by W. R. Benton
The Fall of America
Book 3 - Enemy Within
W.R. Benton
ISBN 978-1-939812-69-8
Kindle Edition 1.01
© Copyright 2014 W.R. Benton
All Rights Reserved
Ebook Production by Loose Cannon Enterprises
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written permission of the author and/or the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Author Photos © Copyright 2012, Melanie D. Calvert
© Contents Copyright 2014 by W.R. Benton
© Cover layout & design Copyright 2014 by www.dancingfoxpublishing.com
Cover Photo by Shutterstock.com used with permission
Edited by: Daniel Williams, Bobbie La Cour, and Juanita Druyea
Books by W.R. Benton
The Fall of America, Book 3, Enemy Within
The Long Ride Home (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
The General's Wife, with Bounty Hunter Jake Masters, Book #2
War Drums (Sequel to War Paint)
The Youngest Mountain Man
Hired Gun
The Fall of America, Book 2, Fatal Encounters
The Fall of America: Book 1, Premonition of Death
Adrift (Young Adult Fiction - Survival)
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Nate Grisham, Black Mountain Man, in Renegade Trapper (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Red Runs the Plain
Fur Seekers (Co-Authored with Grady Clark)
Jake Masters: Bounty Hunter Available as an Audio Edition
Missouri in Flames, I Rode with Jesse James
War Paint Available as an Audio Edition
Bubba's Dawg Might be a Redneck (Southern Humor)
Silently Beats the Drum
James McKay, U. S. Army Scout
Alive and Alone (Young Adult Fiction – Survival) Available as Audio Edition
Simple Survival, A Family Outdoors Guide (non-fiction)
Impending Disasters (non-fiction)
Dedication
To Judy Maben, Billie Trout Patterson, Kimberly Kucera Luke, Firecracker LM, Stacie Burns, Linda Vee Sado, Lila Sue Riley, Kristie Tucker West, and Marilyn Lenaham-Fischer, all special friends on Facebook and good people.
A special dedication to Wendy Hartman, Wendy Gay, and Lynn Marie Gilleran Eisen, three caring women who are always there when I need someone to listen or to keep my spirits up.
A Note from the Author
Many folks who read “Fall of America: Premonition of Death” asked why I had shotguns as the primary weapons used by the main characters. There are a number of reasons, but the principal one is the cost of assault rifles versus shoguns. Additionally, the most commonly found long gun in American homes today is a shotgun. Shotgun empties can easily be reloaded quickly and at a much cheaper cost and ease than rifle shells. The shotgun has choke and every single time you pull the trigger, you create a cone of fire filled with lead, with different types of chokes controlling your spread. Anyone hit within the pattern of fire will feel the shot, although it may not kill your adversary, depending on shot placement and distance, along with other factors. Shotguns can also fire lead slugs, which many folks have used historically to hunt deer. Slugs have fair accuracy, but nothing like a rifle. Additionally, since I prep for survival, it just makes good horse sense to me to stick to the more commonly found weapons, because if push comes to shove, the most common ammo found following a collapse will be for these weapons. Also, a shotgun can be sawed off, which is hard to beat in clearing rooms or in close contact with an enemy.
If a fall or collapse does happen in the future, most of us will be stuck with what we have on hand, so we'll either die or survive with what we own, can steal, or take from the dead hands of our enemies. I suspect military weapons will quickly make an appearance, but only after folks have gathered together and organized to fight for freedom. I suspect, little by little, weapons will change as they're taken along with ammunition, following raids, killings, and hijacked truck convoys.
There were also some doubts a man would cry over the death of his dog and then viciously maim a man for life during an interrogation. I happen to be a man that loves my dogs dearly, which I cannot say about many people I've met. I strongly suspect, when the end comes, folks will love their pets even more than now, because animals give us unconditional love and ask nothing in return and love will be hard to find. Actually, simple kindness will disappear. Interrogations will be crude and bloody affairs and don't think they won't be. When lives may depend on information gathered, and quickly, the means will justify the end. Human life will be of little value, but knowledge of what a potential enemy may have planned will be great wealth. I, for one, will do what it takes to get information needed to protect myself and family.
WR Benton
Jackson, Mississippi
“We can't all be Washingtons, but we can all be patriots.”
—Charles F. Browne
“My God! How little do my countrymen know what precious blessings they are in possession of, and which no other people on earth enjoy!”
—Thomas Jefferson
"The government is merely a servant merely a temporary servant; it cannot be its prerogative to determine what is right and what is wrong, and decide who is a patriot and who isn't. Its function is to obey orders, not originate them."
—Mark Twain
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
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
About the Author
Excerpt from Eagle People
What is the series “The Fall of America” about?
WHAT IF IT ALL CAME CRASHING DOWN?
It started with the biggest stock market crash in history. Banks closed down under the weight of their bogus investments, and the financial sector failed. People looked to the government to make it all better. However, they couldn't. Hyper-inflation, mass unemployment and infrastructure started to breakdown. The food trucks didn't show up at the stores, and the shelves went empty.
Things turned ugly fast when there was no power for long parts of the day —then forever. Cops, doctors, and trash collectors just stopped showing up for work when the paychecks were delayed too often, or never came. Things started falling apart quickly after that. Whole regions declared a "State of Emergency" in an effort to maintain order and civility, but it wasn't always enough. Starvation, looting and murder became the norm. Then, our American civilization collapsed completely.
The Fall of America, Book 1: Premonition of Death is the beginning of a new series, about an average man who's life goes downhill fast, once society breaks down. Set in the rural south, a scorched-earth showdown with some local thugs leaves John and his wife homeless, and on t
he run. He encounters a member of a survivalist group, made up of former military personnel, and joining them may be his only hope. Just basic survival becomes vicious, resistance is at any cost, as the devastated country comes under new siege—invading Russian troops
The Fall of America, Book 2: Fatal Encounters is is the continuing the saga of the fall, John and his friends come face to face with the Russians, but unlike the first book, this time they're ready and able to offer much more resistance. The invaders try to pacify the areas of the South under their control. The American resistance groups divide their forces into small cells to better operate effectively behind enemy lines. But as their efforts begin to gain ground, the Russians respond with harsh reprisals; mass executions become the norm and prison camps soon spring up in remote small towns. “Fear brings compliance,” is their motto. The battle for control of Mississippi gets hot, and a violent world gets even more ugly.
The Fall of America, Book 3: Things are turning as the partisans get more organized and with this organization comes larger attacks on Russian targets, resulting in more civilians killed in reprisals. The partisans become better organized as the Russians become even more sadistic in their tactics. The Americans are now attacking gulags and air bases when the opportunity arises and Russian casualties mount, but there is at least one traitor or more within. Can the patriots discover the enemy within?
BOOK 3
Enemy Within
CHAPTER 1
Colonel Sokol stood in ankle deep mud on the edge of a swamp, as his radio operator stood beside him, and yelled into a handset, “Look for the Americans, you damned fool! Of course they'll not be easy to find, but intelligence said there is an old mansion deep in the swamp, so find it and do the damned job quickly. Out.” He stepped over the body of a dead American and never noticed the man's unseeing eyes or the puddle of blood under his ripped apart torso. The man had died from multiple gunshots to his chest and stomach.
Sokol was a short man with a bald head and bad teeth. He was a heavy vodka drinker and his once brilliant mind was only a shell of his previous intelligence, due to alcohol abuse. He was fat, and only five feet three inches tall, and two-hundred and fifty pounds, so he was a big man. His troops often laughed and called him 'Barn Door,' because he looked wider than he was tall. While he saw himself as a genius, in reality, he barely functioned. His assignment to Edwards, Mississippi, as the Russian anti-partisan commander, came with a warning; wipe out all resistance in the state within one year or be removed from command.
He tossed the handset to his radio man and thought, Damned fools. All Moscow sends me are drunks and fools.
“Colonel, we caught this man on one of the swamp trails.” Major Falin, his executive officer said as he neared with a partisan.
The partisan had his head lowered and his hands were secured behind his back.
“You mean to tell me after four hours all we have to show for our searching is one man?”
“So far, but we know there are many more at the mansion.”
A bright flash filled the sky and when Sokol looked up, a sharp crack of thunder was heard. Damn it, now it will rain and make it even harder to locate the partisans. But, maybe this man can lead us to the mansion.
“Uh, you speak English, don't you, Major Falin?”
“Yes, sir, I was college educated in the United States and had four years of English lessons while here. My excellent command of the English language is the main reason I was assigned to intelligence, sir.” Falin was the propaganda officer and as such, he was a good writer, and understood the psychology of Americans better than anyone else in the command. His suggestions on how to handle Americans, however, were often ignored as being too soft or lacking in sound military reasoning. He was a tall and thin man, with his brown hair worn in a crew-cut for ease of cleaning.
“Tell this bastard to take me to the mansion or he'll be tortured to death. It's important that he understands I will do exactly what I say to him if he refuses.”
“Sir, I don't think —”
“Major, you work for me, and I'm not interested in what you think. If I need your opinion, I will ask for it. Get his name and then ask him the question about the mansion.”
The Major spoke for a moment and then said, “His name is James and claims he has no last name. He also demands to be treated according to the Geneva Convention as a prisoner of war.”
“Tell him to lead us to the mansion or the torture will start in a few minutes.”
The American and Russian spoke and then Falin said, “Uh, he said go to hell and you can kiss his red, white, and blue, ass.”
Sokol slapped the prisoner hard enough he fell to the mud.
“Did you tell this Yankee bastard about the torture?”
“Yes, sir. He knows.”
“Master Sergeant Rusak, have two men tie this man to a tree and do it now.”
“Yes, sir. Corporal Babin and Junior Sergeant Shubin, secure this man to the big tree on the left.” Rusak ordered and then thought, We are doing this all wrong. Hell, it is more than likely this man has no idea where the swamp mansion is; I have heard the whole swamp is a maze of trails. A man cannot tell what he does not know. This death will just add more fuel to the flames of anger the Americans already have for us.
Once James was secured to the tree, Sokol moved to the man and pulled his bayonet. He gave an evil grin and then with a quick slash of his knife, an ear fell to the mud.
James screamed and jerked at his bonds, but he would go no place and his thrashing around splattered blood on the Colonel, Major, and Master Sergeant.
“Shubin, you and Babin, hold his legs open. I will remove his penis next.”
The two soldiers looked at Master Sergeant Rusak, who nodded.
Once his legs were pulled apart, Sokol said, “Tell this damned fool of an American, I am going to remove his penis and balls next, if he does not talk.”
James yelled, “Tell yer Russian Commander to untie me and I'll kick his ass! He's a damned coward!”
“James, you must take him to the mansion in the swamp or he will make you less of a man. He is not making an idle threat. He is most serious.”
Knowing he was a dead man, no matter what he did, James closed his eyes, raised his head and prayed, “Lord, I'll be seein' you in a short spell. I've always lived as good a life as I can. I —”
“What is he doing? Is he telling you how to get to the mansion?”
“He is praying.”
“Praying? Is he asking God to spare his life?”
“No, actually, he is letting God know he will soon be there. He knows we will kill him no matter what he does.”
The knife in the Colonel's hand flashed in the dim light and the long blade entered under James's rib cage at an upward angle, so it went in deep. A horrendous scream was heard from the captive and then Sokol jerked the knife from side to side. The scream grew louder as his whole body shuddered violently. Suddenly the scream died, a loud sigh came from James, and as his bowels emptied, he quivered, and then died. His upper body was leaning away from the tree, with blood pooling at his feet.
“These sonsofbitches never talk!” Sokol said in anger. He wiped his knife blade clean on the grasses and then ordered, “Get the men moving into the swamp and do it now!”
Corporal Babin looked at the dead American and thought, Why are we here? I see nothing here that I need or want. This war is confusing to me, but I must follow orders. I am only a Corporal and not paid for my thinking. He died bravely, but praying to God did him no good at all. There must be something about this country I do not understand. These people, these Americans, they are determined, only why?
“Vodka, you are our point man.” Master Sergeant Rusak said to Private Alvang, who detested the strong tasting alcohol, thus his nick name. “Keep your head out of your ass and you will survive the day; daydream and we will send you home in a box.”
As the men started moving, Rusak called out again, “Dvorkin, you are my dr
ag man. Let us move, and keep your eyes and ears open. Make a mistake today and some of us will die.”
The point man was understandably nervous and after a few minutes, Lieutenant Markov said, “Alvang, increase your speed. Hell, it will take us all day to cover two kilometers as slow as you're walking.”
That is easy for him to say, because it is my ass that will get blown up or shot if I overlook something. I am expendable to these bastards, the Private thought as he scanned the trail and increased his speed.
The morning passed uneventfully and it was at their noon meal when Private Konfer had to pee; he'd taken two steps from camp when his world exploded into flame and smoke. The men scattered, which resulted in another explosion, followed by a loud scream. Konfer had not made a sound since the first detonation. Then a second scream was heard and Rusak yelled, “No one move! Konfer set off a mine. Medic, check out the three men, but look for trip wires or bumps in the soil as you move.”
A thin man, actually little more than a boy, eighteen year old Private Elout moved slowly forward, scanning the ground around him. He moved to Konfer, rolled the injured man on his back and felt for a pulse on the bloody neck, “Konfer is dead. I will now check the other two men.”
When he neared the victim of the second mine, he could see the man's right leg was gone from the knee down and his right arm was mangled badly. He examined him and called out, “We need a helicopter for this man, he has suffered the loss of a leg and arm. I see some smaller injuries, but none look to be life-threatening.” He applied tourniquets and bandages to the injured man, a Private named Flits. He then shot him full of morphine and his screaming soon stopped.
“Medic! Private Gise has stepped in a stake trap and has a sharp stake through his left foot and another in the calf of his leg.” Corporal Babin said from beside the injured man.