The Fall of America | Book 6 | Call Sign Copperhead

by Benton, W. R.

  Stas was heard talking with Sergeant Parsons, so I stuck my head through the tent flap and said, “Come on in, and what brings you to my quarters so early? It's not even 0600 yet.” I gave him a smile.

  “Take a look at the package Headquarters sent us. Now, one of the prisoners is the son of the current President of China. In case you don't know, the position has little legal power and is mainly ceremonial, but the man is powerful. He has a lot of power within the communist political system and I know now why they want him taken out. If he talks or is made to look bad, it will make all of China look bad. I see the order to have them killed was signed by the President, Zhen Xinya, himself. That's the pilot's father.” He handed a thick tan envelope to me.

  “The crew looks like junior high school kids.” I said as I pulled two 8X10 color photos from the envelope. They look well qualified, with both wearing jump wings and aircrew wings. “I'm a bit confused by the rank though.”

  “Both are Captains.”

  “Names? And, don't tell me to read them, because I can't pronounce them, and I see the English over the Chinese.”

  “The President’s son is Qin Xinya, the man on the left, and his weapons system operator is Cheng Shui. I'm unsure about Shui, but HQ tells me his father is also in politics, but of a lower position than Xinya.”

  “I imagine in a communist nation almost everyone must be in politics to some degree, if they wish to live decently. I see the Chinese as having two income levels, the have and have-nots, with most not having much.”

  “I don't get involved in politics, because just staying alive around here is hard enough.”

  “Do we have anyone here that speaks Chinese? There must be an inch of papers in here, but not a word in English.”

  “Uh, the radio said an American born Chinese by the name of Yang Xue is due in here today or tomorrow.”

  “Where did they find him, I wonder?”

  “The Chinese are all over, and in most towns and cities, but all of them I know live in larger places that have a China Town or neighborhood for them. They don't bother most folks, tend to mind their own business, and are rarely noticed, something they have perfected since they began coming to this country.”

  “Okay, but other than reading most of this stuff in the pouch, why is he being sent? Looks to me like they could've translated all of this stuff at Headquarters much easier.”

  “He's coming to read this is all I know, well, what I suspect. If he has a different mission, he'll let us know.”

  “Suspect? You mean you don't really know?”

  “Colonel, we have papers in Chinese and have a Chinese speaking American coming, so I assumed they belong together. If he's here for a different reason, he'll let us know, I'm sure.”

  “The Army ain't changed since I was an E-1, do you realize this? Still mass confusion half the time and now that I'm a commander, I don't know much more than I did as a no striper. I'm still blindly following orders.”

  Eller laughed and then when he sobered he said, “Let's change the subject for a minute and talk about Tom Hensley.”

  “Sure, is there a problem?”

  “The last three times he's gone out, the squad bypassed targets and did not engaged a single Russian. In one case it was a broken down Russian T-90 tank, in another he let a whole company walk through his ambush and in the last, he could have grabbed two Russians who were with two local women about a half a mile from the fort. He claimed in the last situation he was afraid the women would be injured or killed.”

  “I see, so we may have a coward on our hands. When you return, tell Captain Hensley he's going out tonight with me to attack a train. Let him know he'll be in charge, but I'll be along to evaluate how well his people do. I want the train attacked between Rolla and Newburg and before we attack the train, we'll blow the railroad bridge over the Little Piney River. Tell him it's crucial this attack happens and we're looking for Russian supplies, especially chemical/biological gear, and other material.”

  “Oh, he won't like this at all, but I'll enjoy telling him.”

  “Tell him we'll not blow the tracks, but we will pull the spikes on some of the rails and then pull them out of alignment, maybe about 6 inches, on each side. That will be enough to make the cars run off the track, especially the engine. To do that, he'll need a way to pull the spikes. The last report you gave me indicated the Russians are guarding trains with about a company of men, so we'll need grenades, C-4 explosives, and two machine-guns. In my previous train experience, the Russians usually mount machine-guns on flatbed cars.”

  “How will you move the gear back here? We have some horses he can use, or bicycles.”

  “Give him both and let's see how he handles this. A bicycle can carry as much as a horse if a man knows how to use one properly. My dad showed me images of the Viet Cong in the Vietnam War and they put hundreds of pounds on a bike, extended the handlebars with a limb and then pushed the damned thing from Hanoi to Saigon down the Ho Chi Min trail. I discovered that's 1,092 miles if you're driving, and much more if you were on a twisting and turning jungle trail. I can safely add another 500 miles to the trip on the trail. So give that some thought.”

  “What will happen if Hensley blows this?”

  “I will demote him down to Sergeant and he can work his way back up again. I have no use for leaders who fail to lead or won't fight.”

  Sergeant Parsons stuck her head in and said, “Sir, Top is taking a turn for the worse and wants to speak with you. The doctors don't think he'll survive the day.”

  “Take care of Hensley and tell him to meet me here at 1800 hours. If I determine he's unsuited to lead, I'll get rid of him. I have to leave, because Top and I go way back.”

  “I know Top, and tell him hello for me.” Eller said as he left my tent.

  I made my way to the hospital with Dolly at my side and found Top awake, but not looking good at all. His face and even his lips were pale. He looked weak, but he did smile when I walked in his room.

  “How are you doin', Top?” I asked with a smile.

  “Not . . . well. I . . . hurt and I'm . . . so tired. I'll . . . join my . . . wife . . . today.”

  “Oh, you have years left.”

  “No, I'll . . . not . . . last the . . . day.”

  “What can I do for you, Top?”

  “Nothin' . . . listen to . . . me. I am . . . proud . . . of you. Willy . . . is proud . . . too.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Come . . . closer so . . . I can hold . . . your hand.”

  “Sure.” I moved to his side and saw on a machine that his heartbeat was very irregular. I took his left hand in mine.

  “I always . . . thought of you . . . as a son.”

  “Thank you, because I'm honored.”

  “I want to tell you —”

  Top gave a loud gasp, his eyes met mine and they grew huge. Dolly began to whine. His feet kicked a couple of times and the machine monitoring his heart went off and in rushed a team of men and women. I saw the line for his heart was straight and not moving. I was pushed out the door and took a seat in the waiting room. Dolly moved to my side and placed her head in my lap.

  Thirty minutes later, a doctor came from the room, approached me and said, “Our Top Sergeant is dead. There was just too much internal trauma to keep him alive. I'm very sorry, Colonel, because he spoke of you often.”

  I nodded and left, my mind numb, because I'd loved that black man like a father.

  Near noon, Captain Yang Xue arrived and was quickly pulled into the intelligence office. Then they sent for me. Xue was larger than the average Chinese, about double in size, and quickly informed us in excellent English his father was Chinese and his mother an American. That quickly explained his size difference, which I guessed guess was six feet and four inches. He gave us a quick bio, but what caught my ear was Xue had a PhD in microbiology and was here to lessen the impact of Russian poison gases, if used. He knew how to make a gas from scratch, and explained it was sim
ple to do. He said from a scale of 1 to 5, with 5 being the highest likelihood of gases being used, the Russians were sitting on a 3.75 or 4. He felt if they suffered a few more major losses in battle, the gases would be used right after that.

  “When I dealt with poison gases in Mississippi, they'd fly over and spray the chemicals out like they were watering a garden.”

  “The gases can be delivered in many ways, but spraying is great for large sections of land, like a county or city. That is an easy and cheap way to deliver the gases. If they want to gas just a field, they'll deliver a bomb or artillery shell filled with gas.”

  “Is there anything we can do to prepare for an attack?”

  “Not a whole lot, not really, except issue and keep your chemical/biological gear near.”

  “I don't like that at all. That will just add weight to the men and women in the field.”

  “Colonel, we have no choice.” Xue said.

  Chapter 13

  Once at the downed Chinese aircraft, the Master Sergeant had the two Asians step from the cockpit and lay on the ground. They were searched and a pistol was taken from each man, along with a twelve inch survival knife. Their hands were tied behind their backs and they were made to stand.

  “Base, Cobra Three, inform the commander I have two crew members from the Chinese aircraft and an almost intact CAIC Z-10 on my hands. Do you want to wait to pick us up at dawn or do the job now?”

  “Uh, wait one.”

  “Anyone seen the Lieutenant?”

  “He is dead, Master Sergeant, and most of his head is missing.” Private Slava said.

  “I need for some of you to return and work on our wounded. Also prepare the dead for body bags. Remove all grenades and ammo, along with weapons, from the bodies. Do the job with respect too, because these are our comrades. Corporal Makarovich, I want your squad to guard our guests, but do not mistreat them.”

  “Yes, we will guard them. Move toward the burning tank.” the Corporal said as he pushed one of the small men forward. The other man followed.

  Romanovich was suddenly tired and hungry. He was getting too old to be out chasing bad guys, and every night he spent in the field was progressively getting harder on him. He wondered what kind of special treat the commander would give them. Most likely a couple of bottles of vodka, he thought.

  Ten minutes later, the radio squawked.

  “Flight of ten helicopters coming in, Master Sergeant, and overhead are four jets.” my radioman said.

  “Our guests are valuable fodder for the propaganda machines, do you not see? Now, the Russian Bear has not only a helicopter of Chinese manufacture, but a pilot and weapons system operator. We have hit the big time.”

  “The two little men looked scared to death to me, but what do I know? I am just a radioman in the Army.”

  Romanovich laughed and when he sobered he took the radio and said, “This is Cobra Three and what is your ETA?”

  “Two minutes. I will need someone to pop smoke for us and I will turn my lights for a minute or so. The POWs are to come out on the first bird, which is mine.”

  “Private Petrovich, move to the end of the field and prepare to pop smoke for the first aircraft landing. He will transmit wind direction as he lands for the prisoners.”

  “I am moving there now, Master Sergeant.”

  “Corporal Makarovich, bring the two prisoners to me and once the helicopters are here, help me load them.”

  The Chinese moved forward and even in the darkness, Romanovich could see the fear in their eyes. Both were short, maybe five feet two inches, and they looked more like young men in high school than combat veterans. He would have guessed their ages at around fifteen or so. Both had black hair and narrow black eyes.

  When the first aircraft landed, the orange smoke moving east, the two Chinese were loaded along with five men from Corporal Makarovich's squad and the helicopter immediately took to the air. Romanovich immediately saw two escort helicopters, both Black Sharks, drop down to fly on each side of the aircraft and a fast mover was flying slowly overhead. Headquarters wanted the POWs returned safely.

  “Master Sergeant Romanovich, you have been ordered out on the next wave, first chopper. Then all of us will be removed.” the radioman said.

  Once back at Fort Leonard Wood, the Master Sergeant was ushered into the base commander’s private car and driven to the man's office. He was quickly taken inside Headquarters and met with the commander in a private room.

  “Master Sergeant, your actions tonight were outstanding and, as a result, you will be returning home, your assignment cut short, and will go on a tour across our great nation. You are the first man to capture evidence, solid evidence, that the Chinese are playing an active part in this war. I am able to offer you a promotion to Major, some very highly respected medals, and a 60 day leave in Russia.”

  “This is most generous of you, sir, but all I did was my job. Of course I will take what you are offering, because a Major makes more retirement money than a Master Sergeant. I have medals, but if you insist, I will take them too, and no man will ever turn down free leave. I want to thank you, sir.”

  “Good; this afternoon, at 1800 hours, I will do the promotion ceremony and present you with some medals. Then, you need to pack, because you and I will be leaving at first light if all goes well. Then the Chinese POWs will go out later. It is imperative that they be thoroughly interrogated here before they go to the Russia.”

  “I understand, sir. What about my people who were with me? Capturing them was a team effort.”

  “Give me a list of your Sergeants and Corporals and all will be promoted one rank. I will also give all of them a week off and some bottles of vodka.”

  “They will appreciate that, sir.”

  “Thanks to you, Major, I now have my first star.”

  Extending his hand, they shook, and Romanovich said, “Congratulations, sir. When do you pin it on?”

  “This afternoon at 1800 hours. We will both be promoted at the same meeting.”

  “Will that be all, sir? I need to meet my troops as they return and then rest a little.”

  “Yes, of course, and I should have considered your fatigue. You do what is needed and then eat in the officers mess. If you have any problems, have them contact me.”

  At the 1800 meeting, Romanovich and Yanovich were both promoted. Romanovich was presented three medals, which meant little to him. He already had almost twenty, so three more were nothing. One positive aspect of being an officer now was he could spend more time with Georgiy than before. The new General said, “I am sorry, but the Major and I will be leaving for Moscow in the morning at 0600, and we will not have a promotion party nor be at the Officers Club. However, we have informed the Officers Club that all drinks from 1830 hours until 2030 are on the two of us. So, go by and have some drinks on us, gentlemen. Colonel Olegovich, good luck on your new position as the base commander.”

  As the new General walked from the room, an old Master Sergeant yelled, “Teeeen Huuuoooot!” from the very pit of his stomach. Everyone stood.

  Romanovich made his way to see Georgiy and when he knocked on the door, he was met by Lena wearing only a robe.

  “My God, Romanovich, is that you dressed as a Major? Come, come in, please. Ilik will be so happy to see this.”

  When he entered, Ilik was sitting on the sofa, so he stood, gave a big smile and asked, “How did that happen?”

  “I got lucky and captured two Chinese aircrew members and their attack helicopter almost completely intact. Even the external pods were loaded up. Moscow was so happy they promoted Yanovich to General and me to Major. I took the promotion mainly for the money, because I will retire in a couple of years. My assignment here has been cut short, and I am to return home and then go on tour after 60 days of leave.”

  “Boris, that is simply great news. I do not think this could have happened to a better man than you. It calls for a celebration, so let me pull some top shelf vodka. You a Major, wow, and
you still outrank me.” Ilik said, and then laughed.

  “I cannot stay long or drink much, because I head home first thing in the morning with the General. I want you to keep your eyes and ears open, Ilik, because we are getting ready to use chemical and biological weapons in this state for the first time. That shit can kill you, and all you have to do is make one small mistake.”

  “I have worked in it before on my first two tours here. I think it is overkill, but no one asked what I thought.” He took Lena's hand and pulled her to his legs, and she sat in his lap. She leaned forward, her head resting on his shoulder. Ilik poured the drinks and, handing one to Boris, he smiled.

  “Keep in touch with me and we will get together again in the future, but if we have to do the job, it will be after we retire.” He knocked his vodka back, wiped his mouth off and said, “I need to go. I spent most of the afternoon packing and now I need to go by the Officers Club, eat, and then get ready for bed. I have to be at the airport at 0600 for my flight.”

  “Take care, Boris, and if you need me, just let me know.” Ilik stood and embraced his friend.

  “I am a little excited, because my wife does not know of my promotion. I will contact you if I need you, my friend. Stay safe.” He walked to the door and Lena let him out, then closed and locked the door.

  At 0600 Romanovich and the General walked down a long hall in the airport to board their aircraft. There was a long line of well wishers lining both sides of the hallway, clapping and shaking hands with the two men. Ilik and Lena stood in the background waving at their friend. Boris saw them and waved back.

  They pushed through the crowd and when they entered the aircraft, the General was shown to first class, as was Romanovich. Minutes later, a small group of men returning home after completing their one year tour boarded and were shown to the coach section. Not long after that the engines started and they began to taxi. The fasten your seat-belt sign came on and a beautiful woman stood in front of both sections showing how to use the life preserver and oxygen mask. The aircraft was a commercial flight booked by the Russian government to transport troops to and from America. Then they turned from the taxiway to the runway.