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The Fall of America | Book 3 | Enemy Within

Page 8

by Benton, W. R.


  They moved throughout the night, stopping every hour for a few minutes of rest. While Esom wasn't a huge man, his weight grew heavy when carried by two people, so John had Sandra's hands untied and gave her a shift of packing the litter.

  An hour before daylight, Tom stopped and then after a few minutes he returned to the group and said, “I have a crossroads about a hundred yards in front of us and it's manned by a Russian T-90. I saw no other troops in the area.”

  “We can go around it easily enough.” John said.

  “True, but isolated like it is, I would really hate to pass up a good target like this.”

  “It only has a crew of three, right?”

  “Yep and it's very likely all three are inside asleep.” Tom said.

  “Let's you and me move to the tank and drop a grenade down the hatch. I've yet to see a crew sleep with a hatch closed. I just hope they're really alone or we'll end up dead meat.”

  “We'll circle the thing first, but we need to hurry, because it'll be daylight within an hour.”

  “Let's go, and you take the left and I'll take the right side. We'll approach the tank from the rear. Once on top, we drop two grenades down the hatch and then haul ass.”

  As he moved, John scanned the countryside with his goggles, but saw no additional troops. It was when he was beside the tank that he saw a track was off and broken. Behind the tank he spotted a blast hole, and most likely a mine had exploded, damaging the track. He soon met with Tom.

  “I saw nothing.” Tom whispered.

  “Clean on my side too.”

  Pulling two grenades, Tom handed one to John and said, “Move quickly and quietly. At the hatch, do not hesitate and drop your grenade as soon as possible. It's likely the munitions will cook off the fuel, so be moving fast before the grenades explode.”

  “Don't worry about me, I'll be getting the hell out of Dodge. I've seen a few tanks go up and I don't want to be anywhere near when it blows. Now, let's move.”

  At the rear of the Tank they each moved to a different side and then climbed up. Moving slowly and placing their feet quietly, they were soon near the hatch. John could hear one man snoring in the tank, as he pulled the pin and waited for Tom.

  Once ready, both men held the their grenades side by side and then dropped them. When they struck the floor, a loud clang-clang was heard. As they jumped from the tank, a Russian was heard screaming. The drivers hatch flew open but before the crew could move, there came two explosions, one a second later than the other. Glancing over his shoulder as the first grenade exploded, John saw flames shooting out the drivers hatch and the top hatch. Beyond any doubt, the men inside were dead. He broke into a faster run, knowing the gas and munitions were going to explode next, and soon too.

  John had just reached the treeline when the tank blew, sending a huge fireball into the dark sky. The turret tilted on it's side and then fell to the grasses beside the tank. At this point, the munitions began to cook off. Not waiting around, the group began to move south, and only the injured Esom kept them from running. The Russians would be pissed to discover they'd lost another tank to partisans.

  Glancing back at the general location of the tank, John saw a large band of dense black smoke twisting into the sky. He knew if any Russian aircraft were in the area, they'd be attracted to the site.

  Two hours later, as they neared the spot to meet with Willy, John turned the Russian directional finder on and almost fell over when it indicated multiple readings. One reading was off in front to them, but a louder one was coming from his own group.

  He called Tom to him and said, “Look at this shit.”

  Tom turned to the his group and said, “Every damned one of you stand still.” When John approached the group his loudest reading came from Mollie. He had the others step aside and noticed no reading from them once away from her.

  “So, the traitor is really you, isn't it, Mollie?” Tom asked.

  Mollie lowered her head and began to cry. After a minute or so, she raised her head and said, “They have my parents, both of them, in a gulag. They threatened to kill them if I refused to work with them. They're all I have of my family still living. When I was found by y'all in the outhouse hiding with my son, I was already carrying a beeper for the Russians.”

  “Mollie, how did Sandra get a beeper in her pocket?” John asked in a soft voice, but inside he was livid.

  “When Sandra turned her head, I slipped the transmitter in her coat pocket.”

  “So, you acted alone?”

  “Yes, but don't you see, I have to keep my parents alive, no matter what.”

  Tom exploded this time, “Damn you, you cost the lives of men and women fighting for our freedom! If John hadn't turned the directional finder on just now, you would have allowed Sandra to be executed, just to save your own ass. John, tie her hands behind her back and untie Sandra.”

  When John untied Sandra, she fell into his arms and said, “John, I was scared and didn't want you thinking I'd do something like this. It broke my heart.”

  “This is not the proper time or place to discuss this, but I was terribly wrong. Please, forgive me.”

  She gave him a warm kiss and said, “You're forgiven.”

  “All right, we still have one live bug in front of us and I suspect it's someone in Willy's group.” Tom said.

  “Saddle up and let's move. I want to show Willy our new toy and find his traitor, too.” John said as he lifted his pack and adjusted the straps.

  They moved forward about 200 feet, when a voice said, “That's close enough, who are you?”

  “Is that you, Wilson?” John asked.

  A man stood, looked the group over and said, “Sorry about that, didn't recognize y'all. Willy is holding a meeting in a bit, so if you hurry you can catch it.”

  Willy was sitting beside a small fire, sipping on coffee when John's cell entered. As the leader, John moved to Willy's side and whispered, “I've caught one spy and you have one within your ranks, too.”

  Willy's head came up and he asked, “Who is it?”

  “Let me show you.” He pulled the directional device from his pack, turned it on and immediately heard it beeping. He turned 360 degrees and then moved right for a group of men eating.

  Once among the men, he turned until he was facing a man standing beside Top.

  “Move away, Top.” John said.

  “I don't think I know you.” the man said as his eyes reflected fear.

  “I'm Captain to you, and what's your name?”

  “I'm Alexander Hall, why, sir?”

  Raising the directional device, John said, “You're bugged and sending our location to the Russians. Why are you doing this, Alex?”

  “The Russians threatened to kill my wife and kids, that's why.” He lowered his head.

  “Give me the bug and now.”

  Alex reached inside his shirt, but instead of pulling a bug, he jerked out a pistol. There came a loud shot and Alex collapsed to the ground, shot between his eyes. Parts of the man's skull, brain, and gore flew from the back of his head, splattering a big oak tree behind him.

  While the man's body twisted and jerked, as his system shut down, John looked in the direction of the shot. Esom, still laying on the stretcher, had a big grin on his face. His sniper rifle was held in his hands.

  “Thanks, Esom.” John said as he squatted. He started going through Alex's clothing and found a bug in the dead man's shirt pocket. He handed it to Willy, grinned and said, “I think we need to be moving, because just one airstrike would kill us all and they do know where we are right now.”

  “Tom! Get everyone up and ready to leave. Keep the other spy secured and we'll deal with her later. Let's move, people!”

  They moved until midnight and then pulled in tight, and ringed the perimeter with Claymores, mines, and toe-poppers.

  “No fires. If you want to eat, eat your meal cold. We'll have a fire in the morning long enough to have some tea or heat some food, then out it goes.” W
illy said, then walked to a log and sat down.

  John, knowing something was on Willy's mind asked, “What are you thinking about?”

  “The other spy. I dread killing her, but she admitted to the crime and must be made an example of, or others will do it too.” Willy lowered his head to his hands and then ran his finger through his hair.

  “What about a trial of sorts?”

  “That would be a waste of time, because she's admitted to spying and planting a bug on Sandra. Your wife almost died for Mollie's crimes.”

  John walked to the log, sat and Dolly immediately stuck her head in his lap, wanting her ears scratched. “So, how do we execute her?” He began playing with her ears.

  “By hanging, and we'll leave her body twisting in the wind, with an ace of spades in her mouth. We'll plant the bug you found in her pocket, turned on of course, so they'll find her. I just hate killing a woman, only she brought this on herself. The Russians have probably killed her parents already, we both realize that, except how's she to know? A lot of good lives were lost due to her.”

  “I know, and at first I was mad enough to shoot Sandra, my own wife, without hesitation. Of all types of people in the world today, I hate a traitor the most, because they deceive people.”

  “She won't much betray anyone any longer, because the hanging will happen at dawn.”

  “How do we do the job? We don't have a horse or anything for her to stand on.”

  “Sorry, but she'll not die clean with a broken neck. We'll pull her about three of four feet into the air and leave her ass. Eventually she'll strangle to death.”

  John started to say something, but didn't. He would not argue for a quick or clean death for Mollie; too many had died, not to mention Sandra was suspect once. He stood, nodded to Willy, and headed to his blanket.

  He'd just wrapped up in a blanket when Sandra asked, “How is she to die?”

  “Hanging, but she'll be made to choke to death.”

  “That's so terrible.”

  “Just remember, it could be you instead of her. If I'd not turned the directional finder on again, you'd be facing death. I feel horrible that I didn't believe you, but it was hard to accept at the time.”

  “Trust me, I can see your side of things, but I'd never put your life in jeopardy for any reason on this earth, none. I was heart broken that you didn't defend me, but looking back now, I can say I understand. I was actually caught red-handed.”

  Pulling her close, John said, “I'll never assume anything about you in the future and I'm very sorry I let you down. I should have trusted you and defended you, but I was so angry.” He kissed her cheek and trembled when he realized just how close he'd come to losing her.

  “Baby, I looked guilty and even at the time, I could see why you'd not believe me. I really could. I'm just glad it all worked out well in the end.”

  “At dawn tomorrow, Mollie hangs, so it won't work out well for her.”

  “Let's try to sleep, because we'll be moving at first light. Mollie made her bed when she agreed to help the Russians, now she'll have eternity to sleep in it.”

  An hour before dawn, all were awake and a very frightened Mollie stood in front of Willy. Willy read the charges and said, “Since you admitted spying for the Russians to both Tom and John, to protect your family, is there anything you want to add before I pass sentence?”

  Mollie, her head lowered, said, “My act was selfish, but my goal was never to harm other Americans, but to keep my family alive. After the first attack on us, well, I wanted to quit, but I knew the Russians would kill my family.”

  “Mark, I understand you have something to say to Mollie.”

  “Not long ago, Lewis, May, and myself escaped from the Edwards gulag. I was imprisoned the longest and once knew your family. A while back, after these partisans attacked a staff car on the freeway, killed some officers, and then downed a few choppers during the same attack, the Russians shot over a thousand prisoners in retaliation. Your family died in those shootings. You've been used and your family is long dead.”

  “That can't be.” Mollie said.

  “I swear to you it is the truth and I saw the executions myself, all of us did.”

  “No! They promised to keep them alive and feed them better than anyone else.”

  Willy said, “Top, bring me a rope.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The bullet had only grazed the Colonel's shoulder, but he didn't move, knowing any movement would instantly bring another shot. He was unsure how long he'd have to wait, but suspected an hour would be long enough. I hope I do not bleed to death before I can safely move, he thought as he looked at the grasses near his nose. Off in the distance, birds were chirping.

  Alvang and the sniper sat in chairs, high in a tower and watched the Colonel. After half an hour with no movement, then the Lieutenant Colonel said, “The Senior Sergeant will have a quart of vodka for you today when your duty ends. I am very pleased with your shooting skills this morning, Corporal, and I will mention your name in my message to Moscow about how you downed an escapee. Come, let us leave the tower so the regular guard can continue his duties.”

  At the end of an hour, the Colonel crawled slowly into the woods. Once in the trees, he quickly moved south, where he suspected the partisans were hiding. As he moved, he ripped his shirt and made a crude bandage for his injury. He was weak from hunger; he'd not been fed while a guest of Lieutenant Colonel Alvang, and blood loss. However, he knew his only chance of survival was to connect with the partisans. Due to his condition, he stumbled through the woods like a drunk, bouncing off trees and falling over rocks.

  After covering almost a mile, he had to rest, so he crawled under a huge pine and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, hearing Russian spoken, his heart began to pound hard in his chest. He'd been one of the earlier prisoners and over time he'd picked up some Russian words, but he was no way fluent in the language.

  “How much further, Master Sergeant?” an unknown voice asked.

  “About two kilometers, why? Do you have a date or meeting you must attend?”

  The unknown voice laughed and replied, “I wish I did have a date, but no, I dislike being out here with just the four of us. If we run into partisans, we'll not be able to fight long.”

  “We are too close to the gulag to encounter the resistance, or so I think. There is no one out here.” the Master Sergeant said.

  A third voice said, “I see blood on the grass here.”

  The Colonel's heart began to beat loud and hard. He knew if they got any nearer to him they'd hear it pounding in his chest.

  “It is likely someone escaped the gulag or a wounded partisan came this way. We are infantry soldiers, not camp guards, so the blood is no business of ours.” the Master Sergeant said.

  “There is more blood here, moving away from camp.”

  “Corporal Babin, we are not paid to search for runaway prisoners. We are soldiers in the infantry and we fight partisans.”

  Lowering his head, Babin replied, “I was just thinking we would return heroes if we brought back a prisoner.”

  “Forget it and continue moving toward the camp. Intelligence needs to know about the partisans attacking us in a large group and the killing of my men. Let the guards worry about prisoners.”

  “As you wish, Master Sergeant.”

  Damn me, that was too close, the Colonel thought as he heard the Russians moving away from his position. After about twenty minutes he stood and began to move south again.

  The gate guard at the gulag looked at Master Sergeant Rusak as if he were a ghost and said, “We heard you and all your troops were killed.”

  “Open the gate, Private, because I am tired, hungry and need a strong drink. As you can see, the four of us are very much alive, but all are injured.”

  The guard quickly unlocked the padlock, pulled the chain and said, “All of you need to come with me to the duty officer. I am not sure how to handle this.”

  “Lead the way, so I can
get some medical treatment and then rest.” Rusak replied.

  Finally, after two long hours with intelligence going over the attack, he was issued a quart of vodka by his doctor and sent to his quarters. He had a long shower, ate a hot meal in the mess hall, and then returned to his room where he now sipped his strong drink. This war is much like the war in Vietnam that the Americans fought so many years ago. I do not understand why Moscow cannot see we will never win this conflict. The people all look alike, the general population supports the resistance, and each time we kill an innocent person the people are greatly angered. I do not think our intelligence ever considered the number of guns all Americans owned before we invaded. I read, where was that, I can not remember, but there were two guns for every person. Only a foolish country would invade a well armed nation. I think since the American government collapsed, our intelligence suspected they would be easy to bring under control, but it will never happen. I miss you, Esfir, he thought. He then knocked a half glass of vodka down and stretched out on his bed. He was asleep in minutes.

  He awoke a couple of hours later, still tired and with his shoulder wound throbbing. He took a pain pill the doctor had given him and washed it down with a sip of vodka, which the doctor had warned him not to do. Almost immediately he grew sleepy and before he was aware of it, he was asleep again.

  Near the end of the day he awoke, but felt drugged from the pill, so he remained in his room and nibbled at a ration he had in his wall locker. When his pain grew too intense, he put the pills in a drawer and poured four fingers of Vodka in a water glass. He knocked the drink back and then smiled as the potent alcohol burned all the way to his stomach. With a couple more drinks, his pain dulled and he grew sleepy again. Intending to only rest his eyes, he was soon asleep.

  Morning arrived with Rusak starved and since his vodka was low, he popped a pain pill and headed to the chow hall. As a ranking NCO, he sat at a table reserved for other Master Sergeants and Senior Sergeants. This morning the table was empty, so he ate alone. He was enjoying a cup of hot tea, spiked with vodka, when Colonel Dubow made his way to the table. Rusak stood and assumed the position of attention for the Colonel.

 

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