The Fall of America | Book 3 | Enemy Within

by Benton, W. R.

  “Sergeant!” Rusak called out.

  “He is dead, Colonel. He was the first man to fall, I think.” Private Jur, the medic, said.

  “What do you need, sir?” Corporal Belsky asked.

  “Open each of these tents and see what is inside.” Lieutenant Colonel Rusak ordered as he walked toward the fallen form of Sergeant Sliva. He discovered the man on his back with four bullet holes in his body. Three bullets had struck his chest and one in the head. Rusak knew any one of the shots would have been fatal. He walked back and watched as his men checked the Americans for any signs of life. Jur was seen moving from person to person looking each over closely.

  Finally, Private Jur walked to him and said, “We have three captives, but the others are all dead or soon will be. I counted fourteen dead beyond any doubt and two more will join them within minutes.”

  “What of Yudin?”

  Private Jur grinned and said, “It looks much worse than it is. The shot actually missed a major artery and he will live. I have him patched up, shot him full of morphine, and he is fine until we can get him picked up.”

  “Colonel, you need to see this, sir!” the Corporal yelled from near the tents.

  When Rusak neared the man, the Corporal said, “Explosives, ammunition, and a big supply of medical supplies.”

  The Lieutenant Colonel had Belsky inventory and write it all down. Most of the gear was Russian, but some had Chinese marking, which confused him.

  Turning to his radio man, Rusak said, “Contact base and tell them we have hit a huge supply depot and some of the supplies are clearly marked in Chinese. Also let them know we have three captives, all women, an injured Private, and one man killed.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  It was while he was speaking to Belsky, the radio man said, “Colonel, they want all the Chinese items sent out by helicopter. Additionally, secure the captives for transportation, as well as our wounded and dead.”

  Rusak had it all completed by the time the “whop-whop” sound of the Ka-60 approaching was heard. Belsky popped a smoke flare and guided the chopper to a perfect landing. Within five minutes, all was loaded and the chopper moved away.

  “Colonel, the helicopter pilot asked for you to remain here until he could deliver you two replacements for the men we lost.”

  “Let him know we will do that, because we have some supplies to destroy.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Damn me, Sandra thought as she looked around the inside of the Russian chopper and made eye contact with Margie. Both were left behind when John and the rest had moved into Alabama to assist in attacks on gulags. She had no idea they'd end up prisoners and now she'd be beaten and raped. Margie, who was near an opening on the side, where the door had been removed, suddenly tilted and fell from the aircraft. She'd screamed, “Victory for America!” before she fell.

  The gunner yelled and the aircraft circled once and then assumed a straight course, which Sandra thought was to Edwards.

  I can't follow you, Margie, or I would. I'm packed in the center of this chopper, Sandra thought and then shook her head slowly. John will want to come for me, but will Colonel Tate allow it? I doubt it, because there were just three of us taken captive. John, no matter what happens, baby, I love you.

  The Chopper sat down on the Edwards Air Base flight-line a few minutes later and the captives were taken to the gulag and placed in individual cells. Sandra soon discovered her room was exactly four paces wide by eight paced long and she estimated the ceiling was eight feet high. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all concrete and the bars looked to be steel. The door was of solid oak and heavy, the hinges reinforced with long bolts through the door frame. The lock was simple, a huge padlock on a wide hasp on the outside. At the bottom of the door was a slot, that she knew food was placed in her cell through, and the honey bucket in the corner was passed through for emptying. She knew immediately she'd not get out of her cell.

  That day and night, no one bothered her and it frightened her more not be interrogated, because her mind was working double time on what they might do to her. She'd heard horror stories, the most recent from Colonel Tate, about how brutal the Russians were with prisoners. She fully expected to be raped, beaten and maybe executed. While she expected rough treatment, it was how the torture would be done that scared her.

  Near dark the slat on the bottom of her door opened and a tin plate was passed inside. It contained about a cup of beans and a few slices of some sort of meat. The meat was sliced paper thin and easily missed in the meal. As she suspected, it was pork. The jailer slid a cup of water into her cell next and then closed the slat.

  Standing on her metal bunk, she looked out the only window in her cell, through the bars. It was then she felt a light wind blowing and realized the window had no glass. She saw no source of heat in the room, no overhead vents, or radiators near the floor. Her overhead light was without a shade and had been burning since she arrived. It would never go out the whole time she lived in the cell.

  She prepared herself for death, because few ever escaped the Russians, and it was likely she'd be tortured to death during an interrogation. While she knew her mind was strong and her body was pretty damned tough too, she knew all people the Russians questioned broke at some point. The resistance asked all partisans to try not to break for 24 hours, because that would allow them time to move fighters or relocate supplies. Most of the members of the resistance had no idea where they were half the time and it was done that way on purpose. A person couldn't tell what they didn't know and the whole idea was to keep members in the dark.

  Her head quickly snapped toward the door as she heard keys rattling and few minutes later, the cell door swung open.

  A huge, muscular looking soldier in uniform said in poor English, “Come.”

  Sandra stood and moved toward the door, praying God would give her strength for what was to come. She knew she'd return to the cell beaten and in sad shape.

  The walk to interrogation was short. The room used to question prisoners was in the same building, but the room was dark. As she entered, Sandra noticed one low wattage bulb burning overhead, the walls were padded, and three metal chairs were bolted to the floor. The chairs, all of them, had straps and chains attached to them. The guard pushed her roughly to a chair and said, “Sit.”

  Sandra sat in the hard chair and immediately the guard buckled straps around her wrists, ankles, waist, and neck. He then left her alone in the room. From her chair, she could vaguely see a table, just out of the dim light, and it had a number of items intended to inflict pain on those who did not answer questions promptly.

  Nearly an hour later, Colonel Eline and the big Russian Private entered the room. Not a word was said as the Colonel lighted a cigarette, inhaled deeply and the released the smoke from his nose. Smiling at Sandra he asked, “Well, looks like my first client is a beautiful woman.”

  Here it comes, and Lord, give me strength, she silently prayed.

  Eline walked to Sandra, ran his hand down her face, and continued moving down until he cupped a breast in his hand. He smiled and said, “I have a few questions, before we get to know each other better and you will answer them, my dear, one way or the other. See, I have ways to make you talk. Some of my techniques cause extreme pain and others will maim you for life. It would be a shame for a beautiful woman like yourself to finish life blind, no tongue, or your face severely disfigured.”

  At the last sentence he'd lowered his face almost to hers, so Sandra spat in the Russian's face. He gave a mad laugh, wiped his face off with a handkerchief pulled from his coat pocket. Then partially turning, he swung his right hand hard and punched her on the side of the head. She saw stars and actually thought she'd pass out, but wasn't that lucky. She felt blood running down her right cheek.

  Colonel Eline said in Russian, “Private Artyom, use a metal rod and break her right arm. Then, leave the room and find ten men who want to use an American woman.”

  Hours later, alone
in her cell, Sandra felt dirty, used, and in pain. Her right arm throbbed. She knew it was broken, she'd been raped countless times, and both of her ears were missing. She'd held on for as long as she could, but eventually passed out.

  I can't return to John like I am. He'd take me back easily enough, but I feel so filthy and dirty now. The arm and ears I can do nothing about, but endure the pain. Lord, why are you allowing this to happen to me? I ask you to help me, She thought as she looked around her concrete room.

  A few minutes later, either from fatigue or pain, she fell asleep.

  The day the women from his cell were taken, John and the rest returned from Alabama to find their camp a black spot in the woods. All the supplies were gone, numerous dead were left unburied, and the only survivor, a young man of seventeen said three women were taken away by the Russians. The witness went so far as to name the three women and John almost panicked when he hard Sandra's name spoken.

  His head quickly turned to Colonel Tate, who said, “We can't make a rescue attempt, John, the place is too secure since our last attack. Hell, they've even placed tanks in the compound and we'd be torn to bits trying to get to her.”

  “She's my wife, Colonel, so I have to try!” John said, as his head spun in different directions.

  “You will not try and that's an order. We can't rescue her, but we might be able to end her suffering and trust me, she is suffering.”

  “Kill her? Is that what you mean?”

  “Exactly, because right now, that's the best we can do for her and the other two, or did you forget about them?”

  “I . . . I'm overwhelmed, sir, and not thinking clearly.”

  “Give it some thought, John, serious thought. However, for each hour you're considering her fate, she's in pain. As a prior guest of the Russians, I can assure you, she'll be raped and then tortured, because I've seen it happen before. If there was a way to get them out, by God I'd do it, but there is absolutely no hope.”

  With tears in his eyes, John sat on a blood-stained log, pulled Dolly close, and cried. He'd never considered that one of them would die and he'd felt he and Sandra had years left. His body shook and quivered as he realized he would soon be alone in the world, with no one talk with or convey his dreams, fears, and hopes. Then his mind switched to Sandra and he gave thought to her situation. She was a strong woman and she could recover from rapes, but it was unlikely, as a member of the resistance, she'd be allowed to live. Usually partisans were executed on the spot, but their intelligence section must be interrogating them for new information.

  It was then a cell entered the camp and the leader, a man named Smith said, “We found the bodies of our dead dumped in a clearing about five miles from Edwards, Colonel. The dead from the attack on Edwards.”

  “Were you able to identify them?”

  “Most, but some were torn to hell and back. Oh, and both snipers you left behind are dead. We found the woman and the black guy among the dead.” Smith said and then handed a sheet of paper to Colonel Tate as he added, “Here is a list of those we could identify, the rest will have to be listed as missing in action.”

  “Thank you, Smith, and have your cell relax for a bit. As soon as we get our thoughts lined up, we're leaving here.”

  Smith shrugged and sat on the end of the same log John was on.

  A light rain blew in and everyone constructed a temporary shelter, except John remained sitting on the log. Even when it turned to a short, but hard, downpour, he didn't move. His mind was on Sandra, his love for her, and the hopelessness of her situation.

  Two hours later, the sun broke through the clouds and John said, “Colonel, I request permission, sir, to take what remains of my cell and terminate the prisoners.”

  “Disapproved, however, you can take what remains of your cell and join Captain Smith as he makes sure the prisoners no longer suffer at the hands of the Russians.”

  “We'll never get close enough to kill anyone, so how are we to do this, sir?” Smith asked as he crawled out from his poncho shelter. John never noticed the raindrops falling from the trees or the chill in the wind.

  “We have some LAW's here and two of your men are carrying Russian 40 mm semi-automatic grenade launchers, and I'm sure between the two weapons, you are capable of ending the suffering of our people. Just with the launchers alone you have twelve shots. Do you know your way around the camp, Captain?”

  “I know where they keep prisoners that are newly caught and where they do the interrogations, if that's what you're really asking me, sir.”

  “It is. Your orders are to completely destroy that facility. Then, do not return to us, until you've entered Alabama. We want this to look like someone else was behind it.”

  Looking at John, Smith said, “If you move with me, I call the shots, okay?”

  John nodded.

  Smith looked around camp and met the eyes of his men before he said, “Let's get our shelters down and prepare to move. I want to be in place by dark. We'll launch our attack right at 2200 on the dot, so let's move, people.”

  The walk to the gulag was uneventful, except John had to fight back tears. In all his years, never had he been forced to accept such deep pain. He loved Sandra with his very soul and now he was going to assist in killing her.

  A half a mile from the camp, Smith stopped, looked at his watch and said, “When we're near the target, I want the LAW's and grenade launchers ready for action. I expect the Russians to come after us and they'll be fast, as well as pissed. So, I want three LAW's fired and both grenade launchers empty before we leave. The building should be completely destroyed or on fire before we leave. Any questions?”

  Since there were none, they continued to move. All wore NVG's and a light mist was falling as they neared an electrical fence that surrounded the whole camp. Smith placed his men on a slight incline, hardly a hill, but elevated enough they were slightly higher than other terrain in the area.

  John, glad it was dark and raining, with tears in his eyes, extended the first LAW and then placed it by his feet. He then prepared the other two for firing.

  He'd just raised the first LAW to his shoulder, when Smith touched his shoulder and pointed at a guard nearing outside the fence and he had a dog. One of Smith's men, a tall thin man called “Slim” removed a crossbow from his back. Loading one arrow, he placed the other on the ground beside him, and took careful aim.

  The twang of the bowstring was light and hardly heard in the night air. Slim pulled the string back, loaded another arrow and sighted in on the guard, now bent over his dog. Again he fired and his target fell quietly to the mud.

  Whispering, Smith said, “Fire the LAW's now and both of you with the launchers, wait for the first explosion, then join the dance. The rest of you, get ready to move and quickly. ”

  John had been praying, asking for forgiveness for killing his wife, but now turned all professional as he sighted in the center of the concrete structure and fired. The Law struck the building with a loud explosion and almost immediately the sound of a siren was heard. Search lights, mounted on the tall search towers began crossing the darkness outside of the fence. The second LAW struck right at the rear of Sandra's cell and blew a huge hole in the cinder blocks and concrete. The force of the blast blew her up against the door and she heard the guards screaming and yelling. Dust, smoke and debris filled the air.

  Moving slowly, Sandra made her way through the hole and outside. The interrogation center was now under heavy fire as the Russian 40 mm semi-automatic, 6-shot grenade launchers did their damage. Seeing the light from the weapons as they fired, Sandra made her way toward the fence. One of the men using a grenade launcher, punched a hole in the fence and then started firing at towers, and other targets of opportunity.

  A squad of Russian soldiers rounded the destroyed building, moving right for Sandra. The partisans fired and men began to fall. Sandra was close to the fence and John, not knowing the figure was his wife, moved to the hole in the protective wire.

  �
�This way!” John screamed as he neared. Suddenly there was a huge explosion and something in the building they'd fired on exploded. Sandra was knocked off her feet, but John was quickly at her side. By the green light of the NVG's, he recognized Sandra and yelled to be heard, “Move and do it now. If you don't, this will have been all for nothing.”

  She stood, took four or five steps and then collapsed. John scooped her up in his arms and moved for the treeline.

  As soon as he neared the partisans, Smith yelled, “Move dead east and do it now!”

  They broke contact just as a bright search light from one of the towers found them. Guns were fired and the light quickly went out. John, dropped his back pack and with Sandra on his back began to move with the others. They'd covered less than a mile, when the sound of an approaching chopper was heard.

  “Under your poncho's now! If this bird is infrared equipped, we're dead meat.” Smith yelled as he pulled his poncho from his pack. Then, falling to the ground, the partisan's covered their bodies with the waterproof material.

  John, realizing he'd left his pack, with his poncho, threw his body on Sandra's. Please Lord, he prayed, don't let this chopper have sensor gear.

  The chopper flew in lazy circles a few times and then moved back toward camp. As soon as the bird moved away from them, the partisans were up and running east.

  After about five miles, Smith said, “Give your wife to another man, John, you're slowing us down.”

  “I need to look at her injuries.”

  “Not yet, you won't. I'll not risk the lives of all of us for the sake of one person. Now, hand her to Thomas and let's move. I plan to stop in a couple of hours.”

  Time crawled by as John moved beside Thomas and when Smith finally called for a short rest, John looked Sandra over. Night was turning to day and the NVG's were removed and placed in packs.

  “Oh, baby, what have they done to you?” John asked in tears as he saw her face. She'd been beaten hard, her nose was broken, teeth were chipped, and both ears were missing. Someone had stuck something hot to her beautiful face to the point she was no longer attractive. Shivering at the damage done to her face, John quickly discovered a broken right arm, a bullet hole to her upper right shoulder, and numerous small burns and cuts to her body. Reaching into a small pouch he carried, he pulled out a syringe of morphine and slid the needle into her right thigh. He then patched her bullet wound and smiled when he saw Captain Smith making a stretcher from some tree limbs.