The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2)

by W. R. Benton

  “What was that, Sergeant?” Aptekar asked.

  “I asked if you are keeping your eyes on the rider in front of us.”

  “Oh, I am, and you can believe me, too.” He wanted to say more, but couldn't, not with the officers in the backseat.

  “Sergeant?” Colonel Vetrov asked.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Would you enjoy a drink?”

  He must be getting drunk, because when sober he'd never ask an enlisted man to drink with him, he thought and then said, “Just one, sir, because of my duties.” I can hardly turn down an offered drink by my commander.

  A few minutes later, Vetrov's hand appeared over the seat, with a tall glass. Belonev noticed the glass was almost full and had very little ice.

  Taking the glass, the Master Sergeant said, “Thank you, sir.”

  When the two officers went back to talking, the Sergeant took a big gulp of his drink, mainly to settle his nerves, and then placed the drink between his thighs. He then placed NVG's over his head and began to scan the countryside. He saw little, except a doe deer and her yearling standing beside the roadway eating the lush green grasses.

  There suddenly came a bright flash of lightning, followed by a sharp crack of thunder. The Master Sergeant, took another long gulp of his vodka and continued watching the sides of the road through the greenish tint of the goggles. A gentle rain began to fall, and picking up the radio, Belonev said, “Reduce speed by 15 kilometers an hour.”

  Both motorcycles immediately reduced speed.

  Wanting to get rid of the glass between his thighs, Belonev downed the rest of his drink and placed the empty glass on the floor. The whack-whack of the wiper blades running almost put the senior NCO to sleep, but just the thought of an ambush quickly filled his body with adrenaline. Come on, hit us if you are going to do the job, because I would rather get it over with, he thought as he watched the cyclist in front of him.

  The motorcyclist in front, Private Babanin, was a young man of eighteen on his first military assignment. He'd become engaged right out of secondary school, but really didn't want to marry, so he'd joined the army. He knew eventually he'd have to serve anyway, so he'd decided it was a good way to avoid marriage and to get his military service behind him. He'd played his girlfriend for a fool, using her to satisfy his sexual urges, and then deserted her. He'd told her the army had contacted him demanding he appear for active duty right away and he had to serve. He chuckled as he remembered the hot night they had shared just before he left for service.

  He was enjoying the ride, even if the rain did sting his face as it struck, and his speed was low, 64.4 kilometers an hour. He'd hoped the pace would be much higher, because he had a deep love for speed. He was wearing NVG's to see the sides of the roadway clearer, and his headlight was almost blacked out with wide tape, which allowed a flat narrow beam to hit the road surface. But with the goggles on, he could usually see the road clearly beyond the reach of his light. Tonight, the clouds covered most of the moonlight and at times his vision with the high tech gear was limited at best. The goggles, from what little he knew, absorbed light from all natural sources, and somehow used it to present a clear view in the darkness. His mind was that of a farm boy, which was all he'd ever been until a year ago.

  Private Babanin never saw the thin wire stretched across the highway, which cut his head from his body as quickly as a razor sharp sword. His mind, still working for a few seconds, was confused as his head rolled on the pavement and for about twenty feet the motorcycle continued on a straight path. It then fell to it's side, throwing sparks in the air, even from the wet surface of the road. His now lifeless body rolled from the bike and finally came to a stop in a muddy ditch, where it quivered and jerked violently for a few seconds and then was still.

  Belonev saw the bike go down and screamed, “Go, go, go!”

  An explosion. from a GM-94 grenade on the highway in front of Aptekar, causing him to swerve violently to avoid the blast and he over-corrected, placing the vehicle in a skid on the wet surface. He pushed down on the brakes hard, but they continued to slide toward a ditch on the side of the road. The car hit the ditch straight on, the front wheels in the trench, and the ass of the vehicle high in the air.

  Small arms fire was heard, a few bullets striking the car, as Belonev picked up the radio and said, “I need helicopters on the highway now! We are under attack about half way to Jackson.”

  “Understand you are under attack about half way to Jackson on the east bound lane.”

  “Correct, and it is a large force.”

  “Choppers on the way!”

  “Tell them to hurry, or they will only find Russian bodies when they get here.” Belonev replied, and then stuck the radio in his pocket.

  A bullet struck the car and gave a loud zing as it ricocheted off into space. Aptekar opened his door, stood, and a bullet from Esom's sniper rifle struck his head, spraying the inside of the car with blood, bone, and chunks of brain. His lifeless body fell into the ditch, with his shattered head near the front tire.

  “Sniper on the drivers side! Exit the car on my side, now!” Belonev yelled to be heard over the gunfire. As the three were leaving the car, the last motorcycle pulled up and the driver was dismounting when he was struck by a hail of bullets. His body danced wildly as the hot lead struck him and he gave a loud scream. He fell to the wet pavement and his screams died with him.

  Vetrov was scared as he moved over the wet concrete with Galkin behind him, but had the presence of mind to pick up the dead motorcyclist's Bison and ammo as he crawled past the bloody body. Major Galkin pulled the dead man's pistol and two grenades and then rolled into the wet ditch. Belonev pulled the dead man in front of them, so his body offered some cover, but knew it would not stop a bullet.

  “When will the helicopters be here?” Vetrov asked.

  “Sir, they are coming as fast as they can, but it will take some time.” The Master Sergeant replied, and then spotted a target in the brush of the median. He fired a short burst and saw his target fall unnaturally to the ground.

  “If they flank us, we are dead.” Major Galkin said.

  “Sir, you watch our left and Colonel, I would suggest you watch our right side. I will try to keep the front clear, but there must be a hundred guns out there. When either of you get a chance, glance behind us, because we have four areas to cover and there are just three of us.”

  A bullet struck the ground behind them and all three ducked as it struck.

  “I can see nothing in the darkness.” Galkin complained.

  “Let me get the cyclist's NVG's, perhaps they still work.” The Master Sergeant crawled to the dead man's head, removed the goggles and then jerked his hand back quickly when two bullets struck the body. “Try these, Major.” He handed the bloody goggles to the officer.

  I have movement on my side, but I cannot see anything.” Vetrov said, his voice quivering in fear.

  Belonev glanced in the direction and said, “They come.” He pulled a grenade, removed the tape holding the spoon, and pulled the pin.

  His grenade landed in the middle of the group and while the explosion was loud, the screams following were louder. Belonev quickly stood, squeezed a short burst toward the figures on the ground and then dropped back to the ditch.

  From the median, a machine-gun opened up, stitching the dirt in front of the ditch as the gunner walked the bullets to the shallow trench. The Major screamed, fell to the water and began to jerk. The Master Sergeant, who was in the middle, grabbed the man and pulled him erect. From his NVG's he saw where a bullet had burned the Majors left arm slightly.

  “Sir, your wound is tenuous and if you want to still be alive when the helicopters arrive, use your weapon. Both of you, be sure of a target before you fire. We need to conserve our ammunition or we will be dead before the aircraft get here.”

  “Contact the helicopters now, Sergeant, and find out where in the hell they are.” Vetrov ordered as he fired off toward the left side.
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  The GM-94 in the hands of Tom fired once again and the car burst into flames.

  “Get down, now!” Belonev screamed and then ducked low in the ditch.

  “Where are the aircraft!” The Colonel yelled to no one in particular, but the Master Sergeant picked up the radio and asked, “Calling any aircraft.”

  “Go, I'm one of three helicopters near the ambush site.” The pilot could hear guns firing over the radio and assumed it was the Colonel calling.

  “What type of helicopters are responding and how soon until you arrive my area?”

  “I am one of two Black Sharks, Kamov Ka-50's, and I have a Ka-60 along to pick up the survivors. We should be at the ambush site in about three minutes, sir.”

  “This is Master Sergeant Belonev, sir, send the two faster aircraft ahead now, because we're taking heavy fire.” He knew the Black Sharks were almost a 100 KPH faster than the Ka-60.

  “Understand, Sergeant, and will do. Where are you located and where is the fire coming from?”

  After giving the pilot their location, as well as the location of unfriendly fire, the gas tank in the car suddenly exploded, throwing flames high into the air and all three men ducked low in the ditch.

  “What was that? Are you still there?” The radio came alive.

  “The staff car just blew, hurry! The Americans are advancing on our position.”

  The burning car lighted the area as bright as day, and the partisans heard a whistle and all moved forward. Belonev raised his head slightly and said, “Keep low and fire. The helicopters will be here in a minute or two!” Tracers of green and red were seen crisscrossing in the air overhead.

  Vetrov raised his Bison in his hand and squeezed off a long spurt without even looking over the edge of the ditch for a target. The Major raised his head slightly, fired three rounds, and then was knocked back to the ground behind him. Two more bullets struck him at the same time, one in the chest, the other low and in his stomach. He fell to the bottom of the water-filled ditch and screamed.

  Belonev suddenly yelled, “Behind us!”

  Again, Vetrov raised his weapon and squeezed off a burst. Out of the blue, his Bison flew through the air away from him, and he pulled a bloody hand down screaming. Glancing at his commander, the Master Sergeant saw three or four fingers missing on the hand.

  “Sir, you must pull your pistol with your left hand and help me, or we will be dead in a minute or two.”

  The radio relayed one short sentence, “We have a target rich environment all around you, so lower your heads.”

  The area around the two live men became alive with 30 mm cannon fire and horrific screams were heard over the sounds of a helicopter firing. Belonev raised his head to help direct the aircraft and saw bodies flying apart as the cannon struck home. Dust filled the air as he picked up the radio and said, “Clear the median, almost center on us, and do it now.”

  “On the way.”

  The second helicopter released two missiles, which struck the target dead on, and huge explosions were heard. Belonev scanned the area around him and spotted no movement at all. Maybe the Americans have withdrawn? The Sergeant thought.

  The cannons in a chopper coughed once more and anything in the median was instantly turned into hamburger meat. No screams were heard, but the attack had been fast and furious, so it was unlikely any victims realized they were in danger, until hit.

  “Down the road from us, perhaps a hundred meters, is a sniper; take him out now.”

  “Will do.”

  Missiles were fired and the detonations lighted the area well. It was then the light rain turned hard. His NVG's were useless now, so Belonev removed them and seeing the darkness surrounding him, he shuddered in fear. The only light came from the still burning staff car, but it was almost out.

  “You will have to inform me of where to place any strikes now, because my on-board thermal gear does not work well in this rain.” The pilot said over the radio.

  Vetrov snatched the radio from Belonev's hand and asked, “How far out is the rescue helicopter?”

  “Less than two minutes. Leave the bodies, but the two of you need to be prepared to run to the helicopter when it lands on the highway. We will be making passes to the sides of you as the rescue aircraft lands.”

  “When do we move?”

  “When I tell you, and then move to the open door on the side of the aircraft. Watch for the gunner, because he may have to fire to cover your approach. Do not rush forward until I give the word, understand?”

  “We will wait for your word.”

  A bullet struck the dead man in front of them, so both Russians knew the Americans were waiting.

  “Sir, get lower in the ditch. We don't want to get struck now, not when rescue is on the way.”

  One helicopter made a dive toward the ground, which the two men in the ditch, as well as the Americans could hear. Cannon fire was heard, but the Americans realized the aircraft had no specific target in mind, because it fired between their position and the Russians. Then it dawned on Willy, The aircraft was firing to keep any approaches cleared of partisans.

  John, nearest to the highway, saw the inbound rescue aircraft and pulled the LAW from his pack. He carried two, but suspected one would work just fine. He doubted he'd be able to hit one of the faster Black Sharks, so he held his fire and waited for the rescue aircraft to touch down. He extended the tube and waited.

  “We are landing straight in front of the burning car, so wait until we order you to move. All communications will be with us from this point forward.” The rescue aircraft suddenly said on the radio Vetrov held.

  The second Black Shark went into a dive. Belonev watched in fascination as it never pulled up and struck the ground going full speed. The resulting explosion and blast made the rescue chopper wobble violently as the pilot fought the stick to maintain control. The two Russians on the ground were surprised to see the aircraft was only about fifty feet in the air. The area behind the two survivors was as bright as day, and then came the secondary explosions from the crashed Black Shark. With each explosion there came a bright flash of light and then a loud boom.

  When the skids touched the highway, the radio blared, “Now, move!”

  Colonel Vetrov tossed his weapon, along with the radio, aside and made a mad dash for the aircraft. Master Sergeant Belonev ran toward the aircraft as well, but was in much better shape than the Colonel. He was about to enter the aircraft when Vetrov grabbed him from behind and spun him around, causing him to fall to the ground. The Colonel then screamed as bullets struck the helicopter, “Go, go, go!”

  Master Sergeant Belonev, seeing the aircraft raising cursed, “That damned coward. He only cares about his own ass.” The aircraft was ten feet in the air now and Belonev waved frantically at the gunner.

  “Gunner to pilot, we still have a man on the ground.”

  “Black Shark, I'm taking heavy fire from the median.” The pilot said, and then ignoring the gunner, continued his upward path.

  Belonev, seeing the Black Shark lining up for an attack, realized the Americans could see it as well, so he jumped to his feet and made a mad dash for the ditch, jumped it and moved into the woods to the north. He was surprised he'd not been struck, but understood the enemy was likely moving away from the attack coming by moving at right angles. Their self preservation had saved his life.

  Cursing the Colonel, and all officers in general, he moved away from the ambush site as slowly and quietly as he could. He gave thanks to God, for the heavy rain, which masked the noise of his movements. He decided once back at the base, he'd file formal charges against Colonel Vetrov and knew the gunner had seen him clearly, because they'd gazed into each others eyes for a few seconds.

  Only first, I have to live long enough to return, he thought.

  CHAPTER 26

  John kneeled, lined up the sights on the LAW and then squeezed the rubber-covered trigger. He watched, intrigued, as the aircraft was struck right behind the pilots door. Wit
h the explosion, a man fell free of the chopper to land on the pavement, his body smacking as it struck hard. The pilots door and a body fell a split-second later, landing near the burning staff car. The aircraft began to rotate 360 degrees as someone, most likely the man in the right seat, fought a losing battle for control.

  The other Black Shark, on an approach for the median, began to spit 23mm bullets at trees and grass between the two highways. People screamed and John was knocked to his ass when something struck him on the side of the head. Sandra screamed and ran for him. The aircraft flew over the median and then banked sharply to repeat his run.

  The rescue chopper suddenly dropped like a rock and fell into the trees just north of the highway, where it burst into an immense fireball. Huge flames rolled inside of each other as they moved for the sky. Come dawn, all that would remain would be the tail and the badly burned remains of the co-pilot and two gunners.

  Seeing the rescue bird crash and burn, the last Black Shark aborted his approach and turned for home. The rain was coming down in buckets now as Willy stood from the grasses nearest the road and yelled, “Make sure the dead Russians stay that way! Then, collect our wounded and let's get out of here.”

  He walked to the dead man who'd fallen from the aircraft, turned on his flashlight and grinned when he saw it was a full Colonel. The large three stars on the yellow board, with the two red stripes, confirmed his rank. Vetrov's head was severely injured on impact with the concrete, but Willy pushed the man's mouth open with his right boot and then leaning forward, placed an ace of spades in the dead man's mouth. May you rot in hell, you murdering sonofabitch, he thought.

  Esom appeared from the darkness and said, “One man escaped north, moving toward the base. It was raining so hard, even using the night vision sight I couldn't get a clear shot. He was a Master Sergeant.”

  “Small change for what we were after, so let him go. His getting away may just spread the fear of us a bit, which can only help.”

  Tom neared and said, “We have over twenty dead and about a bakers dozen injured, including John, who took a rock to the side of his head. Sandra thinks a round knocked the rock in the air, striking him.”