"If we find any vehicles, why do we not hot wire them and drive away from this mess? I am sure driving would be much faster."
"Great idea, Senior Sergeant. Look for anything to allow us to leave here in a rush. Okay, saddle up, people, and let us get this job done."
Five minutes later, they were on the trail heading for the target. The Senior Sergeant refused to think about the bomb and how they might kill a million people through radiation poisoning because he was a professional soldier and followed orders.
About an hour later, the Captain, who'd been on point, stopped and said, "Well, this is nice. Beside the reactor is a small dam, which will go up when the building goes up. My map is so old it does not show the dam. It will wash away every home downstream and I am sure it will drown more than a few Americans. Filippovna, come with me, along with Private Putinov. Sergeant Desisovich, you are in charge until we return. Watch for our return and be prepared to give us protective cover fire. Once we have the bomb set, we will try to steal a truck. I see three two and one-half ton trucks near the gate."
The three men walked from the group and were quickly swallowed by the darkness. With his NVGs on, Desisovich watched the men, now green in his goggles, moving toward a chain link fence.
Minutes later, with the help of wire cutters, they were inside and lost from view quickly as they moved around the buildings.
Inside the yard of the reactor, the Senior Sergeant spotted the reactor building first and tapped the Captain on the shoulder. One guard, near the front door, was trying to stay awake, but failing as his head kept nodding. Captain Vitaliy motioned for the Sergeant to kill the guard using a knife. Filippovna pulled his razor sharp sheath knife and moved toward the guard.
When the man's eyes closed once more, the Russian moved quickly and threw an arm over the guard’s neck and squeezed hard, keeping his screams down as the big 10 inch blade pierced his kidneys four times. The man's eyes were so huge, the sergeant thought they'd pop from their sockets any second. Finally, the man went limp so the Sergeant ran the sharp blade over his throat, slicing flesh to the bone. He dropped the dead man and motioned for the other two men to come, and now.
The Captain moved to the front door of the reactor and entered. As they walked down the tiled floor in the hallway to the bay that held the reactor, Danya Filippovna was getting nervous. Things were going too smoothly for them. They then entered the bay and as two of them provided security, the Captain placed the suitcase bomb in the middle of the room, hidden by a console and hundreds of pipes. Then, he opened the case, typed in X1003Mp and then smiled knowing the bomb was now programmed to explode in 30 minutes. He then closed the case, pushed it back in the hiding place and moved to the Sergeant and Private Putinov.
"Let us go get a truck and get the hell out of here. We have exactly 30 minutes to get far enough away that the blast does not kill us. Move now." the Captain said.
As they left the building, an old American .30 caliber machine gun in a tower started to fire as the spotlight on the raised structure lit up the Captain. The man seemed to dance as the bullets stitched him up the middle and then blew his head off. He was dead in an instant.
The other two Russians fired at the light, watched it go out and then ignored the other lights that were searching for them too. Firing a single shot, the Senior Sergeant knocked all but one tower light out, by hitting the correct transformer. Then they ran for the trucks.
As the Sergeant attempted to hot wire a truck, the Private exchanged fire with other guards, who were fully aware they were under an open attack now. When four men ran from a nearby building, Private Putinov fired on fully automatic and knocked them down. It was then the truck roared into life.
"Get in, and now!" Filippovna yelled.
Sitting in the seat, the Sergeant looked the gauges over closely and while all the words were in English, he had no problems. He quickly moved the gear selector on the stirring column to reverse and just as he started backing up, Private Putinov jumped in, and slammed his door closed.
The Sergeant drove toward the downed Captain and once at his location, he stopped and tossed his body in the cargo hold of the truck. He then moved for the front gate, hitting it at well over 45 and punched right through it, just like it was butter. A half a mile down the road he spotted his men from the squad waiting for him.
He pulled over and yelled, " Get in the back!'
"I am wounded." Putinov said with a surprised voice.
"Bad or lightly?" the Sergeant asked.
"Flesh wound to my belly. Looks like a bullet burned a furrow on my belly skin. Why did I not feel that?"
"Your adrenaline was running hard. I once saw a man with a fatal injury run for four miles. When we stopped to see who was killed and hurt, he fell over, dead as hell."
"We are all in!" someone in the back called out.
Placing the truck in first gear, the Sergeant moved down the road as quickly as the governor on the engine would allow. Top speed was only 55, but Filippovna kept it floored.
Twenty minutes later, as they drove along a dark macadam road the horizon behind them was suddenly lighted up. There was a loud boom, followed minutes later by severe shock waves that bounced the truck all over the roadway. The light was still there, so most of them watched the mushroom cloud develop over the now wasted reactor. Then, there was a loud snap and all knew the dam had just busted too.
The Senior Sergeant didn't slow down, but kept them at full speed. He'd stay in the truck until it ran out of gas.
Ten miles later, a check point was sighted. The place was well lighted and since his English was better than good, the Sergeant stopped when a soldier holding a stop sign in his hand stepped from his guard shack. Off to the left was a Chinese 99A tank, a good armored weapon, but it looked to be unmanned.
When he stopped, the guard asked, "Name and unit?"
"Mark Thomas and the 33rd Supply Company. We do the early morning deliveries. Any idea what that bright flash of light was a few minutes ago?"
"Papers too. No, but if I didn't know better I would think the nuclear reactor exploded, but that's foolishness on my part."
"I don't have any papers," the Sergeant said, "but I do have this."
When the guard looked up, he was facing the barrel of a Makarov PL-15 (Russian) .380 pistol. Filippovna fired twice and the guard dropped instantly with the back of his head splattered against the guard shack.
Revving up the truck, he ran through the barrier that was lowered and moved off with the accelerator floored. A few stray shots were fired at them, but none came close. In seconds he was no longer seen due to the darkness.
Chapter 11
John and Joy settled into their seats and fastened their seat belts. Both were tired, but happy they'd been able to establish peace and the war was over. While both knew it would take at least a week for the word to reach all partisan and Russian units, the treaty had been signed. They'd not had any more attempted hits on them, so they assumed the killings had been called off the minute the treaty was signed, but unknown to them, that was not true.
Hearing a series of chimes over the intercom, he looked up and said, "The fasten seat belt and no smoking sign is on."
Joy snuggled up close to him and said, "I'm ready to go. I am so pleased the war with Russia is over."
"I am too. Do you see the big man in front of us, center seats, with a cowboy hat on?"
"What about him?"
"He keeps looking at us, or that's my feeling anyway."
"I'd not worry about him, we're armed well."
"That's true. Help me keep an eye on him. Damn me, I need to pee all of a sudden."
"Can you hold it until we are airborne?" she asked and wanted to laugh, because she'd had that urge many times and most were at inconvenient times.
"I think so."
"I told you not to drink so much coffee at breakfast. You must have had six cups."
"Only five. I've not had any real coffee for years. I have fifteen po
unds of coffee and five quarts of excellent bourbon in my suitcase as gifts."
"I have the same, and some perfumes for my lady friends. It'll be so nice to be a lady again and look the part."
"Joy, you'll always be a beautiful woman. See, he's checking us out right now."
"I see him. What do you suggest?"
"We sit tight until he makes a move for us."
Joy reached inside her coat and slipped the safety off her pistol.
They pulled to the end of the runway and the pilot said, using the intercom, "Attendants, to your seats, and prepare for takeoff. Ladies and gentlemen, the tower has given approval for us to take off next. We will be flying at 25,000 feet on this trip and should land in New York, barring any problems, at 0800 local time. Okay, we just got take off approval. Remember, we suggest you keep your seat belts on at all times, to avoid injury in rough air. Crew to your assigned take off seats."
The aircraft turned onto the runway and the pilot applied power, let go of the brakes, and down the long stretch of concrete they moved.
Then, unexpectedly, the nose rose and the wheels began to move. The whirling sound the wheels moving was followed by a thump as they moved into the wheel wells. The angle of climbing was increased, and while steep, it was not overly so. Then, they slowly banked toward the east and over the ocean as they climbed.
John smiled. The peace he'd prayed for was reality now, and while they'd probably have to fight a Civil War with different political groups before they found real honest to God peace, it was a step in the right direction. Then a thought hit him.
Joy now had her head on his shoulder.
"This peace treaty will be nice. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, sweetheart, anything."
"Will you marry me?"
Her head shot from his shoulder and she turned to meet his eyes.
"You serious?"
"Yes, ma'am. I love you and you know that. With peace coming I think we can join together and help our country grow as a team."
"John, I won't answer you right now. My first thought is, yes, of course, but marriage is a serious step."
"I . . . understand." John replied, his heart crushed.
"John, I can see the hurt in your eyes and that is not my intent. Let's wait a bit and see how the states deal with the peace treaty is all. I don't want to commit to a marriage and then we end up fighting each other for years."
"It's okay, but I am hurt. I should have thought of the coming fight before I asked."
"Once America settles down and we're moving toward being normal, I'd be proud to be your wife. That man is looking at us again."
“I need to use the bathroom.” John said and stood. He then made his way to the men's room in the rear of the aircraft. No sooner had he left than the man watching them stood, moved to Joy, and then sat down.
He said, "In New York we have word that the two of you will be killed. I am along to make sure nothing happens on the way there. I'm an unofficial guard for you and I work for Desmond, in Paris. There is another one of us on board, but you don't need to know who he or she is. Try to stay where I can see you and I'll help anyway I can to keep you two safe. My name is Loupe, which is French, but I am an American citizen."
"CIA?"
"Yes, of course. I must go now and return to my seat." he stood and then moved to his seat.
When John returned, Joy said, "Our man up front visited me while you were gone. He's with the CIA and Desmond sent him to guard us because they think we'll be hit in New York. There is another guard on the plane, but he wouldn't tell me who they were."
"Desmond, huh? He's a good man. Okay, we'll not worry about the man then. Did the man give you a name?"
"Loupe, he said."
"Okay, Loupe, I'm glad to have you with us." John said in a voice just above a whisper.
The flight was uneventful but long. John was glad when they landed and taxied to the terminal and they'd not been attacked. He was smiling as they got off the airplane. He'd had two beers about an hour before and just before leaving the secure area he had to pee. He left his bags with Joy and entered the men's room.
Not many flew these days and most people were trying to get enough to eat. Only the most wealthy could afford a plane ticket. As he stood there, emptying his bladder, he closed his eyes and moaned with relief, only to feel something sharp in his back.
A voice said, "Well, General, I never killed a man with as much rank as you have before, so you are my first.” John raised his right foot and then stomped the man's foot behind him as he turned and gave his throat two hard punches. As the man dropped, he let him land and then stomped him twice in the throat again. Blood was running from his throat as he felt for his pistol. John and the assassin went for their guns, but the General was faster and pulled the trigger twice, striking the man in the center of his chest. He then moved the body into an empty stall and stuck his head in the toilet and the rest of his body up-side-down. Locking the door, he crawled out from under the door and made his way to Joy.
"I just heard two gunshots."
"I just killed a hit man in there. Where was our Loupe at this time? I needed him in there."
"He's standing off your right near the coffee shop."
"I see him. The guy surprised me in there."
"We're to meet a white Limo outside and they're holding a sign for Mr and Mrs Frank Woods."
"How do you know that?"
"I got a phone call from Desmond just before you walked out the door. If you hadn't come out when you did, I was going in there."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I love you, John, so I will do what it takes to keep you safe, including visiting a men's room to look for you."
Taking her hand he said, "Well, that's good to know. Let's collect our bags and meet our limo."
Ten minutes later, bags in hand and Loupe following them, they found the limo and entered. When the Frenchman walked by the door, Joy saw him nod.
"My name is Slim, because I'm so big, and I'm your driver. I’m CIA and I'm to take you both to your hotel. You will spend the night and catch a 0800 flight out of here for Texas in the morning." Slim said. He was about 300 pounds and was a big black man constantly wearing a smile. John liked him immediately.
"How is security setup at the hotel?" John asked.
"One guard in the hall and another in your rooms. You have a suite on the 19th floor and we even have a man riding the elevator. There are many of us that look like employees of the hotel, but they work for the Company. You're being well protected and when you get in the room and relax, you have a message to call your Headquarters and speak to your boss."
"I'll do that. Is the phone secured?"
"Yes, and the language is scrambled until the very end of the line and then it is transmitted in a regular manner. Other than a slight delay in the conversation, you'd never know the phone was different."
"Anything else I need to know?"
"No, not really. Oh, yeah, you are to use room service and not leave the suite to eat, in case someone is waiting for you. So, your meals can be had there and any other needs you may have. You have one suite, which I hope is okay."
"That's great with me, Slim." Joy said, and then laughed.
"Why the laugh?" John asked as he met her eyes.
"I have plans for the evening."
"Remember, we have a guard in the living room." John said grinning.
"Yes, I know, but I can close the bedroom door and then use you."
Slim stopped laughing and said, "Ain't nobody gonna get in with a guard by the door and one in the living room, for sure not the bedroom. You two have a great time this evening and I'll be around at 0630 hours to pick you up. That will give you enough time to get through security before your flight."
John kissed Joy quickly on the lips and then grinned.
"Here ya are, the Baccarat Hotel, New York, and while a bit pricey at $683 a night, it's very comfortable. Enjoy, and I'll see you in the morning
at 0630 at the front door. Leave your bags, they'll be taken care of."
"Okay, have a great day."
"I'll take care of our bags." John said.
They got out of the limo and John had two men carry their three bags to the front desk. He then tipped them five dollars each.
"Why is New York almost back to usual?" he asked the clerk at the front desk.
"Even during the worst of times, we've had hotels and restaurants open, because the police strictly enforced the laws in parts of the city. The cops don't belong to any station and are freelancers. They administer justice on site most of the time and none of our criminals ever see the inside of a jail cell. We send no one to jail and you're either executed on the spot or released."
"Must work well." Joy said.
"Keeps the repeat offenders out of the area. No one commits a crime here unless they are fools. I suspect they kill about one crook a night here. Some they hang and others are gunned down. We're under Russian rule now, but I've not seen a Russian in over four years. They are a smart people."
"What's this I hear about the war being over?" John asked.
"No facts yet, and it's just a rumor."
"Okay, I am Joh—"
"I know who you are, sir. I work with Desmond at times and we have the same employer. You, sir, have the best suite in the hotel. Room on the top floor, number 19-01. In case of emergency do not use the stairs or elevator. There is a slide just outside your door that will take you to an exit behind our front bar. Once there, exit the building and stay out until emergency crews tell you it's safe to enter again.”
Two men appeared out of nowhere and placed the bags on a dolly and off to the room they went. The elevator ride was great, with the outer wall being safety glass and they could see most of the city from inside. Joy was a little frightened but John thought the view was similar to a parachute drop after the canopy deployed. He loved it.
The Fall of America | Book 10 | No Winners Page 12