by W. R. Benton
After speaking with all three of the gulag escapees, John said, “If I had the men, I'd hit the damned concentration camp tonight. Feed the escapees and make sure they've all the gear they'll need to stay with us.” As it was, he was thankful to still be alive. The Russians, who'd almost walked into their camp the night before, had suddenly turned and moved off in a different direction. All the while his shaking hands were holding the clacker to a Claymore mine.
“They pretty much have what they need, but we did give them additional ammo, more grenades, and fed them some MRE's. While they had some Russian rations, none of them liked the taste.”
“The fat content is too high for them, or it was for me at first. But, after the cold weather hits, they'll start to like them, because our bodies crave fat in cold weather. Now, get everyone saddled up and let's move.”
Mark and his small group had a difficult time keeping up with the resistance members, because they'd gone two nights with little sleep. They were constantly reminded of the need to keep moving and while exhausted, they just managed to remain with the group. Near dark they entered an abandoned farm house to spend the night.
“I want all the wood we'll need for the night gathered up now and after full dark, no one goes outside. Some of the choppers the Russians have can see at night, using infrared gear, so we'll stay under cover after dark. It you have go to the bathroom later, do it upstairs, or you guys can pee out a window. The infrared gear picks up body heat, so stay inside.”
As everyone settled in for the night, John sat in a corner of the living room, petting Dolly absentmindedly. His thoughts were on the traitor and who it could be. His mind began to see the faces of all of them, one-at-a-time, as he evaluated each. When he finished, the only people he was sure about were those in his cell and Willy. Everyone else was suspect.
Then again, he thought, how well do I know the members of this cell? Even Tom and Sandra were gone long enough to have been captured and persuaded to work for the Russians. Right after we attacked the Russian Air Base the two of them were left for dead. But, I'm sure it couldn't be one of them. I've known Tom longer than I have Sandra and I'm positive they're not the ones. All I really know is it's someone within Willy's inner circle.
Sandra neared, tossed an MRE to him and said, “Eat.”
He opened it, pulled out the entree, and began eating. When he was half finished, he pulled a knife and sliced the pouch open, placing it beside Dolly. While she didn't care much for the meals, she ate them when given no choice. John always shared his meals with his dog and she was the last of many dogs he used to own, the rest killed a while back.
Esom appeared and said, “Margie, who's outside, claims all is quiet.”
“Is she under the blankets?”
“She is, and bitchin' about the heat, too. I told her it beat being dead and that's what would happen if a chopper flew over and picked up her body heat on IR.” He squatted beside John.
“She'll do the job. I suggest anyone that has guard duty later to get some sleep now. The new people will be allowed to sleep this whole night, because they've gone over 50 hours with no sleep.”
“They'll be lucky if they sleep four hours. I've been without sleep for long stretches and when I was able to sleep, I couldn't. They'll likely sleep, wake up, and then do it all over again.”
“I've been there, but right now, I need some rest. Wake me if anything happens I need to know about.”
“I've already briefed each guard. G'night and sleep well.” Esom said, stood and then moved to the far corner where he had his gear.
It was right at dawn, as they cooked breakfast that Tom entered and said, “I just watched what looks like a company of Russian troops unloaded in a field, oh, maybe a half mile from here. Most arrived by truck, but others came by helicopter. They are to the North of us and it looked to me like they were heading this way.”
John stood and said, “Alright, y'all heard the man. Let's get ready to move. Esom, booby-trap the front door and the stairs. Once you're done, move south and catch up with us. Saddle up, we're moving.”
“What about my breakfast?” May asked.
“Eat on the move or go hungry. You for sure don't want to return to the gulag, do you?”
“No, of course not.” She then lifted her Russian pack and prepared to leave. As she moved toward the back door, she was seen spooning stew into her mouth.
“Tom, plant a few toe poppers and mines near the steps and then haul ass to meet us. I don't like this sudden appearance of Russian Troops.”
“I hear you, and I don't like it either. It's almost as if they know where we're goin' as soon as we do.”
John moved his cell South and had Margie on point and Sandra on drag. They were moving through a thick forest of oaks, when Tom and Esom returned. Tom said, “I hung back just long enough to verify it was a company of men.”
A loud explosion was heard, then what sounded like two shotgun blasts, and John said, “We just killed a few or injured them. Now, I want both of you to drop back behind Sandra and plant a few toe-poppers and mines. Don't use very many, but as Tom plants them, Esom, you provide security for him.”
“We can do this. Let's go, Esom.” Tom replied and then moved toward the rear.
The men had just left when Margie stopped, turned and returned to the group. She said, “I spotted movement about fifty yards in front of us.”
“How in the hell could they know which direction we're moving? Margie, swing east for a while. It may be they got lucky and guessed.”
After walking east for about a mile, Esom and Tom returned. Tom said “Russians all over the place back there and they're hot on our tail.”
“Now, you mean?”
“Yes, now. It's like they know which direction you're moving.”
“That's not possible, or is it?”
“Not unless they have a bird in the air that is monitoring us some way or one of us has a plant.”
“Plant?” Esom asked.
“A tracking device, something like they used to do with bear and deer before the fall. They'd tag 'em and then attach a collar with a signaling device so they could tell where the animal went.”
“Sumbitch, John, that means one of us is a traitor.”
“But, which one?”
“Shit.” Tom said.
“What's the matter?”
Tom bent over and from the grasses he picked up a small container about the size of marble. It had a very small flashing red light and rest of the case was fully inclosed, making it waterproof. The bug was an olive drab in color. “Here is your bug.”
John slipped it in his shirt pocket and then asked, “How many people have moved ahead of us?”
“All, including Sandra, so any one of us could have dropped the bug, if that's what you're thinking, including you.”
“Valid point. There's a river about a half a mile from here and I'll dump the bug there. Let's catch up with our people, but keep an eye on everyone.” As they began to move, he said, “The only people I trust right now are the new people we picked up.”
“Why not suspect them too?”
“Because the Russians knew we were at the Mansion in the swamp. I don't think they could tell exactly where we were, but they sure as hell moved to the swamp fast enough. In the past, as I think back, I can see where the Russians popped up without a good reason. Take the time I shot down the first chopper with a LAW. There was no way in hell they should have arrived in a remote spot like that when they did.”
“I don't know and haven't given it much thought. In the swamp, it may be that, once in the old place, the signal was too weak. But, you're right. There have been times the Russians have turned up when they shouldn't have. I just figured they got lucky.” Tom said.
“Tom, that doesn't matter. When we find this traitor, they'll die and I don't give a shit who it is or the reason they sold out to the Russians.”
“You need to think on what you're saying closely, John. I ain't got an idea
who it is, but it could be any one of us. Do you honestly think you could execute me, Mollie, or Sandra?” Tom asked as he gazed into John's eyes.
“I'd not like doing it, Tom, and you know that, but I would, yes.” John never blinked as he spoke more, “After all the dead folks we left in the swamp alone, it would justify the execution, but death is the only option. Hell, we don't have a prison.”
“There's the river and our group is already on the other side.” Esom pointed out.
“Go on across. I'm going to tie this bug onto a log and let it move with the current. This should really mess the Russians up.”
Once on the other side of the river, John switched directions and they moved north the rest of the day, seeing no sign of Russians.
That evening over supper, John didn't bring up the bug. He did scan each face and found it hard to believe one of them was a traitor. Supper was a mix of MRE's and Russian rations, which the old timers didn't mind at all, but he made sure May got an MRE. Dolly lay at John's side and he stroked her ear.
It was just after supper, with the fire out, when Dolly began to growl and her hackles came up. John looked, saw nothing in the darkness, but finally said, “Tom, take Esom and circle camp and check for security. Take Dolly too, she'll be a big help.”
“Sure, we can check the area.” Tom said and took Dolly's leash.
“Go with Tom, Dolly.”
Esom smiled and the two men with the dog walked into the darkness.
“Everyone awake and alert until they get back and that means lock and load.”
Suddenly, the night air lit up with green and red tracers from all directions. Screams were heard, followed by a loud explosion. Gunshots filled the night air and then four small explosions were heard—then silence.
“John, I need your help! Esom has taken a round. I'm at your one o'clock position, so just walk out now. The way is clear and the Russians dead, or soon will be.”
John moved to the two men and asked, “What in the hell did you run into out here?”
“Looked like a squad of Spetsnaz to me. All are wearing NVG's, so we'll gather up their gear in a minute.” Dolly, still on the leash, wagged her tail when John neared.
They packed Esom, who'd taken a single round through both legs at the calves, to camp and turned him over to Sandra. As a prior nurse, she was as close as they came to a real doctor.
John, Tom, and Margie moved toward the downed Russians. As they walked, John said, “Take everything they have of any use. Remember, Esom still needs a good pair of boots, size 11. I hope the NVG's are in good shape, and take any spare batteries they may have, too. Take anything we can use.”
The first dead man they found had died from a bullet to the throat, so John removed his NVG's and was surprised when they worked. He put them on and said, “When we get two more, you'll both be able to see in the dark as well. Off to the left is another man.”
The man must have taken the full blast from a grenade, because his intestines were blown from his stomach. Tom removed the dead man's NVG's and they moved to another Russian, who was also stripped of his night vision goggles.
Tom said, “Now that we can see in the dark, check every man and make sure all are dead. Oh, I think the man on the right has a large pair of boots, so I'll take them for Esom.”
A single shot rang out and Margie said, “He was trying to lift a pistol.”
“All are Spetsnaz, see the tee-shirts with the blue and white stripes?”
“We've not seen many of them around, so why suddenly do we start to run into them?”
“I have no idea, but whoever has them under his orders, screwed up by using them like conventional soldiers. Whoa, what's this?” John asked.
He picked up a small receiver, about twice the size of a pack of cigarettes, looked it over and said, “By God, this is how they found us.” He removed the headset from the dead Russian.
Tom said, “That means the traitor is still sending signals. Turn it on or is it on?”
John turned it on and the compass on the face indicated the signals were coming from their camp. Damn me, that means the traitor is either Sandra, Mollie, or Esom, he thought. He turned 360 degrees, hoping there was a mistake and to check both Tom and Margie. Both were clean.
He continued to walk and when he entered camp, he followed the directions on the compass and it led him right to Sandra.
CHAPTER 6
Master Sergeant Rusak was tired and when the choppers landed to take them south of Edwards, he groaned. I am too damned old for this shit. My back hurts, I have only one flask of vodka left, and headquarters has no idea what in the hell they are doing, he thought and then yelled, “Line up, Turchin, by squads and have one squad per bird. Move, people, and let's not keep the pilots waiting.” He then walked to the nearest aircraft and climbed inside.
As soon as the men were inside, the engines became louder as the pilot lifted into the air, lowered the nose and began to move forward. A couple of minutes later they were flying in formation toward Edwards. The aircraft were close enough he could see the gunners of other choppers as they flew beside his. The Master Sergeant closed his eyes and leaned back to get a few minutes of rest.
A few minutes later a 'ca-ching' sounded followed almost instantly by a loud 'zing' and he knew they were taking small arms fire from the ground. One soldier began screaming and when Rusak looked in the direction of the noise, part of the man's lower jaw was missing. The helicopter began to wobble and shake, which made him wonder if serious damage had been sustained by the aircraft. Smoke began to slowly fill the passenger compartment.
“Shit, not good.” Rusak said to himself. As the aircraft slowly made its way to the ground, two others followed it down. The last three feet the aircraft fell, when a loud whine replace the straining engine noise. They hit hard, the aircraft rocked violently, but came to rest on its skids. He watched the crew up front switching knobs and buttons off. As soon as the aircraft quit moving the door-gunners helped everyone off the chopper.
Standing in the tall grasses, he saw other troops unloading their chopper, and the injured man was carried to a good bird. The chopper with the wounded man on it lifted and flew away, most likely to the hospital in Edwards.
As the man in charge, Rusak yelled to be heard over the engines of the last helicopter, “Form a perimeter and do it now. Where is a radio man?”
A hand came up and an unknown voice replied, “Here, Master Sergeant!”
“Get your young ass over here, son, and from now on you stay as close to me as my shadow. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master Sergeant.”
The chopper he'd abandoned suddenly started burning and the crew of four made their way to the last working aircraft and left.
“Move everyone about a half a mile west and move into those trees. We do not want to be around when the munitions start to cook off in the burning helicopter. Form on me!”
Moving at a trot, the men fell in behind the Master Sergeant and moved toward the woods. He'd just reached the trees when a huge explosion filled the air and looking over his shoulder he saw a big black and red fireball moving toward the sky. Then came lesser explosions, as munitions cooked off from the heat, and he even saw a rocket fly at an awkward angle into the air.
“Dig in and make a home, boys, we will be here a spell. Radio man?”
“Behind you, Sergeant.”
“Get base on the line and tell them we have been shot down and have moved west of the crash site. Then, asked them what they want us to do.”
Kneeling on one leg, Rusak pulled the shovel from his pack and began to dig into the dirt. He didn't figure they'd be pick up this day.
“Master Sergeant Rusak, base said for us to remain in the woods and they'll send a helicopter out for us in the morning.”
“Tell them thanks and give them our exact map location. If shit hits the barn door tonight, we may need some help.”
The radio man listened to the handset and said, “Out.” Then
turning to the Master Sergeant he added, “They claim we will have a quiet night, because intelligence says we are in a pacified area.”
“Pacified my ass! Did you remind them our helicopter was shot down flying over a damned pacified area? They can mark the whole map pacified, but it changes nothing.”
Seeing Junior Sergeant Shubin, he said, “Shubin, I want you to establish guards for the night, and I want 4 on at a time. You've got close to 30 men to choose from, but from this moment until we are picked up, we will have guards posted.”
As Shubin established the guard roster, Rusak walked among the men looking them over. Many he knew, because they were in Turchin's platoon, others he'd never seen before.
“If you men want to eat, do it during the daylight hours. There will be no fires this evening and Corporal Babin, get some mines out and around us that can be command detonated. I want this place as safe as we can get it before dark and that means each of you will have a deep hole to spend the night in. I suggest you buddy up to save on the amount of digging you have to do.”
The day passed slowly, but the men had taken all precautions that could be taken under their current conditions. After establishing security, they'd designated a latrine, cleaned their weapons, played grab-ass most of the day, and had just finished supper, but Rusak was concerned. This was not his first time in combat and he'd learned in previous guerrilla wars there were no front lines, so a pacified area this afternoon, could be crawling with enemy tonight. The partisans recognized they'd destroyed a chopper and they'd come to see what they could salvage from the wreckage. How did he know? Because it was exactly what he'd do if their roles were reversed.
“Shubin, make sure the guards know not to shoot at all movement tonight and resist firing unless they discover a direct threat to us. I am not positive, but I suspect partisans will come to look the downed helicopter over.”
“I've been worried about that Master Sergeant, because they must have seen the helicopters descend with these troops. But, they have no way of knowing, unless they had a man near, if we unloaded or just picked up the air crew of the disabled aircraft. And, we have no idea which direction they will come from when they approach the helicopter.”