by W. R. Benton
Neither spoke, but I could clearly read the doubt in their eyes. No, it wasn't doubt we'd be successful, but doubt if we were doing the proper thing. It is a real mind opening experience when you realize you have the power to kill hundreds of thousands of people instantly, and then cause the death of many more over the years from exposure to radiation. I couldn't guess when this area would be safe for people again, but I have a mission to complete and I'd do my best.
The night passed slowly, but a couple of hours before dawn while Alford was on guard, he woke me and we listened to a gun battle going on not too far away. I'd guess it was close to the Pearl High School, and that worried me. Leaving those two with the suitcase, I donned my NVGs and moved overland toward the school.
The way was rough, with tangled vines, thick trees, and fallen logs, and I saw more than one poisonous snake slither away as I moved forward. They were Copperhead snakes, and I avoided them when possible. The last thing I needed was a snakebite. I then heard two loud explosions, followed by screams. The small arms fire continued, but just as I reached the end of the trees and could see the clear grasses around the school, the fighting stopped.
I spotted a group of cannibals and they were leading 3 men to their fire, which was south of the school. Staying in the trees, I moved with them. Then, near a fire, I saw a mixture of men, women and children, jumping up and down over the capture of the men. When they led the prisoners near the fire, I spotted Tom Black and two Russians dressed as partisans. I knew they were Russians because they were yelling in Russian. Tom said not a word that I could hear. I suspected he'd been captured by the Russians, and they were taking him to a gulag.
I watched as the bodies of six or seven others were brought into camp; all were quartered, and then a human thigh was placed on a spit over the fire to roast. Most of them returned to their robes and blankets as the meat cooked. I saw the cooking was done by an old woman that must have been seventy years old or more.
Then I saw the bodies of cannibals who must have died in the firefight brought into camp and added to the other bodies. I always wondered if they ate their own dead, and now I had the answer.
I knew I had to rescue Tom, but I'd not help the Russians. Some would call me cold for this, but it was their invasion of my country that turned those folks into cannibals, so let them feed them.
It was still dark, so I moved to the rear of the shelter the three men were in. I used my skinning knife to slice it down the back. It was then a cannibal warrior approached in the dark. I was fairly sure he didn't see me, so I waited, knife in hand. Just as he started to move away from me, I jumped him, with my left arm tightly around his throat. I suspected he was a guard, and sooner or later he'd find Tom gone or see the cut material. My long 9 inch blade slid into his back like butter, three times, and each time I yanked the knife from side-to-side, hard. He jerked and danced in my arms, so I reached up and cut his throat. I held him securely as blood, emitting a strong copper smell, spurted from his neck injury. Minutes later he was still. I felt no pulse, so I dropped him to the dirt.
The three prisoners were tied and gagged. I cut the bonds on Tom and then helped him from the shelter. We then melted into the predawn grayness.
Back with the others, the rain started again and I looked up and around, not wanting another lightning strike if avoidable. I saw no trees very much higher than the others. While I'd been gone, they'd used ponchos to make a simple lean-to shelter against the rain. We moved under the shelter and I asked Tom, “What happened, and how'd you end up with the Russians?”
“When I didn't hear from you after a couple of days, I assumed you'd been killed.”
“How's that possible? The last I knew, you were missing in action.”
“I was captured within an hour of separating from Top and the rest. At that time, I was with a group of Russians disguised as partisans. I could hear the radio and what was being said, and not once did I hear you or your people mentioned. Then two days ago, I was with them when they were attacked by a Chinese helicopter. I waited until the aircraft left, used the radio to contact Base and got the code. I was looking for you to get the key when I was taken prisoner again.”
“You're a very lucky man,” Alford said, “because in about a week you'd have been on the supper menu.”
Tom blinked rapidly a few times and said, “Then, well, you saw who killed the Russians and took me prisoner, cannibals. You have no idea just how scared I was.”
“I've never been their guest,” I said, “but you're not the first person I've saved from them, and probably this same group.”
I wonder if the school building is not being used.” I said aloud.
“Just before they ambushed us, I saw the building and there were no lights on inside, but I'm sure no Russian troops are close to these animals.” Tom said, and then slowly shook his head.
“We have a choice, but not much of one. We can use almost all our munitions to clear the area of cannibals, or we can try to sneak around them tonight and get into the school. I think we'd better save what munitions we have for the return trip. Any suggestions or ideas?”
“Sneak around them. They'll be so busy feasting on the bodies, they'll not see us.” Alford said.
“I'm inclined to kill them,” Tom said, “But the nuke will do that, and wipe out the whole group.”
I looked at Carol and she said, “Sneak around them, if possible. I can think of nothing more sickening or frightening than being a prisoner of cannibals. That is one group of people that needs killing.”
I gave a dry laugh and nodded.
“What now?” Tom asked.
“Well, here,” I said and handed him a Russian pistol with four magazines. “Alford, you need to hand him a grenade and you do the same, Carol. I have an extra knife I'll give him, because he left those animals out the back door, with no weapons.”
“Hell,” Alford said, “just to get away is a good enough deal in my eyes.”
“Oh, yes; just the thought of those nasty people touching me makes me shiver.” Carol said.
“Did they smell?” Alford asked, curious now.
“They had a sour smell, like unwashed bodies, and the camp smelled too.”
“The camp,” I said, “smelled like burnt pork.”
“Gag me; horrible.” Carol said, and then gave a visible shudder.
“Quiet, we have no idea who may be near,” I said and then whispered, “Eat or sleep.”
Top had moved almost a fourth of the way back to base, when he had a sudden feeling that things were not going well for Quarterback. The retired E-9 knew the commanding General of all the partisan troops in Mississippi, because they'd served together in the middle-east. Top had been an E-6 then, and the General was a senior Captain at the time. The officer had gone on to retire from the army as a Full Bull, 0-6. He contacted him by radio during their noon rest and food break.
“Base, this is Top Cat.”
“Go, Top Cat.” came a quick response.
“I need to speak with Base Actual.”
“Uh, give me five.”
“Copy, it's my dime.” Top joked, but suspected the attempt at humor wasn't understood or appreciated.
Three or four minutes later a voice said, “Top Cat, this is Base Actual.”
“Sir, I have reason to believe Quarterback is in trouble. I'm concerned about Tom Black, and suspect his knowledge may compromise our mission. I cannot prove anything, but I suspect Black is a two-timer, sir.”
Silence.
“Actual, this is Top Cat, did you copy, over?”
“Uh, copy, Top, but wait one.”
“Will do.” Top looked at his troops and shook his head. Covering the mic, he said, “It's just like using a phone in the old days, everyone puts me on hold.”
Three minutes later, “Top Cat, Actual.”
“Go Actual.”
“Top, right after your team moved out for your current mission, we began fingerprinting all of our partisan troops. This was done
to improve our security by being able to confirm people found on their own, as well as identification of bodies found, and finally, to provide a list of who actually served with the partisans during this war. We feel each man and woman should be listed.”
“Uh, copy Actual, but how is that related to my mission, over?”
“Our fingerprints for the dead that were taken in the field, where Tom Black was at, tells me the real Black is tango uniform, repeat, Black is tango uniform. His current position is a Sierra Poppa Yankee, and needs to be terminated.”
So Black, as I know him, is a spy; interesting, because his command of the English language is better than mine, Top thought, but replied, “Sir, no can do without transportation closer to the game. Even without mines or ambushes, we could never run there in time to help.”
“Copy and understand. Look for fried rice in approximately two hours.”
Fried rice? Has the old man lost his damned mind? Top thought. He then said, “Say again, Actual.”
“You're to have fried rice, and it will be delivered by bsyrwar ap55lso asv nwoNNos asaf OPEPPlllee. That is in code, my friend. Once decoded, if you have questions, contact me and only me. Over.”
“Copy Actual, and thank you for the rice.”
He heard the General give a light chuckle just before he said, “Base Actual, out.”
Brewer looked dumbfounded but he opened his code book and started decoding the message.
Thompson asked “What was all the phonetic stuff? I got lost.”
“The General said, Tom Black, the real Black is tango uniform, or teats up —dead. His current position is a Sierra Poppa Yankee, or in simpler words, a SPY, and needs to be terminated, killed with extreme prejudice.”
“They must have compared fingerprints of all the dead men and Black's body was there, but torn to pieces.” James said.
Top replied, “I have no idea if the real Tom Black was killed earlier, blown to bits, or is still wandering around in the woods lost. All we can bet on is the current Tom Black is not the real one. This one is to die.”
“I've decoded the message but it's as bad as before I decoded it.” Brewer looked totally confused.
“Well, read the damned thing to me.” Top said.
“You will be picked up by a Communist Chinese helicopter and moved to within one mile of the football field. Your chopper will have others along to provide security and complete your team. Your new call sign is Dog 17.”
“That's it? Now, where in the hell did the old man get a Chinese helicopter?”
Grinning, Lea said, “Prolly from the Chinese.” She then smiled.
“There has been some communications on the radio of Chinese airstrikes and such, but I never expected a ride from them. I think this stresses just how important this mission is.”
“But why are the Chinese involved?” Lea asked.
“The Russians and Chinese have a love-hate relationship, and with more hate than love. I suspect they just want to see the Great Russian Bear lose this war. I do see a problem if we have to speak to a Chinese chopper crew.”
“Not me,” Lea said, “because I speak fluent Chinese. Give me a number two and number five.” she then laughed.
“I'm glad everyone thinks this is funny, because here in a bit, we'll be going for a ride with those people. Lets get to a clearing and prepare for the chopper.”
Chapter 20
Thinking as hard as he might, Sokoloff could think of no way to save his two Russian mates currently held by the cannibals. It was likely if he failed his mission, they'd never feel the detonation of the bomb anyway. If he was successful, it was still unlikely he could rescue them alone. But the man-eaters had plenty of human flesh, so if he could prevent the bomb from exploding, he might be able to somehow send Russian troops to rescue the men before the animals ran out of meat. He was sure they would eat the fresh meat first and save the live men for later.
They'd moved deeper in the woods and it was mid-afternoon when I got a radio call from the General. Most of it was in code, which I handed to Carol to decode, and I had Tom watching the road.
“Your other man,” the General said, “is a Benedict Arnold. Keep your six clear and after reading the message, contact me if you have questions.”
“Copy, and Quarterback out.”
Five minutes later, after Carol decoded the message, I knew as much as Top did and all about Tom Black, too. I wasn't overly shocked to learn he was a spy, but in some ways I had to respect his skills and dedication to his service. The General had stated very clearly in the message I was to kill this Tom Black, so kill him I would do. Top was not to meet me for another two to three hours and I was to wait for him before I moved.
I glanced at Carol, kissed her on the tip of her nose and said, “We can eat or sleep, because we have a few hours.”
Kissing me back, but deeply, she broke the kiss and said, “I think we have another choice too, if you're interested.”
The road on both sides of the highway had dirt and rocks thrown up ten feet in the air, as the Black Shark helicopters ran the length of the convoy, shooting at glowing images on their screens with a 30 mm cannon. Single red glows were seen running, but the aircraft concentrated on the groups of red and turned the grass median between the roads cerise with blood. A troop deuce and a half truck went up in flames as a hand launched RPG struck the cab, killing the occupants instantly. Albert watched as the troop carrier left the road, tilted steeply to the left side and then fell over, exploding. Machine-gun rounds struck the General's car, but it was equipped with armor plating where needed. And Albert prayed none struck the glass or they'd all be killed.
When the helicopters banked and lined up for another pass, a Russian shoulder launched rocket zoomed into space, causing a Black Shark to explode in air. Albert watched in horror as a twisting mass of rolling and burning metal struck the highway behind him. It missed the convoy, but not by much. A huge fireball exploded into the air.
The remaining two helicopters launched missiles at the red glowing lights on their infrared monitors, and then came back around to use machine-guns on their external racks to fire into the trees.
“Uh, Convoy Leader, this is Eagle 1.”
“Go, Eagle.”
“I have two fast burners that will light up the median, as well as the woods south of the highway, with napalm. Shortly after that we will return to base to rearm and refuel. By then, another group of Black Sharks from Jackson will be on station to escort you the remainder of your trip. They will go to the airport with you.”
“Any idea of the number of partisans killed?”
“Uh, a conservative guess is close to 100, but it is more probable it was double that figure.”
“Copy, between 100 and 200 killed.”
“Here come your jets, Convoy Leader. Good luck on your trip.”
“Copy, Convoy Leader out.”
Both sides of the highway suddenly exploded with high flames as the napalm canisters struck the ground. In an instant, all the partisan wounded were visited by death from above.
My God, thought Albert, what a horrible way to die.
“More Vodka, Colonel?” the General asked.
“N . . . no, I am fine, sir. I cannot believe there were that many partisans waiting to ambush this convoy. It is almost as if they knew you were part of it.”
“Come, Colonel, I am sure they knew I was in this car. Very few things are planned or discussed on the base that the partisans do not learn about. It is very likely some of the men and women employed on the base are in the resistance and they are spying on us all the time.”
As they drove, the radioman said, “Sir, we lost one heavy troop carrier with 20 troops and one motorcycle rider. The man on the motorcycle was decapitated when his motorcycle drove under a thin wire. The troop carrier was struck by what looked like an RPG and exploded. Of course, none of the bodies will be picked up until after daylight in the morning, sir.”
“Contact both Edwards and Jacks
on. Let both of them know what has happened. Tell Edwards I said the dead Black Shark pilot is to be posthumously promoted and decorated.”
“Yes, sir.”
In Moscow, Albert was a nervous wreck. He'd gone over and over his presentation so many times he had dreamed of it the night before. He was dressed in his finest and looking sharp, but hoped the Generals didn't turn on him as they had most officers from occupied America. He'd heard some real horror stories about the morning briefings with the Generals.
He was kept in a side room, because much of what they discussed was classified and he had no need to know. But finally the door opened and a tin soldier wearing the rank of Captain said, “It is time for your presentation, Colonel.”
“This is Lieutenant Colonel Albert Pajari, gentlemen. He will brief us on his firsthand account of the Chinese involvement in America.” General Matveev said and then sat down.
When the first slide popped up on the screen, it had Colonel Pajari's name, rank, unit and date on the slide. It was classified Top Secret. It showed in vivid color the destruction done to Edwards Air Base.
“Gentlemen, three days ago I personally took these photos with my own camera. Any expert can confirm they have not been doctored or manipulated in any way.” He pushed the button for the next slide.
“This is a Red Chinese Xian JH-7, fighter-bomber, and we were attacked by a squadron of them, without warning, and with no anti-aircraft defenses in place. In the next slide, you will be able to clearly see the pilot's Asian face, and he is wearing a clear visor, so look at his eyes, and notice the smile on his lips. His name is below the canopy window, but I did not make note of his name.”
On and on he briefed the Generals, until his allotted hour was complete. General Matveev, walked up on the stage and said, “This officer has done a great service for the Motherland. I think his presentation, which proves the Peoples Army of China is active in occupied America, and his prior work under me, demonstrates his rank is too low. I am now asking that Lieutenant Colonel Pajari be promoted to the rank of Full Colonel. Each of you has read or had the opportunity to read his resume and I think he is most deserving.”
