I'd go to bed with you, Margie thought, but smiled and said, “Why thank you, Fred. I'll keep you in mind if things turn much rougher. At times, I could use a real man in my life, but now I must move on. I still have hopes of finding my family, only I can't go much further alone without help.”

  Fred reached down, picked up two pig ears and handing them to her he said, “Take these so you know I mean what I offer you. I'll treat you well, young lady, and enjoy doing the job. It'd be a crime to let a pretty young thing like you go hungry.”

  Margie smiled, winked and then said, “A man who can provide food for a woman is a special man these days in my eyes. Besides, I think I could learn to like an older man like you, since you're more experienced with life. I like the thought of a man who takes good care of his women, too. Now, that was the last of my jewelry, so don't be surprised if I return in a few days and take you up on your offer. Are you serious or just joking with me?” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip in a seductive manner and gave him her most teasing look. She saw him quiver.

  Fred blinked his eyes rapidly a few times, gave a loud gulp, and then said, “Hell, for you, I'd throw them other women out of the house and feed you red meat.”

  Knowing some men fantasied about having more than one woman at the same time, she said just above a whisper, “Let them stay. I think we could have a special party with a man like you.”

  It was then Dolly gave a low growl, and when Margie glanced around, she saw two Russian soldiers nearing. She lowered her head and quickly said, “I must continue on my journey, but I'll remember your invitation.”

  “You, woman, stop!” A Russian called out in thickly accented English.

  Glancing over here shoulder, she saw them looking at her. She turned and asked, “Yes?”

  “Your bag has hole. Meat will fall out,” the man on the left said. Their rifles were still over their shoulders on slings.

  Margie removed the meat and placed it in the bag with the produce. She'd just turned to walk away when the same solder asked, “Have you husband?”

  “No.”

  “Come with us. We take care of you.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Pankov was standing tall when Vetrov presented him with his medal for his participation in the killing of the forty Americans. The citation had spoken of the great risk taken to gather the intelligence and how he'd gone into the field to gather even more. It read well, but the Lieutenant Colonel wasn't surprised by the words, because he'd written them himself. Standing beside him was Major Yevseyev, who'd just been promoted to major, completely bypassing the rank of captain. The quick award of both the medal and promotion, showed how desperate Vetrov was for positive news to report to Moscow.

  Vetrov saluted Major Yevseyev and said, “I want both of you to stay long enough to have a drink or two in celebration of your achievements. It is not often I have the privilege of awarding medals and promotions these days.”

  “Yes, sir.” Both men replied.

  “Please be seated with the other members of my staff. Sergeant, bring us four bottles of vodka and glasses.”

  Gunfire was heard just outside the window and it was loud. Pankov looked at his commander and then the Colonel said, “More executions this morning. They must learn I am a man of my word. I will keep killing ten of them until all resistance is crushed.”

  “How many this time, sir?” Pankov asked. You are a fool, but I have had this thought before.

  “Fifty-one just died. We had a supply depot at another base broken into two nights ago and lost a large quantity of rations and gas masks.”

  “Did they get the filters, too?”

  “Of course they did. They knew what they were looking for and somehow knew where it was stored, too. I suspected they had men or women on the inside passing them information, so I had all our American civilians from the base killed. We only lost a single man, the guard, but traitors I will not tolerate at all.”

  “True, they must be squashed.” Pankov agreed.

  The sergeant arrived, handed out the glasses and placed four quarts of vodka on the table. He then walked to the rear of the room, where he stood at parade rest, in case he was needed again.

  Pankov was happy with his new medal and to be out of the field again. He took a long chug of his vodka, enjoying the way it burned a path to his belly, and grinned. Life was good back at the main base and he appreciated the comforts.

  Vetrov took a sip of his drink and said, “Pankov, I have word from Moscow your promotion is now assured, with the killing of the forty Americans, effective immediately, once the listing is released next week. I have been told you have been placed at the very top of those being promoted.” He extended his hand and as they shook, he added, “But, as a colonel, we cannot have you working in intelligence any longer.”

  Now I will finally be given a real command, Pankov thought.

  “We currently have two openings that require a man with your new rank.” The commander took a long drink, gave a light cough, and then continued, “We have need of a tank commander and an anti-terrorism commander. I suggested to Moscow the anti-terrorism position, but they are allowing you to make the choice.”

  Tanks are damned death traps, and burning to death as steel melts around me is not a good way to go. But, first I must have some answers. Pankov asked, “I have not heard of any anti-terrorism group.”

  Vetrov laughed and said, “We do not have one, but Moscow considers the acts by the partisans to be acts of terror. You will have free reign over the people and decide what to do to reduce the damage done by their attacks. I must tell you, if you do a good job, a promotion to general is very likely. However, on the other side of the coin, screw it up, and they will have you murdered, I think. They seem to think you are just the man to do this job.”

  I could do a better job than you, for sure. Pankov said, “Of the two positions, due to my background and experience, I think I am better qualified to do the anti-terrorism job. I know little of tanks, except they're hot and stuffy in the summertime.”

  “Great, then it is okay if I pass your name on to Moscow?”

  “Sure, but where will I work and have an office?”

  Grinning, the Commander said, “Why at any small base you want to work out of, because your position will be in the field. They want you actively involved in preventing terrorism and you cannot do that from a staff position. I expect your replacements name on my desk within the hour. Gentlemen, if you wish, you can stay and enjoy the drink, however, I have work to do. Please remain seated as I leave the room.”

  As Vetrov left the room with a big smile on his face, Pankov was seething. That sonofabitch set me up, knowing I would take the job before he even offered it. He wants me in the field and out of his way, damn him. I will show him, I will take the position and work out of the quietest base we have, Edwards. Nothing has happened there since we arrived. I will stop the resistance, only he may not care for the way I do the job.

  “Sir, are you okay?” A major said from beside him. Pankov didn't know the man, except he was Abdulov's replacement.

  “Why,” Pankov replied, “I am fine. Just a bit overwhelmed to be awarded a medal and a promotion on the same day.”

  “War makes or breaks a man, and I'm happy for you. I think many men who are captains today, will
soon be generals.”

  “Oh, why is that?”

  “We all know many are in command due to their connections with Moscow. If they do not do their jobs well, some will be retired, some shot, some will go to prison camps, and others will simply disappear. I see a great future waiting for some of us.”

  Edwards wasn't much from the air and even less once on the ground. Pankov immediately called for a staff meeting and set his ground rules in concrete. “I will have no drunks on duty; if you want to drink, do it on your off time. The enlisted are not to have hard drink, only beer, and the only exception is Master Sergeants. I will tolerate no sleeping on duty either, so get the word out. Any questions?”

  There were none.

  “Also, I want to establish a registration and identification system for all Americans, and my executive officer has data we have stolen from the Americans. This data lists everyone in this country who has owned a gun or had a drivers license. Anyone we stop, you can check to see if they once owned a gun, but keep in mind about 90 percent of all homes were gun owners. If they once owned a gun it does not make them a criminal, but they may be, so use caution. If they cannot explain where the gun is now, put them in a prison camp.”

  “Sir, we have no prison camps.”

  Pankov smiled and said, “We soon will have, and the first one will be here. I want at least twenty in this state alone.”

  “How can we feed them?”

  “I did not mention food, did I? How, or if, they eat is not my concern.”

  “Surely you will feed and clothe the prisoners, sir.”

  “Do I look like the Red Cross? Now, see to your men, I have things to do.”

  After the staff meeting broke up and everyone went their way, Pankov walked from the building and made his way around the small camp, looking things over. The men looked to be in good shape, physically, but lazy and not well disciplined, in the Colonel's eyes. The defenses were poor and he suspected the camp wasn't surrounded by mines, and just by looking, he wanted more wire strung along the perimeter for protection. Obviously, stuck out in the woods away from the Russian brass, the base had grown complacent and shoddy, which was always the way of troops away from commanders.

  I suspect, once the prison camps start to fill, the resistance will grow, as people join the fight to avoid camps. As the groups grow and become larger, they will be harder to hide and easier to find, maybe. There is always a chance they will split into small cells to resist us. Mass killings are not good, as they simply make desperate men more determined to win, but the camps may work. I will have to feed them, only not much, say 900 calories a day per prisoner. The lack of food has broken many men and women, Pankov thought as he walked around the camp.

  “Colonel!” A voice called.

  “Here!”

  A major walked to Pankov, saluted and said, “Sir, I'm Major Bebchuk, civil engineer, and I am to build your prison camps. Colonel Vetrov told me I am assigned to you until further notice.”

  “I want you to spend today finding a good spot for the camp. Later, during construction, if you need laborers, simply make a sweep through the town and gather up men or women. I want this first camp up in a week, can that be done?”

  “Yes, sir, but all of the buildings cannot be completed within that schedule. I can get wire up, towers in place, and a few structures completed.”

  “Will it be able to accept prisoners?”

  “Oh, yes, sir, but they will have to sleep on the ground, until we can get barracks made for them.”

  “Good; so start immediately and keep me informed of any problems; and I want a daily update during our staff meetings.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, can the outer wire be charged with electrical current?”

  “You mean an electric fence? Sure, I can do that, sir.”

  “See that it's done. Dismissed, major.”

  As the major saluted and then walked away, Pankov thought, Things are looking up, already. If the camp is completed in a week, I can start adding prisoners very soon. If we start by collecting women and families of those known to be involved with the resistance, shoot a few of them that have family members as leaders, then their motivation to fight may decline. But, all executions must serve a purpose and not be mass killings like Vetrov has done recently. The resistance must understand why people are being killed, or it serves no purpose.

  Master Sergeant Belonev exited the helicopter bent over at the waist and with ten new men he made his way to a briefing. From his years of military service, he knew he was about to be informed of the nature of his sudden reassignment. His bags were heavy, and he grunted as he moved into a room and placed his gear against the far wall. He then took a seat near the front of the room. He was no longer able to hear as well as he once did and as the senior NCO, he figured something would be said to him or he'd have to answer questions. He was still tired, but mostly from the drunk he'd gone on after surviving his last trip into the bush. The colonel had given him three days of rest and he'd spent it with a vodka bottle in his hand.

  Lieutenant Colonel Pankov entered the room with a couple of junior officers and the men came to attention. “Be seated, please.” The colonel said.

  After the men were seated, Pankov asked, “Which of you is Belonev?” He scanned the room, expecting the Master Sergeant to be at the rear.

  He was surprised when the Sergeant stood almost at his feet and said, “I'm Belonev, sir.”

  “Men,” Pankov said, “look at this man and remember his face. When he speaks, he speaks for me, and it is as if I have given you the order. You may be seated, Master Sergeant Belonev. Now, many, if not all of you, may be wondering why you are here in this small place. We are about to open a prison here for those who resist our right to American soil. You men, as well as some others, will be guards. Now, before you think of what a great deal you have just landed, let me make myself clear to all of you; your jobs will be tough and I expect all orders to be carried out without question. If a prisoner escapes on your shift, I will be hard on those found responsible or lacking in the performance of their duties. Each of you is a soldier and I expect all of you to act like one at all times. Beer will be available for all men, when off duty, but hard drink is reserved for Senior NCO's and officers. If you report to duty drunk or with a hangover, I might have you shot. Many of you will leave here with a promotion, as well as a medal, if you do what is expected of you. Now, Lieutenant Glukhov, the executive officer for our civil engineers will cover a few things. Lieutenant.” Pankov sat in an overstuffed leather chair.

  A short portly officer stood and said, “First, your barracks have not been completed, due to our efforts to complete the prison camp first. So, you will be living in small tents for a couple of weeks. Additionally, you will be pulling guard on the construction site, night and day, starting today. More guards are due in today and tomorrow, but until then do the best you can. I would suggest five men on duty today and five tonight. Once more men are available, your Master Sergeant will make a duty roster. Sir, that is all I have for right now.”

  Pankov stood and said, “The town is currently off limits to all of you and will remain that way until we do our first security sweep of the place. Master Sergeant Durchenko, please stand. Sergeant Belonev, Master Sergeant Durchenko will take you on a tour of the base as soon as I conclude my briefing. He will show you the messing facility for enlisted men, location of our supply section and much more. If you have any questions, he is the man for you to see. However, if you have any problems and need my help, my door is open to you. Any questions?”

  Belonev shook his head and replied, “No, sir.”

  As Pankov moved toward the door, Durchenko called the room to attention.

  Once the colonel was gone, Durchenko walked to Master Sergeant Belonev and asked, “How are you, Dmitry?”

  “I am well, Alexei, and you?” Belonev extended his right hand.

  “Well, but I thought you would be retired by now.” Durchenko said a
s they shook.

  “I was told my retirement was on hold until I completed this assignment. I had less than ten months remaining. The damned involuntary extension ruined all my family plans and Alena is still mad about it.”

  Shaking his head, Durchenko replied, “They did the same to me. I am pissed and had just six months left to serve. Come, let me show you around as we talk of old times.”

  “We can do this, but what can you tell me about this town?”

  “Not much to say. It's a small quiet place, where we trade for gold or other things at booths they have in a small market. Some of the gold is of excellent quality, but nothing happens around here. I am not sure how much of a change the prison camp will cause, but usually folks move away from prisons, because they fear them.”

  Belonev pulled out a cigarette, offered one to his friend and then said, “Hell, prisons are depressing and no one wants to end up in one. I do not blame people for moving away.” He lighted his smoke, and then his friends, with a lighter he'd carried for over twenty-five years.

  “We will visit the town later. Off to the right is the supply building, to the left is headquarters, and over beside supply is the mail-room. There are no enlisted entertainment facilities and each man will be issued a ration card for alcohol and tobacco. You and I are authorized ten quarts of hard liquor, while the lower enlisted can have two cases of beer, per month. Most of the hard drink is vodka, but there are cases of bourbon, if you like the taste.”

  “Where did the bourbon come from?”

  “I heard, but don't really know, that some of the American distilleries were raided and the drink removed. I can see us doing that, but I do not like the taste much and neither do most of the officers. A quart of it counts as half a ration, so if you can develop a taste for the nasty stuff, you will do well.”

  “It may be my lucky day, because I love it. I have only had it a couple of times in my life, but I found it smoother than vodka and with a slightly better taste.”