by W. R. Benton
“What is the fatality rate if untreated?” the Acting Wing Commander asked.
“Left untreated, oh, we would probably lose around 62%, if we are speaking of the malignant-type of smallpox, or with other types of pox it depends on the physical health of the individual. With Hemorrhagic smallpox, it is usually fatal. However, the folks in the hospital now have the ordinary type and the fatality rate for it is around 62% as well, if left untreated. We can prevent and treat the illness, but not cure it. Most doctors suggest using the drug cidofovir, but it has to be given with an IV. Then the patient has to be closely watched because the medication can cause liver failure. Our best bet is to use the shot to prevent it to start with.”
“If I have the disease and get the shot early enough, let us say within the first week, will it help me any?” the Chief of Base Security asked.
“If given within three days of the illness starting, an inoculation can lessen the impact of the disease a great deal. If the shot is at the seven day mark from the beginning of the sickness or less, it will lessen the disease a little. I have 10,000 vials of the medication due in any day now.”
“I wonder how many of our men or women have both illnesses in their systems right now and have no idea?” the Chief Fire Marshal said.
“I would guess at around 70% or so.” the surgeon replied. “Since smallpox is highly contagious and transmitted by inhaling the variola major virus, and since our troops live and work very close together, this issue will become epidemic to us within 30 days. I suspect within 30 days, our army will grind to a stop. They can fight with an STD, but not with smallpox.”
“In the meantime, I will talk with Moscow and have additional troops that have been vaccinated sent over to provide security.” the base commander said. “Then, once we are back on our feet as a unit, they can return home. Now, Intelligence?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Find out if you can, if the partisans are responsible for either of these illness in some way. Now, let us finish this meeting and get back to work.”
The day was quiet, or it had been so far, so this evening the Russians expected the same thing. The partisans with me were ordered to attack the base to check their reaction times and how they responded. I figured it would be an excellent time to destroy some aircraft and kill a few of my enemies. I planned the attack for a few minutes after midnight.
We spent the day counting aircraft, vehicles, anything the Russians had to bring to the states. I hoped over time to destroy a lot of their trucks, tanks, and aircraft. Tonight was an attack to really just get a feel for their readiness. I had no idea half the base was down with smallpox, or I would have hit them with every person I had.
The base was a normal airfield, except it had two fences around the place, and in the middle of the wire walked a dog handler and his dog. I saw two dogs and both were German Shepherds, and they're a noble animal in my eyes. I knew killing them tonight would be the hardest part of the attack, so I gave the job to Andy. We would then cut the wire, enter, and then divide into three groups. One group would be sent to raise hell in the Russian living area, another group toward all oil and fuel tanks, and then the group I led, toward the airfield.
Until midnight, we'd all kept to the trees, ate cold rations and tried to sleep. Our biggest issue was not to be seen, so everyone was ordered to stay in the trees all day. At 2315, I had my sappers move forward and cut the wire to the fences. We were to enter 10 people at a time.
I was soon on the other side of the fence when I heard the dog team coming. Andy waited until the dog was close to the hole in the fence and the soldier was reaching for his radio before he fired his silencer equipped sniper rifle. My man shot twice and I watched both the soldier and the dog fall. The next group through the fence brought both the dog and dead man with them. As we moved toward our targets, Andy waited near the fence for the next dog team. He rolled the body of the man and dog into a ditch beside him.
I expected the loud sirens that indicated the base was under attack to sound any second, but long minutes passed without a sound. We were less than fifty feet from the runway before the high pitch warbling sound of the sirens was heard.
Each of my troops carried an explosive charge filled with nuts, bolts, rocks and broken glass mixed in a canvas bag of C-4. All they had to do was pull the fuse to ignite and toss the charge. It would explode about 3 seconds later. I began to hear explosions and the sound was music to my ears. Then across the base I heard an earth shattering boom and watched a huge fireball moving for the sky. The main POL facility had just gone up. With their Petroleum, Oil and other Liquids going up in flames, I knew they'd be hard pressed to resume a regular flying schedule any time soon. I unknowingly smiled.
Tracers of all colors began to zigzag in front of me and when one hit the concrete of the flight line, it made a loud “pee-zing,” and the colorful round would suddenly change its visual direction. A Russian worker dressed in blue overalls suddenly rounded the tail of a chopper with a gun in his hand. I pointed my Bison at him and squeezed the trigger. The bullets struck him in the left knee and went all the way up to his right shoulder. He was dead and almost cut in half before he realized he'd been shot.
Fires were all around me now and explosions were starting to go off as fuel tanks and munitions on aircraft exploded. I saw one of my men toss his explosives charge into a hanger where a fuel truck was refueling an aircraft and the resulting explosion knocked me off my feet. My soldier disappeared and the resulting fireball was huge. Giant balls of black oily smoke rose to the sky as maintenance men engulfed in flames staggered from the fire. The Russians aflame would have looked comical if not for the fact they were burning to death. We reached about the halfway mark on the flight-line when a dozen big deuce and a half trucks arrived and began to unload Russian soldiers. I blew my whistle to withdraw.
As we pulled back to the fence, I saw the Russian infantry moving toward us, but they seemed to lack the desire to catch us, or perhaps they were fatigued. We broke into a jog and quickly outdistanced them. I knew something was wrong with them but had no idea what it could be. I started thinking maybe we'd be hit from the air as the Russian infantry didn't want to get to close, but I heard nothing flying overhead, which was strange too.
While we pulled back to the fence, so were those attacking the barracks and POL. The base was in flames from one side to the other.
Andy yelled, “Tank!”
A T-90 rolled to a stop and the cannon fired, striking the fence, and blowing a much bigger hole for us to exit through. The machine gun on the tank began to rat-tat-tat and people began to fall. Suddenly a flamethrower lit up the night and screams were heard coming from the tank. I figured the tank crew was safe from the fire, but it must have scared the hell out of them. I watched two of my people near the tank and jam their explosives between the treads and fenders. They pulled the fuses and ran like the Devil was on their asses. Just as they cleared the tank, a shoulder launched missile struck it in the ass and it was a killer. Smoke and flames came from the destroyed motor.
The hatch on the turret opened and a man exited, only to be chopped to pieces by small arms fire. The driver was half out when the fuel tank went up with a huge blast. I actually saw the force of the blast tear him in half. All around me we could see as clearly as daytime.
“Move it! Get through the fence and now!” I yelled to be heard over the noises.
I stayed beside Andy as we hurried folks through the fence. As my people moved through the opening, I stuck an Ace of Spades card in the dead dog handler’s mouth. Other cards had been left on the base too. I wanted them to know who'd attacked them.
As the last man left the airfield, I wonder about the slow zombie-like movements of the Russian soldiers. Something was wrong with them, and they didn't follow us to the fence either. They fought us until they saw we were leaving and then stopped, which was unlike them.
About a week to ten days after we left the bombed out Russian base camp, Carter,
a Sergeant Medic I had caring for the injured came to see me. I had a mission going on this night and it was to be a big one. We were to hit the Russian base in Seattle again. It was a probe and feel attack to check their readiness again. He only stayed long enough to remind me not to rip the stitches open on my arm, or he'd staple it closed the next time and with no local. For me, it was a great chance to hurt the Russians once more and to blow some of their property to hell and back. Cynthia hadn't come to see me since she said goodbye and stormed out of my life, so I had nothing else to do.
About an hour later, there was a knock on my door.
“Enter.”
“Sir, I need to speak with you again.” He said as soon as our salutes were done. I wasn't one to force salutes, not like some officers, because I felt as partisans we were pretty much equal. However, if saluted, I returned it with the best of my ability.
“Have a seat, Sergeant; tell me what's on your mind.” I said after he reported. I could tell this was more important than my stitches.
“Thank you, sir.”
He sat in my chair as I sat on my cot.
“Now, what brings you to see me today?”
“Sir, I have a number of ill soldiers and they appear to have Variola major.”
“I've never heard of it, so should I be concerned?” I asked, not sure what in the hell it was. I smiled at him.
“Uh, you may know it as smallpox.”
“Jesus. It killed hundreds of thousands in the dark ages.”
“It may do the same here and now. I have no way to treat this, and our only doctor was killed when the Russians attacked our base camp a while back.”
“Birdie!” I yelled, seeing him working at his desk.
“Yo, sir?”
“Contact base and let them know we have smallpox here and I need the vaccine and three doctors. I need both in place ASAP.”
“Will do, sir.”
“We already have men dying and there will be more. At first, I thought they had the measles or I would have reported it earlier.”
“It's okay, after all, you're no doctor. I'll speak with base and we'll see what we can do. In the meantime, you are in charge of them and I want you to prepare me a list of what you'll need to treat them.”
Soon most Russian activities on and off the base ceased due to the illness. Troops could no longer be placed in the hospital because it was filled. Then schools, recreation centers, meeting halls and any large buildings were used to house the ill. Men and women with high fevers were providing guard duty and cooking soups for the sick. While it would have been an excellent time for the partisans to attack, we had sick folks now as well, but the Russians didn't know this.
Some of the older Russians had taken an inoculation as kids, so they were not affected by the disease. Each day the numbers of dead were given at stand up and they were growing more and more as troops died in their own blood from a disease that killed ruthlessly.
They'd taken to burning the bodies of those who died and all they owned except weapons, and they were sealed in metal boxes and labeled as dangerous/hazardous material. They were then sent back to Russia where they were cleaned in a laboratory established to do nothing but clean contaminated guns from America. Some of the weapons were brought in with radioactive particles on them from the state of Mississippi and others were brought in from Washington, contaminated with smallpox. Very few people worked in the large airtight building.
In the Commander’s office his phone rang and he answered it, since his receptionist had died three days before.
“Base Commander’s Office, Major Gennadiyevich speaking; how may I help you?”
“Rusya, General Josef Svyatoslavovich here. What is this I hear of smallpox at your place?”
He'd been feeling sick this morning and now he was uncomfortable speaking with the General known as “Gulag” Svyatoslavovich. The Major said, “It is true, sir. I have about 60% of my base down with the disease and more die each day.”
“Can you not do anything to combat the spreading of the illness?”
“I have my medical teams doing all they can, sir. My head of the hospital, a young Captain, told me this morning they expect to lose almost 70% of my personnel to the illness before this is over.”
“I thought the hospital Commander was a Colonel.”
“The Captain is my senior medical man still alive, sir. My Colonel died well over a week back.”
“I see. I will check around and have anything you have requested rushed to your base.”
“Make sure any troops that show here have been inoculated against the illness or they do me no good, sir. Out of the last fifty troops I got, only six are still alive. The others contracted smallpox and are dead.”
“Yes, yes, I understand. I will see what I can do for you. Goodbye.”
Placing the handset back in the cradle, the Major stood, poured himself a drink and noticed it was 0523, and he was drinking already. He took a gulp and enjoyed the way the strong vodka burned all the way to his stomach.
He sat in his chair and thought, What will they do to me when I return home? Will I be treated as a hero or placed in front of a concrete wall and shot? I have done all I can here and with the best of my ability, too. Those lard-ass Generals we have, most have never seen a combat zone, yet they send us orders each day on how to fight a war in the country they have never visited. They have no more of an idea how to fight this war than my wife does. Maybe I should take my pistol out and blow my head off. No, that would just please my enemies. When I return, I will be forced to retire, so let us hope it is done with full military honors. It is hard to believe 30 years have passed so quickly, but they have.
Knocking back the remainder of his drink, he poured another one. He'd drink until he passed out and would be discovered by a security policeman making his rounds, near noon.
Chapter 17
I was sore from falling asleep at my desk as I did paperwork. The last three nights I'd stayed late, catching up on paperwork, and fallen asleep at my desk. I'd close my eyes for a few seconds to rest them and before I could pronounce my name, I'd be sleeping. I glanced at my watch and saw it was 0100. I stood, took a drink of water from my canteen, and moved for my bed.
Suddenly, Dolly growled and looked toward the wooden door of my tent.
Don't let it be some crazy fool after the one million dollars. If so, I'll have to kill them and I dislike doing that with my own people. People are so greedy, I thought as I slipped the safety off my pistol.
The door opened and in stepped Cynthia. She smiled and said, “It's cold in my tent; I saw your light on, so I came over here to warm up.”
“Come in; we need to talk. I've missed you.” I said, and pulled my sleeping bag open.
Over the next month things were rough and we burned a lot of bodies. I found many of my cells almost wiped out by smallpox. While the Chinese dropped vials of serum and we inoculated all our people, for some it was too little too late. When it was all said and done, I'd lost about 30% of my fighting force, and they were mainly young men and women.
One morning I was dressing for a mission and learned of a roadblock on the way to where we were to take out a supply warehouse. The military often has supplies stored off base in secured buildings or bunkers and some are guarded and some not. All are locked, and in different ways too. Some may have padlocks and others will look like a bank vault, with tumblers and all. Every storage area will be surrounded with a tall seven foot fence with razor wire on top and security cameras.
It was misting now, like the Northwest often does in the winter. It seemed to me all it did here was rain, snow, or mist. I hate a cold rain, because nothing keeps me warm but wool, and I'm allergic to the blamed stuff. I break out in a rash that itches. I had to place a layer of cotton under the wool to wear it, which I did, because even when wet wool insulates well.
Soon, twelve of us were walking near a trail that would take us to the storage area. We never walked on a trail if we could avoid
it, because of mines and booby traps. The Russians had learned that fact too, but at times I'd caught them on a trail. So far we'd only had to avoid two mines, which was few. I planted some behind us as as we moved.
The storage area I wanted to hit was isolated but had cameras, hardened bunkers, and steel doors. I had no idea what was stored there, but usually I'd find rations, ammunition, guns, and everything except chemicals or fuels. At times, according to Andy, who'd been here a good ten years, the Russians would post a guard or two. Guards were no problem.
My biggest concern was did they have a security system installed and where was it located. I wasn't worried too much about that either, because this place was remote and it'd take a helicopter a good twenty minutes to get here. By that time we'd be long gone, if things went right. I hoped it had foods in big cans, because rations were getting old. I wanted a thick juicy steak, only my last one was over three years ago and it was venison.
We walked the whole day without any problems, except I was tired at about dusk. I was fine for about eight hours, then the pack became very heavy. Most partisans my age were not out actively fighting anyway, but in camp helping in a variety of ways. I figured I had five more years, then I'd remain behind. Running with a cell was rough on anyone over 40 years old.
The evening was quiet too, and by looking at my map I could see we'd be there in about an hour, just as the sun came up. Normally, I'd hit a place like that at night, but this one was so remote I didn't think it mattered. There were no other structures closer than five miles.
The next morning we were there early, and I circled the place twice. I saw nothing out of place and no guards. We had two ATVs with trailers hooked up, a horse, and two bicycles. I hoped to use them to carry the valuable loot we'd find once among the supplies. It was really hard to say what we'd find here.