Red Sky

by Travis Tufo

  Red Sky

  ©2013 Devil Dog Press LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author or Devil Dog Press LLC.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Electronic Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Dedications: Thank you to my beta-readers, Vix Kirkpatrick, Joy Buchanan and to the first responders and men and women of the armed forces, you have my admiration and respect for all the sacrifices you endure to keep us all safe.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  “To my dearest Maria,

  This may be the last letter I send to you for a while. But don’t despair my dear; it is because my officer says the war is rounding an end and has me going on more missions to dwindle down the Germans. Although the frequent deployments take a toll on my body, it means that I am one step closer to seeing you again. That in itself gives me enough strength to push on. Any moment now I could be finishing my last act of duty and will be able to hop in a truck and drive back home. It fills my heart with joy to think that we could be so close to seeing each other once again, but this time I will be home for good. Continue to keep busy my dear and remember that I love you and miss you.

  Sincerely,

  Joseph”

  Chapter One

  Riding in the back of a jeep returning from his previous mission, Joseph read the letter aloud as he wrote it on the sheet of tattered paper he had been holding. He sat there in his blood soaked Soviet uniform with his helmet on his lap and fifteen German dog tags inside of it. His helmet was dented, scratched and had a bullet hole in it. It had the name Maria carved into it, but you could only see it if you looked hard enough through the dried blood and scratches. Joseph was a Soviet soldier who stood 6-feet and was pushing 245 pounds of solid muscle.

  He owned a farm where all he did was physical labor, making him the muscular soldier he was. He lived on his farm with his beloved wife Maria.

  Drafted into the war, he became notorious for being a skilled sniper, brutal killer, and an unmatched reconnaissance leader. He was more of a mercenary than a soldier, due to the fact that he was put into a battalion where his officer would assign him and his fellow soldiers certain missions.

  Those who survived were sent to do another until they were all dead. For this reason, Joseph met, and shortly thereafter had to bury many of his own friends. Everyone in his starting squad had died, along with the next three squads. Remarkably, he always managed to find his way back alive to his officer, who gave him his next mission with a smirk on his face. Joseph even out lived his starting officer who died in a plane that was shot down by German anti-air cannons. Due to his officer’s death, Joseph was transferred over to another battalion that functioned in a similar way.

  The commanding officer would give the soldiers their missions and hoped they returned for another. The soldiers slept in tents around their campsite in a rural area surrounded by trees.

  The sunlight never seemed to hit this campsite; it was always enshrouded in dark grey clouds covering a red sky. It was an eerie place to set up, but it worked. As for the commanding officer, he had his own personal quarters in a small building. Inside the building were two rooms, one with a desk where the officer handed out missions to his soldiers and another with a bed where he would rarely sleep.

  It was in this battalion Joseph would meet a man equally as savage as himself who would become his best friend—a man by the name of Vladimir. He was a huge man; when he stood next to Joseph; he made Joseph look like a young boy. He was close to seven feet and weighed no less than 280 pounds. Jokingly, but often in a serious way his squad mates referred to him as Vlad the Impaler because he would often de-limb and brutally mutilate German soldiers with his bayonet. For every kill Vlad had with a bullet, he had three more with his bayonet, which he called his “dear Sasha”.

  It only seemed right that these two almost inhumane brutes would become great friends and would fight for each other with their own lives at stake. Mission after mission these men would return to their officer, eagerly awaiting their next chance to kill.

  Joseph and Vladimir did everything their commanding officer assigned them, from killing multiple guards outside an enemy encampment allowing a battalion of Soviet soldiers to enter unseen, to hunting down and murdering German officers and sergeants in order to demoralize the Nazis.

  Neither of them knew the meaning of mercy, which meant gallons of blood were often spilled to complete a mission, necessary or not. They were not against killing a woman or a child if it meant they got to return to their commanding officer with the dog tags he asked for.

  The war almost became a game to them; they would see who could collect more of the metallic ID’s by killing the most men, or even who could kill the most unarmed people in a town with nothing but their bayonets. They became so notorious in their ruthless kills that their names would be in German newspapers offering rewards for their heads; later their names were in newspapers telling Germans to stay clear of them.

  Chapter Two

  Joseph only fought in this war to once again be with his wife Maria.

  After hundreds of missions and even more Germans murdered along the way, his commanding officer, Viktor, presented Joseph with the opportunity to see her again.

  The day after Joseph returned from a mission where he was ordered to track down a German medical caravan and “demobilize” every single truck, Viktor entered his tent to speak to him.

  Viktor watched as Joseph bandaged his thigh, which had received a bullet wound from a German mp40 sub machine gun.

  “Hello, Joseph. I see you have returned from your trip,” Viktor spoke in his faded, rough voice.

  He paused to cough, as he was an avid smoker. No sooner after he finished coughing he began to light up a large cigar.

  “You’re lucky that bullet only nicked your femur bone, “Viktor said with a smirk.

  He was an older man with all grey hair, his uniform always kept slick and neat. He liked being in power and always strived for his soldiers to acknowledge his superiority over them. A scar ripped through the top of his forehead down through his milky white left eye and ended in a small hook midway down his cheek.

  “Sir, don’t you have something better to do? Like go order some soldiers to kiss your ass before you send them to their death? ” Joseph asked sarcastically with a smile on his face. Ignoring the pain in his thigh, he stood up to be eye level with Viktor.

  “You better watch what you say to me, or I might have to refrain from informing you of the good news I have been waiting to tell you,” Viktor responded as he blew a huge smoke cloud into Joseph’s
face. Joseph’s eyebrows rose. He was clearly interested in what Viktor had to say.

  Ignoring the smoke he asked, “What are you talking about old man? The only time you gave me good news was the day you told me the bullet I took right in my chest wasn’t fatal.”

  “ Ahhh…yes I remember that day. Well, if you weren’t such a soft solider I wouldn’t have felt the need to tell you that you were going to be all right.” Viktor laughed and paused to cough once again. He stopped to gather his composure before continuing.

  “But seriously Joseph, I do have rather good news for you. I have thought for quite a long time now that you have done more than your fair share for the motherland. You will go down in history as a hero to the Russians and a nightmare to the Germans forever.

  Stories will be told of Joseph the Tyrant to dirty little German boys and girls before they lay down to sleep in the rubble of where their streets used to be.”

  “All right sir, I get it. Cut to the chase!” Joseph said, eagerly awaiting this news Viktor spoke of.

  “Patience is the only thing you never learned in the military. My news is that if you do one more mission for me, one simple mission that requires little to no effort for you, I will let you go. ”

  A silence filled the tent. The two men stood there, eyes locked.

  “Let me go where, sir?”

  Joseph was playing dumb, but also wondering if Viktor was going to tell him the incredible news he wanted to hear.

  “Go wherever you wish. Whether that means you stay here in this tent till you rot away, or back to this Maria girl I hear you talk of so much.”

  Viktor turned to the slit in the tent from where he entered before Joseph could reply and ducked down to exit.

  “I’ll leave the briefing on my desk tomorrow for you to look over,” Viktor called from outside as he walked towards his quarters.

  Joseph sat back down and soaked in the information he was just presented with. He looked around his tent and then to his leg as if to see if he was dreaming.

  He dug his finger into his wound, the pain helping him realize that yes indeed he was awake. Knowing he would never get to sleep, he lay down on his cot, thoughts churning.

  Chapter Three

  When the next day came he opened his tent to the same grey clouds and same red sky he had grown to know.

  He hobbled on his hurt leg past all his fellow comrades, not returning any of their greetings.

  He reached his officer’s quarters and very slowly lifted his hand to the doorknob and grasped it. As he did adrenalin filled his body. He turned the knob and opened the door, seeing no one. He wasn’t surprised though. Viktor never seemed to be around. He was always at some brothel or off trying to get more cigars.

  Joseph approached the desk one slow step at a time. He could feel and hear his breathing getting louder and harder. He saw a yellow folder that he knew contained possibly the best news he would ever receive.

  He grabbed the folder and held it in his hands for a second, thoughts of Maria and his farm rushing into his head. Taking a deep breath, he ripped it open and immediately read what it had to say.

  No one was ever excited to get a new mission. Soldiers always waited in their tents and hoped that on that day their commanding officer wouldn’t enter to hand them a dreaded yellow folder.

  But today was different for Joseph. He began to weep as he read, something he hadn’t done since he left Maria two years ago.

  He was now so close to seeing her. All he had to do was complete one last mission, one that didn’t even seem to be that much work to him. After reading through the briefing, Joseph returned to his tent where he spent the next three days resting his leg and re-reading what was inside the folder.

  “All I have to do is find one man. One man is my way to Maria,” he mumbled to himself.

  Joseph spent the next two months healing and growing to hate this “one man”.

  The man had never done anything to Joseph; they’d yet to even speak. But with every fiber of his being he despised this man.

  Joseph stopped talking to anyone other than Vladimir and Viktor. He was too preoccupied thinking of how he was going to kill this man, a German whose only job was to run a factory that produced parts used to build German planes.

  Joseph thought to himself that this one man was the entire reason he was away from Maria. He couldn’t just simply kill this man; he had to make this man suffer. Joseph became more bloodthirsty than ever before.

  Chapter Four

  Another two weeks passed before Viktor returned to Joseph’s tent.

  “It's time to go,” he said to Joseph. He immediately turned around and left.

  Joseph grabbed his bag, helmet, gun, and more importantly the picture of his wife he kept under his pillow. He followed Viktor to a German truck that had been stolen from a previous operation.

  Joseph threw his gear in the truck.

  “Do you like it? It was my idea, “a familiar voice called out as he approached the truck.

  “Vlad, are you here to see me off?”

  Joseph’s face lit up as his good friend Vlad walked up.

  “See you off? Always the jokes with you. No man, I’m here to make sure you don’t take another unnecessary bullet to that pretty face of yours.”

  “I went over the mission briefing hundreds of times and Viktor didn’t mention anything about a partner. Plus, this is one of the simplest things I’ve ever been assigned.”

  “Ah, well I see you’ve lost your touch lately. I mean you did get shot! I’m just here as some added protection. And what? You wanted to go off and finish your final assignment without me? Let me ask you something Joseph. How many times have I saved your ass?”

  “How many more times have I saved yours?” Joseph countered

  “Clearly that is beside the point. But I couldn’t let you go off and kill this man alone. This could be our last time spilling blood together. Enough of the chitchat—get in the truck.”

  Vladimir threw his equipment in the back and quickly jumped into the driver’s seat before Joseph had a chance. Joseph settled for the passenger seat.

  “You two pussies done making out over there? Get the hell out of here already!” Viktor yelled at them as he walked towards his quarters. Joseph laughed and prepared himself for a three to four day drive to Berlin, where the factory and the German man Joseph had grown to hate were.

  Chapter Five

  “So tell me Joseph. How did you manage to take a bullet to your thigh dealing with a MEDICAL caravan?” Vlad asked with a snicker as he drove off towards Berlin.

  “Do you want the whole story? Or do you want me to tell you that a German pointed a gun at me and pulled the trigger?”

  “Eh, we got time, give me the whole story.”

  “That’s the truth.

  “Well, it was Nikolai, that tall stupid man Viktor picked up from some deep part of Siberia and me. We were driving to an interception point on some hill where we would be able to see the medical caravan and its escort at a good vantage point”.

  “We got there about an hour early so we could set up. We covered ourselves in brush and pointed a rocket propelled grenade or RPG at the road where the leading escort would have to drive past. Time passed until we could finally see the Germans approaching. They were about 45 minutes late”.

  “I lined up a perfect shot and pulled the trigger. The explosion blew up only about a foot in front of the lead truck, lifting the front end and sending it crashing back down, breaking the front axle. With the front truck unable to operate, the caravan and truck behind it had nowhere to go. Germans came pouring out of the two escort trucks like a goddamn clown car to see what caused the explosion. So with stupid ass Nikolai next to me we grabbed our scoped Mosin Nagants and proceeded to slaughter the dirty rats where they stood. Shot after shot I blew men’s heads clear off their shoulders. Fifteen soldiers came rushing out of the trucks and I’d say I killed a good eight of the bastards before they even spotted our position”.


  “Once they knew where we were they started spraying us with rounds. I jumped up and ran for our truck. But stupid Nikolai just lay there and got peppered in bullets. He looked like he went through a goddamn meat grinder when they stopped firing at him. They literally severed limbs with all the bullets they put into that poor fool. He was just a pile of blood and chunks of meat afterwards. Lucky for me though he managed to kill about three Germans in his, oh I don’t know, 12 shots fired. He always was a hell of a shot.”

  “I never did like that Nikolai guy. It was like talking to a damn rock. But go on.”

  “So I was pinned down behind my truck and had four Germans slowly marching up the hill towards me. I had one grenade on me, so I pulled the pin on that bitch and hoped to hell it would get them as I chucked it over my shoulder.”

  “No way, you’re trying to tell me you killed four Nazis with one grenade?”

  “If you’d quit interrupting me, I’d let you know.”

  “Sorry, it’s just I’ve personally seen how bad you are with grenades, but go on.”

  “So I threw that bad boy right over my shoulder. It landed a good 30 feet away from them and proceeded to roll down the hill.”

  “That’s what I expected to hear,” Vlad said as his face turned into a big smile.

  “Yeah, so I lift my head over the bed of the truck to sneak a look at my failure exploding at the bottom of the hill by a tree and got right back under cover again. Then I peaked my head up one more time, popped off a few more shots with my rifle and only managed to pick off one guy with my last few rounds. Now I was out of ammo, grenades, and dumb ass partners”.