I broke into a big smile as I realized Carol was in my tent. I turned to Stas and asked, “Why didn't you tell me this before?”
“I wanted a detailed after action report and not something you'd throw together so you could run to your tent. Actually, sir, the bottle is yours for the two of you to enjoy tonight. I'm very happy for you, as we all are.”
“Thank you, Stas, and I appreciate the bottle. Uh, I have a Private Dobins that will start working for you in the morning. She's pregnant, and I can't use her in the field.”
“Her lover still alive?” Stas asked.
“Yep and in my squad; why?”
“Just wondering. Many of us are here today and gone tomorrow. We can use the help, honestly.”
“She'll show in the morning. Look, I'm tired, so let me grab some rations, head to my tent and meet my new Captain. Thanks, guys, all of you.”
At my tent, I walked in and caught Carol sleeping on the bed. I stood for a few minutes, just looking at her and appreciating her beauty, but finally sat the whiskey bottle on the folding desk I had. I grabbed a towel, soap, and clean clothes, then moved for the shower.
When I returned, she was sitting on the edge of the bed giving me a coy look. I smiled and said, “I have something to drink if you want some. It's on the table beside the bed.”
“Do you want one?”
“Sure, and the glasses are on the box on the other side of my bed. I live a very spartan life.” I replied, and then laughed.
“I hope you don't mind me using your bed for a few hours. I could smell you on the sheets.”
“You could have had a good whiff just a few minutes ago. I had been in the field for two days, so I was gamy to say the least. Did you have any trouble getting here?”
“Nope, I put a bikini on and stuck a stamp on my forehead, and here I am.” she teased with a smile.
I walked to her, looked deeply into her eyes and kissed her. She moaned, whispered my name, and then said, “Sit and let's have our drinks. I'm beat, and I know you must be.”
I knocked my drink back, met her eyes and said, “I'm done with mine.”
She smiled and said, “You're still as crazy as ever, huh? We have time now, baby, because I'm assigned here.”
“I had a young lady come to me today and tell me she was pregnant. I'm not sure why I just told you that, except it could happen to us.”
“Not with me, because I'm on the pill. We get them from China now, did you know that? Years back when they tried to control the births and population of their nation, they became the leading authority on birth control and I mean all forms, too.”
“Interesting. Good to know.”
“Now, I've finished my drink, how about we get some sleep?”
I waited for her to lay back and then I leaned forward and began kissing her neck. I was thinking how lucky I was as my passion ignited.
Early the next morning I was awakened by loud shouts and gunfire. I grabbed my Russian Bison and stepped from my tent. I made my way to the command post and asked the Lieutenant on duty, “What in the hell is going on?”
“Russian POW escaped. It was reported he killed his guard and took his pistol. That's really all we know right now, sir.”
“Who was his guard?”
Looking at a sheet of paper in his hand he said, “A Staff Sergeant Grant out of Intelligence.”
“Tell the troops I want that sonofbitch captured or killed.”
“They are well aware of that, sir.”
“Let me know the minute you have word on him, okay?” I asked, but thought, That Dennis is a sneaky bastard. I knew we should have shot him as soon as we knew his job.
“I'll do that, Colonel.”
“I want all troops not on detail or gearing for missions after that man.”
“It's already been done, sir.”
I could see the man wanted me to leave so they could do their jobs, so I did. Just as I entered my tent, I heard Dennis say, “Good morning, Colonel, and if you move too quickly with that Bison, I may just kill this pretty woman.”
I saw the man standing beside my bed, holding Carol with his left arm.
I said, “Let her go, she isn't part of this.”
“All Americans and Russians are a part of this! It's much bigger than just the three of us. Now hand me the weapon, slowly.” I saw he had Grant's 1911 Colt barrel pushed against Carol's neck. If he pulled the trigger, he'd blow her head off.
I handed the weapon to him slowly and once he had it, he pushed her roughly away from him. I was far from unarmed, though. I carried a pistol in the holster on my right side and a knife with a ten inch blade in a sheath on my left side, and a .38 in the small of my back. I just needed a distraction or for him to move the barrel of that .45 away from me. Carol was on the bed as he stood at the foot. He more or less had both of us covered.
We could easily hear the noises outside the tent and then someone called out, “Colonel, are you okay in there?”
The Russian's eyes moved to the tent flap expecting someone to enter, but I answered, “Just fine. I'll be out in a bit; getting dressed and loading my weapons.”
Just then, Carol rolled off the bed and reached for her pistol on her left side. I saw her bringing her hand up filled with the cold iron as Dennis moved his Bison toward her. Her Ruger 9mm coughed once and the Russian spun around. His gun discharged, sending a line of bullet holes down the side of my tent.
“Dennis, stop!” I yelled.
I reached for my .38, brought it away from my back, aimed at center mass on Dennis and squeezed the trigger three times. The first two bullets struck him center chest, but the last struck his right arm and the Bison fell from his grasp. He screamed and fell to the grass carpet that lined my tent. Blood seeped from entrance holes, but from his back it flowed freely, pooling under him. His hand found the Bison, but he didn't raise it.
“Carol, get out of here, now!” I yelled, knowing being shot didn't make the Russian any less dangerous.
She took her knife and cut the back of my tent and then stepped outside. She was smart, because by leaving that way Dennis had no target when she moved. The dying man was looking at me and tried to raise his gun, but was unable to do so.
“Colonel, are you okay in there?” I heard one of my folks ask.
“Yes, I'm fine. Gather up three more men, come in here, and take the escaped Russian Colonel to the hospital. Hurry now, he's dying.”
Four men entered, the Bison was kicked away from him and he was searched for weapons. Another pistol was found, a sheath knife in the small of his back, and a Chinese grenade.
“I'm glad he didn't use the grenade, because they are unstable and undependable at the best of times.” I said as the explosive was removed from him.
“You . . . you . . . will soon . . . die . . . C . . . Colonel.” Dennis managed to get out as he grimaced.
“So will you, and be sure to say hello to the Devil for me.” I moved to the side to allow the men to take him away.
Corporal Brown, one of my snipers said, “He must really hate you, sir. He could have escaped, but wanted you dead more than anything.”
“No, he doesn't hate me, he hates Americans and what we are as a people. He simply saw me as a symbol of this great nation.”
“Great nation? We're hardly that.”
“I disagree. Our society may be gone, but as a people, our strong American spirit lives on.”
Brown nodded and said, “We always root for the underdog and right now, that's us.”
Chapter 11
“Damn you, stop! You are killing us!” Boris Romanovich yelled into the handset. The Master Sergeant looked around and saw Isaak for sure dead, and he had a number of wounded. He'd not know the seriousness of their injuries until the medic looked them all over. The helicopter had been devastating when it struck.
“Cobra Three, this is Wolf One, and we were told we have no friendlies in this area, over.”
“We forgot to call in our night positio
n, Wolf One; I have mostly green troops with me.”
“Roger that; what is the extent of your injuries, over?”
“Wait one.”
Checking his troops quickly, the Sergeant replied a minute or so later. “Uh, one dead and three injured, over.”
“Sorry about that, Cobra Three, but this area is suspected free of friendly troops.”
“Our fault, Wolf One. Let me arrange a ride home for my injured, Cobra Three out.”
The Lieutenant was almost falling apart now, so the Master Sergeant said, “Slava, as the medic, how badly injured are these three?”
“They need a hospital, beyond any doubt, and Dima's arm is only attached by a thin piece of skin. I have had to give all of them morphine. Isaak is as dead as he will ever be.”
“Cobra Three, to Base, over.”
“Base, Cobra Three, go.”
The Master Sergeant explained what had happened and then requested a medical pickup of his wounded. He soon handed the handset to Private Olegovich and then said, “Ten minutes on the helicopter. They are bringing us four replacements, too, so we can stay out here.”
“Oh, joy.” someone said sarcastically.
“Knock it off, and I mean now! Remember, you are all soldiers and each of you volunteered to be in the army.”
Using a strobe with an infrared cover, they had no problems linking with the rescue helicopter. They had moved the wounded to near a fairly large field and when the helicopter landed, as soon as the replacements were off the aircraft the dead and injured were loaded aboard. It was then the first ground fire was heard.
The loud rat-tat-tat of a machine-gun was heard and holes suddenly appeared on the skin of the helicopter right above the door. “We are taking fire, I repeat, we are taking ground fire from our west side.”
“Copy, Rescue One. This is Bull One and we are two Black Sharks looking for a fight.”
“Bull One this is Cobra Three and I need you to hit the trees west of me.”
“My infrared screen is full of red hot spots in those trees, Cobra Three. I am rolling in hot and will use missiles first.”
“Copy, Bull.” Romanovich said and then yelled, “Get your heads down, now!”
As his folks lowered to the ground seeking cover, the rescue chopper labored to gain altitude in the confusion. Smoke was pouring from the engines, but so far both were running smoothly. With his NVGs on, the Master Sergeant noticed the windshield was shattered on the copilot’s side and the man appeared dead. He also noticed a door gunner dangling about six feet below the aircraft, hanging by a nylon strap. He looked, but could see little more of the occupants.
Soon the rescue bird was out of sight. The woods to their west exploded from the rocket attacks and the Sergeant knew partisans were dying. On the third go around, the two choppers used their Gatling guns and the noise was unbelievable.
“Uh, Cobra Three, we are returning to base to rearm and refuel. We will be back as soon as we can. In the meantime, there are two Su-34 fast movers nearing your position.”
“Roger and copy, Bull One.”
“Cobra Three this is Tiger One, and we are here when you need us.”
“Copy, Tiger One.” While Romanovich knew the jets were near, they must have been high because he didn't hear or see them.
Yakovic neared and said, “I have the new troops settled in, and all four are seasoned with at least one combat tour behind them.”
“Good, let us hope the remainder of the night is quiet. I want a fifty percent alert the rest of the night.”
Near four in the morning the last two jets contacted him to say they were returning to base.
Near dawn, the Master Sergeant went from soldier to soldier waking them and telling them to eat. The four replacements were already eating and alert. He informed Makarovich that he was on point and Timur was his drag man. The compass heading was 163 degrees and Petrovich would count the steps. Both his point and rear men were new to the unit but this was not their first circus, and both were combat veterans of previous tours in America.
By dawn they were on the trail with each soldier cursing the weight they carried, but each knew if a heavy fight started they would have what they needed to stay alive.
Romanovich had heard nothing from his Lieutenant all night. He moved to the officer and asked, “Are you doing okay, sir?”
“For my first mission, I am doing much better than I thought I would do. These packs are heavy.”
“The missions get easier with experience, and yesterday was just another day on the job for a person in the infantry.”
“I want to thank you for doing all the work, because I had no idea what to do. I froze, I guess.”
“That is expected too, sir, which is why the Army sent me to be with you. You will learn over time, so keep your eyes open, head low, and you will do fine.”
The Junior Lieutenant nodded and kept moving. Romanovich moved back to the center of the line so he could be at either end of the line quickly. The morning passed slowly with Makarovich marking booby traps and mines, but the going was difficult.
During the noon meal the Master Sergeant sat beside Makarovich and asked, “Why do you not have any rank? You must be the best point man I have ever seen.”
The Private gave a light chuckle and said, “I have been in the Army over three years and each time I get promoted I get drunk and then start fighting and I lose my promotion.”
“Do you win most of your fights?”
“Most, but not all. I am too short and light to win all of them.”
The man was about five feet and four inches and maybe 120 pounds. His red hair was cropped short and his smile was genuine. His lack of promotions he fully understood, and had no complaints with the Army over the action they'd taken.
“So, you are small and mean like a badger, huh?”
“Pretty much, but I do like a good fist fight.”
“As of this moment, you can consider yourself a Corporal. I will not take a stripe from you for fighting, but I think I can satisfy your need for violence.”
“Seems most commanders are glad to have me in the field, but in garrison, no one wants me. I know I am no spit and polish soldier, but I know my job well.”
“How do you feel about the partisans?”
“They are the enemy of Mother Russia, and that makes them my enemy too. But personally, I have nothing against any American. I have never met one, and the only ones I have seen were dead.”
“Hurry and eat; we will be leaving in about seven minutes.” The Master Sergeant stood and began checking his much younger troops.
Over the course of the day, he used each new man on point and all worked out fine, with nothing getting by them. At dusk, they prepared an L shaped ambush and moved to the bushes to see what they'd bag. Their intelligence section told the Master Sergeant and Lieutenant that the trail was heavily used.
Until midnight they'd be on 100% alert and then they'd go to 50%.
It was just after one in the morning when a man materialized from the mist and all that were awake let him walk through. Then minutes later the main formation appeared and it was near twenty men, so Junior Lieutenant Slavavich squeezed the clackers. Instantly, between 485 and 540 steel balls or short steel rods shot from each of the NON-50s into the mass of partisans. Horrific screams were heard, and one man was walking in a circle with both of his arms gone, blood running down what remained of his two limbs like a river. A prayer was heard, but none of the Russians realized what the words meant. Then, the Russian guns opened up, loud and deadly.
“Grenade!” someone yelled in English, and a few seconds later the explosion was heard.
Then it grew quiet with only the wounded making any noise, and all but one of them only moaned. The screaming wounded was a woman, and her pain must have been great. Wearing NVGs the Russians waded through the bodies to kill those still alive. The deep cough of rifle fire was heard along with the higher bang of the pistols.
When it grew quiet
, the Line Sergeant Slavavich neared and said, “The woman screaming was disemboweled and had a long piece of wood in her left eye. I have silenced her forever.”
There sounded a Bison on fully automatic, followed by a loud scream.
“I just killed their drag man.” someone said.
“Strip them of any maps, patches, or papers.” he said, and then used the radio to contact base headquarters.
“Roger, base, a confirmed KIA count of twenty-one, with only their point man escaping. About a third of the group, seven, were female and the rest male. We are gathering intelligence and papers at this time.”
“Copy, and thanks for the heads up.”
“Hurry, because we are to move about 6 kilometers and place another ambush.” the Sergeant said as he looked around at his men and women.
A young Private neared and handed two patches to the Lieutenant, and neither was the same.
“We need to move, because Chinese attack helicopters have been spotted near here.” the Master Sergeant said.
“Do they have infrared capabilities?”
“They do, and are as advanced as ours, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, you have a call from Moscow on line three, the blinking line.” Sergeant Glasha Yevgenievna spoke through the intercom connection with Colonel Elin Yanovich.
“Hello, Colonel Elin Yanovich, here.”
“Elin, it is me, General Tima Aleskeevich. How are you, my old friend?”
“I am fine, General, so what can I do for you?”
“Nothing for me, but the Marshal of the Russian Federation wants to know how a group of farmers and peasants wiped out one of our companies. He is livid, and his rage was obvious at this afternoon’s meeting. He wants the commander shot.”
“Sir, Moscow presented the commander of that company with three very high medals and even promoted him from the enlisted ranks, and now you want me to shoot him? Not a month ago the Marshal of the Russian Federation was praising his name.”
The Fall of America | Book 6 | Call Sign Copperhead Page 12
