The Fall of America | Book 6 | Call Sign Copperhead

by Benton, W. R.

  Romanovich smiled; he was going home and his wife, if she'd waited for him, would be so surprised at his promotion and happy he would be home for a year or more. Perhaps they would be happier now, because they'd have much more money to live on. He heard power applied to the engines, felt the bird shudder as only the brakes held it in place, and then they began to move down the long slab of concrete. They gently lifted off, the wheels were heard when they bumped into the wheel well, and then a whirling sound was heard as the flaps were adjusted. The aircraft made a hard bank to the right and, looking out his window, Romanovich saw a small missile fly past them. The aircraft had leveled, but the nose went up and more power was given to the engines. It seemed to Boris as if the pilot was fighting for more altitude.

  Where did that missile come from? he wondered.

  Then, there was a loud boom sound on the right wing and, looking out, the Major could see the engine was gone and the wing was on fire. The pilot aborted his climb for altitude and turned gently to return to base. Just as they were about to touch down, the aircraft leaned hard to the right and the undamaged wing, heavier now, struck the runway. The aircraft then cartwheeled down the landing strip, throwing parts of people and the plane all over the place. Then, it exploded and the last thing Romanovich saw was a wall of hot orange flames moving toward him. A micro second later, life as he knew it ended.

  As Georgiy watched, a body flew through the air from the airplane to land on the grasses between the taxiway and runway. Debris was flying in all directions. A long wet strip of fuel and oil was following the aircraft as it slid down the concrete. Dust and smoke filled the air making it hard to see the crash site.

  “My God, Ilik, the plane crashed! I need to get to the hospital and now!”

  “Go; I will stay here and help. They will surely have injured and dead.”

  As she ran toward the hospital, he noticed the aircraft was broken into three sections and he'd seen the two surface-to-air missiles fired. He'd even watched one strike the outboard engine on the right wing. He thought the aircraft would land safely, but then at the last second it had cartwheeled and exploded. He stood stunned as the emergency response teams moved for the wreckage.

  I need to help if I can, he thought and then took out running for the crash site.

  Soon, he was assisting in pulling the injured and bodies from the wreckage. Those near the explosion were all horribly burned and disfigured. More than once he gagged at the smell of charred bodies and the condition of some of the dead. He'd just placed a dead woman in uniform on the ground near a row of bodies when he spotted Boris.

  He moved to his friend and half of his face was melted from the flames. Most of this clothing was burned off, but he still had his boots on and that fascinated Ilik. Just as he started to cover him, Boris opened his one good eye.

  His voice cracking and body in horrible pain, Romanovich managed to say, “I . . . I hurt.”

  His good hand reached for his friend. When Ilik took his friend’s hand in his, he didn't say anything about the burnt flesh that fell from the extremity, but it made him shiver. Boris' hand and whole arm shivered violently as his one good eye darted from spot to spot.

  Georgiy turned and yelled, “Medic! I have a live one here!”

  A team neared and started to work on the Major. They quickly had an IV inserted. The medic then stuck a morphine needle into a connection on the tube and Boris' pain grew much less. He remembered hearing someone scream before they struck the ground and looking around, he saw no sign of the General. He'd find out later because right now, he was getting sleepy. A minute later, he was asleep.

  “What are his chances of living?” Georgiy asked the medic.

  “Twenty percent might survive, because he has been severely burned and he is in for months of bad pain. Many develop pneumonia and breathing problems. If that happens, most die.”

  “Thank you; now I must assist others.”

  When Lena got home, she found Ilik drunk and quiet. She could tell he'd been crying, because his eyes were red, wet, and swollen. She walked to the sofa, sat beside him and pulled his head to her breasts.

  “Cry if you must, but remember I am here for you.”

  He cried.

  Finally, he said, “As I held his hand, his burnt flesh was falling from his fingers, and his whole body shivered in pain. His . . . his face on one side was melted, not burned black, but melted like a piece of plastic! God help me, but I wish the crash had killed him!”

  “And the General?”

  “Decapitated and burned badly. They will have to identify him by his dental records and DNA. I suspect he was alive one second and dead the next. The terrible smell, cries of the injured, and praying of the dying, I will never forget, never!”

  “I can understand how you feel, because I work in the burn unit and see those things every single day. Not a week goes by without a soldier from a burned tank showing up, a man burned by napalm, or one that has walked in flames for some reason. The wounds are horrific; we will always remember them and the memories will last a lifetime.”

  “I . . . I have seen many men killed, but to be alive and in such condition is something I do not want to ever happen to me. Let them give me too much morphine or something.”

  “I can understand, my love. Now, you need a shower and something to eat. After we eat, we will go to bed early and try to sleep. I am sure you will sleep because you have had enough vodka to float a ship. Come, let us eat first, then shower.”

  They ate lightly, a little smoked fish, cheese and bread. Then they showered together and when Ilik laid down for less than a minute, the vodka in his system along with a full belly, knocked him out. Lena lightly rubbed his arm and knew how he felt. She'd treated many burn victims and could hardly stand the smell. And then to hear them scream as they were treated would be vivid in her mind forever. She fell asleep thinking of Major Romanovich and how he must look, but she avoided thinking of how he must feel.

  She was dreaming her and Ilik were at the country home of her parents and he was chasing her around the barn with both of them laughing. In the dream, she'd tripped and he'd jumped on her. He'd just leaned over to kiss her when she heard a scream.

  She awoke to Ilik sitting up in bed, his eyes huge, and sweat running down his face. She knew he was scared and he'd had a nightmare. She lightly touched his chest and could feel his heart beating insanely fast.

  “It was a bad dream, my love. Lay back down.”

  “No, I cannot sleep now. I must get up. I think the crash bothered me more than I thought.”

  “I will get up with you and we can listen to the television and cuddle.”

  “But you work in the morning.”

  “My baby needs me tonight. I will be fine.”

  Hours passed and eventually they both fell asleep on the sofa. When the alarm went off, Lena stood, lowered his head to the sofa and grabbed a quick shower. She dressed, left him a quick note, and then went to work.

  An hour later, Ilik was up and moving around when he found the note on the table.

  Dear Ilik,

  You are a good caring man and I love you for the compassion that fills your heart. While you are a brave warrior, you fight for the right reasons, for your country. No one could have seen what you did yesterday and not have bad dreams, and it does not make you weak. We, all of us in this war, even those we call our enemies, are seeing, hearing, and remembering horrible things. We are all humans, doing the best we can to stay alive where many die.

  No matter where you are or where you go, I carry you in my heart. I am a part of you, since our hearts, minds and souls have blended into one. Loving you is easy, leaving you, even just to go to work, is very hard. Know I love you, my teddy bear, and I always will.

  I love and cherish you dearly, my Ilik, and remember, you are my one and only man.

  Love,

  Lena

  Ilik smiled as he shaved. She'd understood his feelings all too well, and the note showed she knew h
e was a big soft teddy bear behind his rough military bearing. Dressing and then checking his uniform in the mirror, he still found it hard to believe he was a Captain. Twenty-five years ago he was a snotty-nosed kid on a farm mucking out stalls.

  You have come a long way, Ilik, he thought as he put his cap on and left his quarters.

  When he arrived at his unit, he saw everyone dressed and ready for their morning five kilometer run. By dressed, he meant they wore battle dress uniforms, cap, boots, weapons, and 50 pound packs. The Senior Sergeant had his gear waiting for him.

  They could actually run now, but when they first started, they were hardly able to walk with the packs on their backs and boots didn't help any.

  “Captain! Commander Colonel Olegovich on the phone for you.” Private Slava yelled from his office door. Slava had twisted an ankle a week back and did not run in the mornings with them.

  “Senior Sergeant, you take them for our morning run.”

  “Company, at my command, double time, hoooaaa!”

  Chapter 14

  I was deeply impressed after I got to know Captain Yang Xue over a couple of hours. Like I said before, he was not a small man like most Chinese, but closer to six feet than five. I noticed he pronounced his last name as 'Zoo.' His features were a mixture of white and Asian, and he had a healthy sense of humor, which I appreciated. However, his deep intelligence was immediately seen behind his dark brown eyes. He wore his black hair in a style that we in the military called high and tight. The sides were down to the scalp and the top had maybe a half inch on top.

  After I'd offered him a seat in my office I asked the purpose of his visit.

  “The Russians will strike us with poison gases within the month, and I'm here to assist you in preparing for the strike and to analyze what they drop. We know they have tons of various gases stored in Russia, but how much have they brought here? While the UN forbids the use of gas, the Russians don't give a rat's ass, and they've used it extensively in the deep south. By the way, I'm on permanent assignment here, sir, I'm not on loan.”

  “Most of my unit here, Captain, has been relocated from the deep south, Mississippi, actually. We have seen many poison gas attacks. They must have a large number of Chinese-Americans if they can afford to send me one on a permanent basis.”

  “Well,” he smiled, “maybe I can learn something from you, then. Sir, no disrespect intended, but when the Russians invaded America, they invaded our country too. When the fall came, we experienced big problems with the Chinese mafia, who tried to take over. We eventually killed them or scared them off, and then we began looking for ways to assist in regaining our nation. We're as patriotic as anyone else, some of us even more so.”

  “I seriously doubt that you'll learn much from us, but maybe. If we get enough advanced warning and protective gear can be donned, we're in no danger. However, any and all civilians that are exposed will die. I didn't meant to sound like a bigot, but I had no idea we had a large number of Chinese-Americans to turn to in our time of need. I apologize if my statement came across wrong.”

  Xue said, “Colonel, no need to apologize. Most don't realize just how many Chinese live here, and we all consider this our country too. Now, we need to post fliers that chemical/biological attacks are possible for the coming month. Our civilians must be warned.”

  “I can have them posted tonight, but none can be posted during the day. The Russians own the daylight hours, Captain. From this moment on, no one goes into the field without their complete chemical suit and mask.” I said, and wondered if this young man had any combat experience.

  “I'm well aware of your daylight control problems, sir. Now, a little about me. Before the war I was a young First Lieutenant in Special Forces, the Green Beret actually, and when the fall came, I joined a para-military group and it eventually grew into the resistance we have now. While with the Special Forces, I served in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and saw combat on each tour. I am fluent in Chinese, English, French and speak Russian and Texan fairly well.” He broke out laughing at his joke.

  “I'm still working on Texan.” I said with a laugh.

  He nodded, and wore a big smile.

  “This evening I'm going out with a group led by Captain Tom Hensley, and we'll be attacking a train carrying supplies. We'll transport the needed gear and material here by bicycle and horses. How'd you like to come along?” I said.

  Eller said, “Hensley is suspected of being a weak link in the chain of battle against the Russian Bear, and tonight will be a test to see if he has what it takes to be an aggressive leader.”

  Xue scratched the side of his cheek, thought for a moment and then said, “I suspect your Captain has no idea he is being evaluated, right? But, yes, I'll enjoy going with you and getting some field time.”

  “No, he has no idea his position is on the line.” I replied.

  “Be ready at 2000 hours. Now, in a few minutes the Major will take you to your tent, which you'll find hot in the summer and cold in the winter. Our chow hall serves from 0500 to 0700 for breakfast, 1100 to 1300 for lunch, and 1600 to 1800 for supper. The American food is bland without the use of hot sauce, but each day you have a choice of Chinese or American chow. Sick call starts promptly at 0700 and continues until all patients are seen.” I said.

  “I can eat either and I've not been sick often. The last time I went to sick call, I had food poisoning. Good about my quarters, because I am a bit tired from walking here. Texas isn't close.” Turning to me, he asked, “Will that be all, sir?”

  I tossed him the package of the two captured Chinese fliers and said, “Read this and tell us the important things you read. We've been ordered on a mission that pertains to them, but that's all you need to know right now. When you have a need to know, you'll be told more.”

  “Yes, sir.” Xue said, and then snapped to attention and gave me a sharp salute.

  I returned his salute and said, “We don't salute out here at all so you can give that up, and we never address anyone by ‘sir’ in the field. Actually, we wear no rank in the field, but we know who is in charge. We don't want Russian snipers to know who our officers and senior NCOs are.”

  “I fully understand.”

  I said, “Major, show our newest Captain to his quarters and point out the dining hall, post office, and latrine with shower stalls. Oh, and stop by supply and get him armed with a Bison, pistol, knife, and a couple of grenades. Keep the pistol on you at all times, except when showering, and hang it on a hook in the shower room. Again, Captain Xue, I'm glad to have you with us.”

  After they left, I grew concerned about the use of chemicals in the air. I wondered about the deaths of civilians, or even my troops that wouldn't take the threat seriously. Once the alarm went off, we had less than a minute to get our masks on. Some wouldn't carry their gear around headquarters here, but they would if I caught them without it. I'd be all over their asses. I needed to have all squad leaders and platoon commanders check for atropine as well. All of us carried two of the self injecting drug pens.

  While I'd had a chemical suit modified for Dolly, she'd not worn it much and didn't like it at all. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even sure it'd work. The mask was an oblong piece of plastic we'd molded and while it was clear, I didn't trust it to work properly. Hard to seal a mask on a dog. She even had two filters, but each time I'd put the suit and mask on her, she tried to pull the mask off. She was a smart animal, so I think when the air turns poisonous, she'll know I'm trying to help her. The last time she inhaled poison gases, I had to use atropine on her.

  At 2100, Eller, myself, and Xue were in position beside the train tracks as a half dozen men moved the rails apart about six inches on each side. Eller had placed his men and women well, but I could tell he didn't like doing this job. The train ran at almost 2130 each night, so we would hit them hard and hopefully do some damage and steal some gear. Another team had been sent to blow up a bridge over the Little Piney River after our attack.

  We all move
d far enough away that the moving train presented no danger to us when it left the tracks. We had six claymore mines, a flamethrower, and two machine-guns along if they were needed. The six mines were already placed and ready to use. Our contacts in Rolla informed us that the train was usually manned and protected by a company or less of troops, depending on what was being transported.

  Right on time, I heard the train whistle as it left the small town of Newburg, and knew it would soon be here. A few short minutes later, I saw a bright light moving toward us.

  “Everyone, lower your NVGs.” one of the Sergeants called out.

  I looked at Captain Hensley, and he looked like he was about to crap his pants. I knew right then he was no leader.

  The train neared traveling at maybe 40 MPH, and suddenly it ran off the track throwing dust and rocks high into the air as the wheels still rotated. It wobbled a few times and then fell to it's side, and I heard a horrible scream. I learned later the engineer had been crushed to death when the cab fell on him. Though on it's side, the drive wheels kept moving.

  The next car left the tracks, striking the engine, and the rest piled up behind the second car. I looked at my Captain and he'd still not moved. I waited.

  Finally, I looked at Hensley and said, “Captain, you are relieved of duty.” and then in a loud voice, I screamed, “Blow the mines, now!”

  When the mines blew the noise was loud, and guns began to pop and crack. I watched a flatcar with maybe forty men as my machine-gun began to fire, it's rat-tat-tat bringing instant death to many of the Russians. Screams were heard, with most coming from the train.