by W. R. Benton
“I would like that, my friend, but I can see something is bothering you and it is not me.”
“Vetrov has ordered around the clock ground and air searches for the partisans, and my future looks bleak to me. But, there is nothing I can do but follow orders and do as I am told. It would be a shame to get killed now, with me being at retirement age. Hell, like you, I would be retired right now, if they had not extended my service to come here.”
“I have known you for years and have never heard you speak as you are now. I think my injury may have changed your thinking. The Belonev I know is strong willed, determined, and a damned good soldier.” Durchenko opened the bottle and took a long pull of the clear drink. He then handed it to his friend.
“I can have only one, because it is now against the rules to drink while on duty.” He took a quick sip and returned the bottle.
“Just between you and I, things are not going well for the great Russian army. I think this invasion will turn into a real mess, like Afghanistan was for us years ago. It seems we never learn from our mistakes.”
“We are a hardheaded country and think strength is always the answer, no matter the question. Crippled as you are, you have no need to ever worry about military service again, my friend.”
Giving a loud sigh, Durchenko said, “I am not worried about me, but of my lads I leave behind. Most of these kids are just out of school and have no business in the army. The army is a hard business and you do well or die.”
“Your lads, as you called them, better learn the business fast or we will be sending home a bunch of metal boxes. I feel this war is about to turn mean.”
CHAPTER 15
John was at the spot where the dirt road intersects the paved road leading to town an hour before daylight. He'd brought Dolly with him, but no one else. He was squatted in some brush and she was leaning against him as he scratched her head. The weather had turned cold and he thought he'd seen a bit of snow as he walked earlier, but saw nothing now. It's just a couple of degrees above freezing, he thought. The sun will be up any minute now and that should raise the temperature.
Seeing movement in front of him, he clicked the safety off on his Bison. He watched as a man carrying an old 30.06 deer rifle neared. Dolly gave a low growl. Knowing the man was on edge, his senses keen, John said, “I'm a friend.”
The rifle moved toward the sound and John slowly stood, saying, “I'm John, and looking for a man named Jones.”
The gun barrel lowered and the man replied, “That's the boss. I'm Frank. So you're with Tom's bunch, are you? I was warned to watch for someone.”
“Yep, I am.”
First one, then two, and finally a whole group of men walked from the trees behind him. Seeing Jones, John said, “I see you're still alive and kicking.”
“Well, staying that way recently has been a real task. The Russians have patrols out at night and during the day now. Choppers are all over the place, regardless of the time.”
Shaking his head, John said, “Come over into the trees and let me tell you what I know is going on, and give you a dispatch pouch I took off a dead motorcycle rider. There are some interesting things in the pouch.”
Twenty minutes later, John was done speaking and Jones sat quietly. The orders in the pouch instructed all units to increase the frequency of their patrols, take captives and to fully interrogate those captured. It ended mass executions, but allowed immediate killing of those caught bearing arms. Tanks and other vehicles were to be placed at the intersections of remote roads and check points established. It also explained in detail how to establish a prisoner camp, when to feed and water prisoners, how much food and water each was to receive, and what to do with anything of value recovered from a prisoner. As far as John was concerned, the pouch held the whole Russian game plan for the near future.
John asked, “I wonder what Willy will say once he reads these Russian orders?”
“He'll be pissed and while we've already learned of the camps, the food they intend to give our people will starve most of them to death. I doubt the diet in these orders is even 800 to 900 calories, and a person needs more than that to stay alive.”
“So, what do we do?”
“Willy wanted confirmation of the camps starting before we do anything, but I know what he'll want now, or at least think I do. We need to hit and destroy these camps before they're fully manned and operational. Once they have lights, electric fences, machine-guns, guard towers, and are full of troops, we'd never overrun one without a serious loss of life. It'll be too late to do much then.”
“We can harass the workers with sniper fire, at least until Willy decides what kind of action we need to take.”
“Do it, and if I get word one way or the other about an attack, I'll send a runner to you. Out of all our cells, I've only located about a fourth of them. Oh, before I forget, Davie, bring me your spare toy.”
Davie walked to the men, squatted and opened his pack. He then removed an ugly looking gun of some sort that had an oversized revolving cylinder. Seeing the confusion in John's eyes, he grinned and said, “This is a RG-6 and it shoots six 40mm grenades. It's semi-automatic and able to launch two grenades a second, or something like that. Ugly, it surely is, but I've not used one yet to see how deadly it is. I was to leave it with your group earlier, but to be honest, I wanted the extra protection as we traveled toward Vicksburg. Now that we're heading home, I want you to have it.”
“Do you have any grenades for it?”
“More than just a few, but our supply is limited. Once you use what I give you, you'll be on your own for ammo after that, so use it sparingly.” He then pulled a vest out that had many pockets, and each held a grenade.
Calling another man forward, Davie took a crate from the man and handed it to John. “This box isn't full; only a little more than half of the grenades remain. I've kept the rest for us. These are the first RG-6's I've seen, but I suspect the way things are heating up, the ammo will soon become common.”
Jones looked at his watch, stood, and then said, “We need to be moving. So, it's time to put your sniper to work and I want to wish you good luck.”
“I suspect with our sniper and this RG-6, we'll keep them busy at Edwards.” John extended his hand and shook with Jones.
Once back with his group, a meeting was held and John explained what was to happen. Kate smiled and said, “Give me a few shots and I'll have my new sniper rifle, with night vision scope ready to use.”
“Try to shoot an officer, if you see one, and only wound him.”
She gave a deadly smile and replied, “I know how the game is played.”
John handed the RG-6 to Tom and said, “Since you carried an M-79 before, this will be a step up for you. As far as I'm concerned, a 'blooper' is a 'blooper', but figure you'll enjoy using it. I have a vest and a few more rounds in the crate I packed in earlier.”
Tom grinned like a kid in a candy store with a pocket full of money.
John and the rest waited in the darkness, behind a hill, as Margie and Tom checked the prison camp to see if workers were still on the job. It would do little good to kill a few men, unless they created a great deal of confusion in the process. Joshua, much better than an average shot, was using Kate's old 30.06 and once she started the show, he was to join in, but be selective in his targets. The first priority was to kill or injure officers, then sergeants, or workers that looked to have specialized skills. Finally, worker bees would be taken out.
It was snowing hard and the temperature was well below freezing. Tom had argued to wait for better weather, but John knew any dedicated commander, especially one with headquarters on his ass, would have his troops out working, no matter the weather conditions. Besides, the weather conditions in Russia were harsher than this, so it should be just another workday for the troops.
Tom and Margie returned a few minutes after midnight and grinned. “Got a shitload of 'em working tonight. The place is well lit up too, just as clear as daylight.” Mar
gie said.
“Joshua, you and Kate move to positions you think will give you the best shots. Tom, did you see any tanks or other armor, in or out of the wire?”
“Nothing that I saw and I looked for it, too. I did see their fuel dump and hopefully I'll take it out in a few minutes.”
“Keep in mind, with Kate using her suppressor, they may not know what is going on at first. All they'll see is men dropping. With that said, if you get a good shot into a group, Joshua, after Kate opens the dance, take it.”
“I'll take out the fuel and ammo dumps.” Tom said with a big lopsided grin.
“Now, let's move people, and get to your positions. Remember, no shooting until Kate drops a man, so keep your eyes on the compound.”
Ten minutes later, as John watched the compound an officer fell to the dirt, unmoving. A man moved to his side and then suddenly fell over the first man. Confusion resulted and men began to run in all directions. Joshua fired and a man fell, and then Tom fired and a huge explosion filled the cold air and flames rolled into the sky. A machine-gun opened fire, from the back of a truck, but the gunner soon fell over and John suspected one of his snipers had taken him out.
He heard a bloop and then a massive explosion sounded and flames burst to the sky. The ground shook as the ammunition went up, but John knew Tom had been lucky, because the ammo wasn't all stored in one spot. It was likely his round struck an open door to a storage building or an ammo truck parked near the dump. Three more explosions rocked the ground, one after another, and John was confused. Surely the Russians had ammo bunkers for explosive storage.
Tom, seeing the trucks by the ammo bunkers, fired, hitting one, but had no way of knowing the other three vehicles carried ammunition and explosives, too. The night sky was suddenly daylight, as the trucks exploded. Seeing a large electric fence around a group, he sent a 40 mm grenade into the wire, blowing a huge hole. He then blew the wire wide open in two other locations. Civilians screamed as they ran out of the prison compound, but many were killed or wounded in the process, because the Russians were firing at anything that moved.
Colonel Vetrov ran to the camp, wearing no shirt and began to shout orders. Officers and enlisted men scattered to do as he commanded. He held a pistol in his left hand and when Sergeant Belonev arrived, he said, “Take a company of men and search the area around this place. Use night vision goggles and bring me the heads of those responsible for this!”
“Yes, sir.” Belonev replied and then thought, Stand out there like a fool in the light, because if you stand there too long, we will get a new commander.
From on a hill, well over two hundred yards away, Kate brought the cross-hairs up on Vetrov's chest, took a deep breath, and as she released it, she gently squeezed the trigger. The sound of her shot was low, more like a thump than the sharp crack of a rifle shot. Moving the scope back to her target, she saw he was down. Another man ran for Vetrov, so her rifle coughed once more and the man fell screaming to the ground. Through the scope, she saw the top of his head was missing.
Belonev ducked behind some sandbags the second the first shot struck Vetrov, and watched as a private he didn't know ran toward the colonel. The runner collapsed with most of his head, from the ears up, missing. “Sniper!” The Master Sergeant yelled.
Two others attempting to get at the Colonel were down, and then the Sergeant realized the sniper was playing an old game. Down an important person and then shoot everyone who tries to save him, only to kill your first victim eventually. “I think I know where that shot came from,” he said, and running to a machine-gun, he pushed the dead gunner out of his way and sent a short stream of bullets toward the spot. He fired five more times, before he was knocked to the side and realized he'd been shot. His face was in the grass and he smiled as he looked at the snow covering most of the ground around him. Then his world turned gray before he entered complete darkness.
Glancing at his watch, John saw it was time to withdraw, so he pulled a whistle from his neck to his lips and blew three long blasts. The others would either hear the whistle blasts or realize no one else was firing and leave. He heard the low thump of the RG-6 and when he glanced toward the base, something exploded, sending more fire into the sky, and most likely killing more Russians.
John left the area and once away from the light of the base, started a slow trot that would allow him to cover some distance. The winds were high now, with the cold cutting through his coat and chilling him. Snow was falling harder, and he knew they had to return to the cellar before the snows stopped or even a child would be able to follow them.
Seeing a shape nearing, John yelled, “Civil!”
“War!” The voice replied with the proper countersign.
“Is that you, Tom?”
“Yep, with the rest right behind me. I'm on point. Let's move straight to the cellar or we'll not be able to return until this snow melts.”
“Any wounded?”
“No, no wounded but we had one fatality, Kate. I'll explain more at the cellar.”
The distance to the cellar was short, but with the gear they were packing, all were tired when the remains of the old house were seen. They slowed to a walk and then stopped at the edge of the trees. “Joshua, I want you and Sandra to check the cellar out. If it's clear, we'll do the house next, so move.”
Once at the cellar, Joshua entered with Sandra riding his ass, but they came back out in just a minute or so. They then ran to the house and entered. Minutes passed, with John growing apprehensive, and then both exited to wave all clear.
“Everyone but a guard, Margie, will go into the cellar. Margie, I'll send a replacement out for you in a couple of hours. Stay in the trees where you can see the cellar clearly.” John said.
After all were seated in the cellar, John asked, “Okay, what happened to Kate, Tom?”
“First, I am sure she was killed, because her body was torn apart by a machine-gun, large caliber, and I checked her closely. The rifle was ruined, but I did manage to grab the night scope and her gear.”
“I saw the machine-gun and fired a few rounds toward the man. I'm sure I didn't kill him, but did take the man out. Joshua, did you see the gun?”
“Uh-huh, and I hit him, too, but not sure how much damage I did. I saw him fall and he was unmoving when I left. I was aiming for the center of his chest, so he might be dead.”
“What in the hell did you hit with that grenade launcher on your last shot?”
Tom laughed and said, “Hell, I don't have any idea. I fired at a truck and something inside went up.”
“Okay, I want all of us to eat a little something and then get some rest.” John said, and then moved to Sandra's side where he asked, “You okay?”
“I'm fine. I'm not sure what Tom hit tonight, but he blew half the damned base up from what I could see. I know at least three men burned to death because I saw them burning as they ran from the flames.”
“The Russians will turn mean, shortly.”
“Gas?”
“Not sure what they'll do, but poison gas is certainly a possibility.”
“I'm tired of fighting. I want to go home, cuddle up in front of a good movie, and sip some wine with you.”
“Well, baby, that won't happen anytime soon. We don't have a home, there are no televisions that work, and no wine.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“Hold me tonight as we sleep; I need to feel you near me.”
John put his arm around her and pulled her close. In just a few minutes, both were asleep.
“John, wake up.” He heard his name called. Opening his eyes, he saw Tom squatted beside him. Looking at Sandra, he saw she was still sleeping, so he lowered her head to the blanket as he asked, “Trouble?”
“I don't think so, but we have a visitor.”
“Visitor?”
“Let's go outside so we can talk. I don't want to wake these folks. I have to warn you, it's colder than a witches left ankle out there right now. I'd guess the temperature is
close to zero, or below.”
Donning a jacket, John walked out and asked, “Now, what's this about a visitor?”
“She's in the trees with Margie. She was given a coat, so she's okay.”
“She?”
“A woman named Sally, and she claims she had a food booth in Edwards, which Margie verified and knows the woman. According to her, she was a prisoner at the camp we hit tonight.”
John saw the snow was still falling and nearly an inch was on the ground. He thought for a moment and then said, “Go and tell Margie to bring her to the cellar and you take the next shift. It's too damned cold to talk to her out here. If anyone followed her, you've the best eyes to spot them.”
“Not a problem, so go back inside the cellar. Hell, ain't no reason for all of us to be cold.”
John had just removed his jacket when Margie entered with a woman. The woman looked scared, and she kept glancing around the cellar. She's had it pretty rough and recently too, John thought.
“So, how many others escaped tonight?” John asked.
“All of us made a run for safety, but a lot were killed by the Russians. I'd guess maybe twenty-five out of two hundred made it out. Once out, we scattered in all directions.”
“How'd you find us?”
“I saw a man with a gun move past me and I tried to follow him. Finally, remembering this place, I figured y'all were heading here. At times, in the low light, I'd see a footprint, but it wasn't often because the snow is covering them.”
“How'd ya know of this place?”
“I used to know a black man by the first name of Joshua who lived here off and on. This farm was once very successful, but most left it alone, since black folks owned it. Joshua and I went to school together. Then, after the fall, I lost touch with everyone.”
“Well,” John said with a slight smile, “Joshua lives here again. He's one of us and we're a resistance group.”
“Lawdy, that's good news. After the way the Russians treated us, I have a lot of revenge on my mind right now. Can I join you?”
