The Fall of America: Call Sign Copperhead (Book 6)

by W. R. Benton

  “I know you will drink it, but I must warn you, alcohol and painkillers can kill you.”

  Breaking the seal and taking a long pull, the Sergeant said, “Yes, ma'am, uh, you have warned me. Thank you for not being a prude, Lieutenant. I have found many junior medical officers to be a pain in the ass, but you are different. Please, when you get a chance, look in on my troops.”

  “I figure you have been in the Army longer than I have been alive. It is kind of hard to pull rank on a man that is old enough to be my father, has years of experience, and is so good looking.”

  Georgiy broke out laughing and asked, “Good looking? I think you have been in my drink before me. No, I am not handsome, not in the least. The only person in my life that ever called me handsome was my mother, and I think she was lying.”

  “I disagree.” Handing him a business card, she said, “Once you are out of here, give me a call one evening or visit my humble quarters. Just let me know beforehand, and I will try to get us a meal put together.”

  “I am a married man, Lieutenant.”

  “I am a married woman, Master Sergeant, and I am simply having you over for supper.” She gave him a wink.

  “I see, should I bring dessert?”

  “No, just show up, because you are dessert; now get some rest.” She broke into a big smile.

  Georgiy closed his eyes. The lieutenant was a very attractive blonde, short, maybe 1.524 meters tall and close to 49.89 kilograms. She had a nice bust, showed enough cleavage for a man to notice her firm breasts, narrow waist, and wide hips. She had a nice curve to her rear that the Master Sergeant found sensuous. It was her long hair, wrapped on the back of her head, that caught his attention. He loved women with long hair. He'd joked about being married, because his Olga had died almost ten years ago.

  She'd left the room, so he picked up her card and read, “Elena (Lena) Vadimovna, Junior Lieutenant, Russian Federation, Moscow.” A phone number was on the card, crossed out in black ink and a local Fort Leonard Wood four digit number written in.

  Seconds later, he fell asleep with the card in his hand.

  The Master Sergeant had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but he heard a voice say, “Wake up, Sergeant, we need to discuss your condition. I am your doctor.”

  Lifting his heavy eye lids, he glanced up and saw a middle-aged Major with a clipboard in his left hand. He sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned.

  “Sir, how did my troops do after I was shot?”

  “I have no idea, but the last two helicopters picking them up came under intense ground fire and were lost. We lost ten men in the two aircraft, not counting the crews. Both were taken down by SAM missiles. Of the wounded brought here, we have not lost a man or woman yet. So, out of the company you led, fifteen were killed and twenty injured. We also lost a dog handler and the dog. Most of the injured were treated and released to light duty. I believe there are four of you still in the hospital.”

  “When will I be released?”

  “That depends on your pain level, so I will speak with your nurse, uh, Lieutenant Vadimovna, and see how you have been doing. We can give you pills for the pain, but no drinking.”

  Laughing, the Sergeant said, “Why don’t you keep the pills, and let me drink?”

  The doctor laughed and said, “Just do not mix them or you may die. I will release you in two days if the Lieutenant agrees, and then place you on no duty status for seven days and then limited duty for a month.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Good, now get some sleep, and from what I heard at my Stand Up meeting with the Colonel, you are a big hero and you have a couple of medals coming. They discussed a promotion, but I think he will talk to you about that first. I think it would be a great loss of prestige to go from a Master Sergeant to a Lieutenant.”

  Georgiy laughed and said, “That is true sir, but the pay would be better.”

  “Sleep and I will talk with you later.”

  Closing his eyes, the Master Sergeant was asleep in no time.

  Three days later the Master Sergeant was standing at attention in front of a group of officers in a staff meeting. He had no idea what was going on, other than he'd been told to appear in his dress uniform. He was about half drunk, fighting the pain in his shoulder, and hoped he'd not pass out before this dog and pony show was over. Off and on, since his release from the hospital, he'd fought dizzy spells.

  Master Sergeant Romanovich yelled from the pit of his stomach, “Teeen-hooouuut!”

  Everyone in the room stood.

  The commander of Fort Leonard Wood, Colonel Elkin Yanovich, walked to the center of the room with three medals on a blue velvet pillow. He faced the audience and said, “I will now present the Medal of the Cross of St. George, first class, Medal of Suvorova, and the Medal 'For Courage' to Master Sergeant Georgiy. All three are awarded to you, Sergeant, for your bravery and courage. In addition, you are immediately promoted to the rank of Captain. Once your tour here is complete, you will be placed on show in the Fatherland and visit our people. To them and to us, your comrades, you are a true hero. Once I hang the medals on you, please wait as I and Colonel Leonidovich change your rank.”

  A brief citation was read and the medals were placed on the Master Sergeant's jacket. Then, a Captain read, “Effective immediately, Master Sergeant Ilik Georgiy is promoted to the rank of Captain, by order of General Yakovich, Marshal of the Army, Russian Federation.”

  Georgiy bent forward and the two Colonels changed his rank.

  “Due to the new Captain's injuries, his promotion party will take place one month from today. Captain, come by my office three days from now and we will discuss your new assignment. Let us have a hand for our newest officer, Captain Ilik Georgiy.”

  Captain Georgiy called Lieutenant Lena Vadimovna once back in his room and after he'd had a couple drinks for his pain. She said she'd be right over, so he removed his service coat. She didn't think he was up to walking to her place, not drinking like he was. The Captain had stopped at the commissary on the way back and picked up enough food for their supper. He'd also moved into his new quarters and it was very nice, compared to his enlisted prefab single room.

  His new quarters were painted American quarters and they were excellent. He lived on the second level of a three story building, and he had a kitchen and a private bathroom with shower. He'd placed what little he owned in the room, looked the place over and loved the stove and fridge. He also had a clock radio, television, and a number of lamps. It was as good or better than his apartment in Moscow.

  He moved to the stove and began to prepare a simple meal of roasted lamb meat on skewers. It was called Shashlyik by his people. This dish was a form of Russian shish kebab, with juicy chunks of lamb served with an unleavened bread, Russian pickles, and a spicy tomato sauce. It was a meal unto itself, was fast and easy, and most Russians loved to eat it as an evening meal. He put the meat in the oven under the broiler, and opened a top shelf bottle of vodka. He poured a drink and then placed the drink in the freezer of his fridge, one of the advantages of being an officer.

  Once the meal was done, he placed it in the oven to keep warm and took a quick shower. He liked the idea of not sharing his shower, and having one to himself was a great change. He could learn to love being an officer.

  Since they were not authorized to wear civilian clothes he owned none, but he wore a pair of his camouflage battle dress pants and an olive drab tee shirt. He wore only shower shoes on his feet. The room was clean and he'd found a broom, mop, and vacuum cleaner in the closets. He'd come a long way from a tent with a dirt floor. In some ways it overwhelmed him, because he was used to living a spartan life.

  There was a knock on his door.

  He walked to the door, opened it, and found Lena standing with a big smile on her face. She was looking beautiful with her camouflage battle dress pants and a black tee shirt. Her breasts stretched the tee to the point his eyes were drawn to them.

  “Hello,
Ilik.” she said in a shy voice.

  “Welcome to my quarters. Come on in, while I pour you a drink.”

  “Oh, this is nice. So, this is how they treat heroes.”

  He laughed loudly, handed her a vodka and said, “I am no hero. I was a Sergeant doing what I had been trained to do, take care of my men.”

  “That is not what I heard. I was told you refused medical treatment until all of your men were cared for first, and you continued to run the company even though you were seriously injured. From what little I know of you, it sounds like something you would do. You must have impressed Moscow because they promoted you, as well. To think, when you woke up today, I outranked you and by supper time, you outranked me.” She gave a light laugh.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Some, what is that delicious smell?”

  “Shashlyik, with lamb, and I have some wild rice too, if you want some. I also picked up the pickles, and a spicy tomato sauce to eat with it, because I love anything spicy. I eat a lot of rice, but you might not like it. I guess I should have asked.”

  “Come, lets sit on the sofa.” she said, and then laughed.

  “What is so funny?”

  “You have a television. I only have a radio.” she said as she sat.

  He turned it on and they found a documentary in Russian about Siberia, which she liked, so he sat next to her. The vodka bottle was on the coffee table, so if they wanted a drink, it was there. Both sipped their drinks slowly.

  Minutes later, he stood, removed the food from the oven and prepared both of them a plate. They made small talk and ate as they watched television. Soon, half empty plates were on the coffee table and Ilik had his arm over her shoulder.

  Finally, he asked, “Do you want to take a walk?”

  “Not really. I was joking when I said I was married.” she said.

  “I was too. My wife died years ago.”

  “I am sorry, but that happens.”

  Looking into her blue eyes he asked, “So what now?”

  She smiled and said, “I told you at the hospital you would be dessert, remember.”

  “I remember.”

  She stood, sat in his lap and said, “I am ready for dessert.”

  When he looked at her, she kissed him deeply, her tongue igniting the passion in both of them. She moaned loudly and then breaking the kiss, she pulled her tee shirt off. She was wearing no bra.

  It was two hours before dawn when the noise started. Lena and Ilik were both in his bed sleeping when the sirens on the base came on, and they were loud. He turned on the TV and there was a message that read, “Hospital has sustained a number of hits from missiles or rockets. Large number of casualties. All medical personnel are to report to their duty sections immediately. This is not an exercise. All medical personnel report immediately to your duty sections.”

  Explosions were heard around the base, and Ilik went to his closet, pulled out his Bison and made the weapon ready. He placed the weapon on his coffee table beside the bottle of vodka.

  “You stay here,” she said, “and be a good little boy. You are still on medical hold, so have a couple of drinks and return to bed. I will come by to check on you after work today. I will be fine.”

  “You be careful. Sometimes the resistance follows their initial attacks with ground troops. They know they cannot take the whole base, but they just want us to feel their might and know they can attack when and where they want.”

  Ten minutes later, over a cup of green tea, the new Captain was alone and then noticed on the television that the gulag was being attacked and it was about to fall. He shrugged his shoulders, took a sip of his drink, and then heard a huge explosion. He turned to the television to see what would be reported next. He worried about Lena.

  Five minutes later he read, “The base hospital has taken a direct hit and all personnel from the facility are being evacuated to the base gymnasium and local school buildings. All troops not assigned combat duties report to the hospital to assist in moving our injured. There are numerous dead and injured. I repeat, the base hospital has just taken a direct hit from a missile and has sustained great damage. There are unconfirmed reports of Chinese attack helicopters being part of this attack. It is suggested that all non-combat personnel seek cover immediately.”

  Georgiy wanted to help, but he wasn't assigned a new job yet and had no idea where to go. So, since he was still under a doctors care, he popped the vodka bottle open and took a long pull. Then he began to worry about Lena again, because she was assigned to the hospital. A fourth of a bottle later, the all clear sirens were heard and he dressed.

  He left his quarters and made his way to the hospital, which was in flames. Smoke, dense and black, rose to the sky. People, including rescue crews, were coming and going. A number of men saluted Georgiy, but he'd never been saluted as an officer before and had no idea who they were saluting. He made his way to the on-scene commander to learn what was going on with the hospital and hoping to learn something of Lena.

  “What do you need Captain?” the Lieutenant Colonel asked.

  “What caused all this damage, sir?”

  “Chinese attack helicopters, and we have photographs of them in flight. I have an unknown number of dead and injured.”

  “Were the injured taken to the base gymnasium, too?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He moved to the gymnasium and found the place a mad house with doctors yelling orders, nurses running to and fro as patients screamed and some cried in pain. One young soldier, missing three limbs, was calling for his momma and the Captain was sure he'd never see her again.

  “Captain Georgiy!” a female voice called out.

  “Lena, are you well?” he asked as he neared her.

  “I am fine. I have small cut on my chest, but I will let you doctor it up later. Right now, you need to leave. There is too much going on here for someone to stand by and watch. Besides, you are under a doctor’s care, so return to your quarters. I will come by later for a drink.”

  As he returned to his building he looked at the damage done around the base and knew it wasn't done by partisans alone. He had years of fighting the resistance and in too many countries, so he knew. This damage was done by aircraft, either helicopters or fixed wing. Complete buildings were blown apart or a huge number of structures were leveled for a whole block. No resistance in the world could do this.

  Once in his room, he poured a drink of green tea, sat on his sofa and turned the television on.

  “. . . gulag was breached and over 3,500 prisoners were released. Our heroic guards managed to kill almost a third of them before coming under attack by Chinese aircraft. The remaining prisoners escaped, so be on your guard today and tonight as you move around. Some of the escapees are considered very dangerous, so do not venture out alone. All escaped prisoners are to be shot on sight. Now, here is our weather for today and the remainder of the week.”

  “Shit, not good.” he said aloud, and he didn't mean the weather.

  Chapter 6

  “Sir, I have Headquarters on the line and they want to speak with you.” Parsons said as she neared me. I was sitting on a log, sharing my evening meal with Dolly. My dog was a valuable asset to the unit; she'd been made a Sergeant and was entitled to an MRE of her own. She'd already eaten her meal and was helping me with mine. I can tell you one thing about German Shepherds, they do love to eat.

  I took the handset from her and said, “Go, this is Copperhead One.” His call sign changed because he no longer had a base camp.

  “Do not attack your old base. Repeat, do not attack your base camp. Headquarters One,” who I knew was the General, “has a much higher priority target for you. Do you copy?”

  “I copy, but they have about four zero, uh, Poppa Oscar Whiskey.”

  “Uh, Copperhead, our friends will deal with your old base, copy?”

  “Uh, copy.” I said but wondered, What in the hell is going on? If the Chine
se deal with the base, they'll attack the place from the air and kill everything that moves, including the captives. I don't like this, not at all.

  “Copperhead One, return me to your radio operator. I have a mission for you that I will send in code. If you have any questions pertaining to your new mission, contact us after you read our message, but in code only. Copy?”

  “Copy.” I replied, and handed the handset to Parsons.

  Ten minutes later, Parsons neared and handed me a written decoded message.

  “Do not attack your home base, but relocate, and continue business as usual. You are needed for a much bigger mission now in the early planning stages. This mission is still classified and you have no need to know more at this time. The Chinese will attempt to rescue our POWs and will level your old base with air attacks.

  Signed, Major General Weaver, Commander, United States Partisans, Missouri.”

  “Well, damn me.” I said, and handed the message back to Parsons so she could burn it in a few minutes. What a mess. I thought the Chinese didn't want to put any boots on the ground here.

  Our attack on the Fort Leonard Wood gulags had gone much smoother than we'd expected. Our loss rate was just a little over ten percent and while high, it wasn't even close to the percentage I'd been willing to pay. I wanted the Russians to know they were not safe no matter where they were in my country. I wanted them to live in fear that we'd come for them.

  “Sergeant Parsons, check with the doctors and see how Top is doing. I've wondered about him since I sent him back for treatment.”

  “Will do, sir.” she said as she stood from her desk made of wooden ammo crates.

  She was filling in since Sergeant Warren was injured in the gulag attack. He'd taken a bullet fragment to his right arm and it would be weeks or maybe months before he'd be able to write again. Right now he was in a Chinese hospital dealing with a severe infection in the wound.

  Major Eller entered, gave me a smile and said, “We have the Russians pissed off, and I mean as mad as a hive of hornets in a tow sack being shaken.”