by W. R. Benton
It was then I realized the chopper was not infrared equipped, or they'd see Black's movement. I fired my Bison at the bird, as Black picked up the LAW and fired. Most of the partisans, from what I could see, were shooting too.
The LAW's 66 mm rocket struck the chopper near the engine and almost immediately dense black smoke began to pour from the engine exhaust. The bird wobbled grossly and then climbed to avoid further damage. As it gained altitude, it turned slowly and then moved north, and I saw a piece of aluminum fall from the engine housing.
I stood, moved to Hall, squatted beside his body but found him dead, the big slugs almost cutting him in two. Black stood on the trail, LAW at his feet and looked shocked.
“Let's move, people, that chopper has at least radioed our location and the bulk of the Russian army may soon visit.”
As we moved, just below a jog, I turned to Carol and asked, “Still worried about Black?”
“No, I guess I was wrong about him, but he still feels different to me.”
“Some personalities feel different to all of us, but I have complete confidence he's a true patriot now.”
As they moved, Tom, or Master Sergeant Sokoloff, knew his firing at the Russian helicopter had proven his loyalties beyond a doubt. He realized, when Corporal Hall fell, it was his chance to be totally accepted into the team. He'd tried to down the aircraft, knowing the lives of the crew was a small price to pay to prevent a nuclear weapon from being used against his countrymen.
The rest of the day, we heard choppers moving and noticed the change in engine pitch as they landed, dropping off teams to search for us, or making false insertions. I had no idea how many teams were looking for us, but suspected at least five. Our only advantage was we knew the area and this allowed us to move faster. We had few mines or toe-poppers left, but planted them when we could.
We also rigged grenades to explode by securing them to brush near the trail, and then running thin fishing line across the trail. Most of us carried one or two small circular cans that allowed us to pull the grenade's pin and slip the grenade into a can. The can's shape prevented the spoon from flying off. If the line was anchored securely on one side and then attached to the grenade, just walking into the line would pull the explosive from the can, allowing the spoon to fly off and it would explode.
So far, we'd heard no explosions. Which either meant they've not found our trail yet or they've spotted and avoided our booby-traps. We continued to move just a tad faster than a normal walk, so we were covering some ground. If all worked out properly, we'd leave the swamp the next day, near noon.
We didn't stop like we usually did at noon for a meal. Instead, we ate as we moved and kept the pace fast. Tom was having a difficult time keeping up, even with most of the swelling down in his leg. I knew his pain was bad when I saw him take a few slugs from the vodka bottle. But, he never complained and kept moving with the rest of us. An hour after dark, we established a cold camp and got comfortable for the night.
As I moved around, talking with my team members, I heard our radio operator, Sara Lea, say, “Colonel, they want to speak to you.”
This was our normal evening call in to get the next day's password, to give them a status of our team, and to let them know our position.
“Base, Quarterback here.”
“We have two other teams in your area that are searching for the Russian Bear. They reported seeing four teams inserted earlier today. One team was taken out in an ambush, but the partisans lost half of their team. At that time we had three teams in your area, but the team with the ambush has been ordered to return to base.”
“Any idea how close they may be to my team's position now?”
“Not exactly, but one Russian unit was known to be less than three miles from you and another near five. A great deal depends on if they stop for the night or not.”
“And, what are the chances of a partisan unit catching up with us?”
“Both have orders to link with you, if they can, once the Russian threat has been terminated.”
“Negative, do not have them link with us. A smaller unit is easier to hide, makes less noise, and takes less gear and supplies. Keep them behind us, so they can keep our back trail clear.”
“Copy, negative on the link up. How are your supplies holding up?”
“We're good overall, but have no ground to air defense, nothing.”
“The General has a unit in front of you to resupply you. The unit is currently moving to meet you tomorrow. Be prepared to meet near mid-morning.”
“Roger that, so anything else?”
“Negative and your new man, Tom Black, has been verified as not among the dead. Now many of the dead were torn up, but no one who knew the man spotted his body. As far as base is concerned, your man Black is cleared and with a top secret clearance, which is what he's had from the start. Your new password and counter password for tomorrow is Black Forest ham.”
“Copy on the password, and I'll have it decoded in a few minutes. This is Quarterback, out.”
“Base out.”
A few minutes later, Lea said, “Black Forest ham decodes to Rapid - Deployment.”
“Good.” I said and then looking around, I said, “I want the same guards as every night, but Top, I need to speak to you privately if I can for a few minutes.”
Top stood, gave me a big grin and said, “I always have time for a Full Bull.”
We walked off a bit and I shared what base had told me about Black. We both sat on the log and I was a bit surprised when he said, “I like the man, I really do, and his effort to down the chopper with the LAW showed his dedication to our cause, but there is something about him that's different.”
I said, “He's not much of a talker, and Carol is watching the man, too. Headquarters said Tom Black's body was not among the dead when they checked for it, just to confirm the man had survived. They just informed me that he has a top secret clearance and has had for a long time.”
“Well, I don't think the man is a spy, I simply said he's different. Even our old friend Willy Williams was different, so write it off as a personality quirk he has. Some men and women are loners and that's what I think our Tom Black is, a loner.”
“Tomorrow when we split, I may take another person with me to provide security as I place and arm the bomb. I've learned from this trip that Carol may be the best person to work with me on arming the bomb, but she's not much of a fighter. She's a staff person and not a field grunt.”
“Who will you take? And, watch the staff troop comments too, sir, because I'm one.” Top smiled.
“Hell, I don't know who I'll take, and it doesn't make much difference to me.” I ignored his comment about staff personnel.
“One is as good as the other and while I'd love to go with you, the General has other plans for me when I get back. Did you get the password for the day?”
“The password is Rapid - Deployment.”
“Let's get back and prepare for the night. I want everyone up and moving an hour before first light.” I said, and then yawned.
We walked back to camp and settled in for the evening. It was near 0200 hours when I got up to pee, when I saw Thompson on guard. I did my business and then moved to his side to talk a few minutes.
“Quiet?”
“Yes, sir, not so much as a gator breaking wind.”
“Tomorrow most of you will return to base. I'm sure you'll get a little time off to eat and rest.”
“What I really need is a hot shower and then get some hot food in me.”
“I think we all need that. I miss the simple things from before the fall.”
“Like what?”
“Being able to heat things in a microwave, getting meat pre-cut, sliced bread in plastic bags, and eating cereal from a box and getting milk in containers.”
“I've had no milk since the fall and very little meat that required cutting. The first couple of years I did bag some deer, attempting to keep my family alive.”
“Were you able to keep them alive?”
“There were five of us to start, my wife and I, and then our kids. We lost the two youngest babies to an unknown fever way before I joined the resistance, but Brad is as strong as an ox. They're back living with the civilians at Base. At least there they have security and food.”
“If you're an American, Base is as safe as it gets in this country right now.”
“I've heard some strange noises on the radio on my shift. One partisan unit, west, near Vicksburg, attacked a train leaving the city. They found a bunch of pills for nuclear radiation, dosimeters, and other testing gear. Along with some suits that look different than our chemical suits. They think they're some kind of radiation protective suits. They reported the train engine destroyed and almost half a company of Russians killed.”
“We can use all that gear and more. I suspect we're getting fallout right now.”
“Does it cause cancer?”
“I'm no doctor and really don't know for sure, but I would suspect it could. That's one of the reasons we're here, under trees. The only thing that will keep a person really safe is distance and shielding. Thick concrete or in a cave would work.”
“We can't sit on our asses and let the Russians rule the roost, just because a nuke has exploded. It's worth the lives of all partisans to free our country of occupational forces.”
I stood, stretched and said, “I agree, but right now I need some sleep.”
“Goodnight, Colonel.”
“Night, John.” I said as I walked back to my sleeping bag. I slid in beside Carol and felt her reaching for me to pull me closer.
Morning was chilly with a light drizzle and gray skies from horizon to horizon. While not really cold, it was excellent hypothermia weather, so I had folks buddy up and watch each other. We were moving up the trail, using our NVGs, as Brewer was on point and Thompson was on drag. Thompson had complained he only had one toe-popper and no mines left. A unit our size was limited and could only carry so much, because our backs paid for every ounce we carried. Our first priorities were ammo and food, then mines, and finally surface-to-air defense. If all worked out well this morning, we'd link up with another team and be resupplied.
We'd come a long way in a few short years. I can remember fighting off my neighbors with Molotov cocktails and homemade napalm. While it worked, we were much better supplied now than at that time. Of course most of our gear is stolen from the Russians, and I've heard from the General that the Chinese will soon be supplying us, too. I'll not trust that rumor until I unpack a box of something they send us. Talk is cheap, while supporting a war is expensive.
Brewer had marked a couple of old mines the rains had uncovered, and I was glad he was on point. Good point people were hard to find, and while some of my folks did better then others, all did the job well.
I looked up, saw Brewer down on one knee with a balled fist in the air. His sign language was for us to stop he'd seen something.
Chapter 14
Captain Pajari was released from the hospital with orders to not return to work for at least 10 days, and when he returned to his quarters, it was empty. He finally found the Lieutenant in charge of quarters and he was assured all his belongings were in his new home, on officers row. Angry at the thought of moving, he'd gone to his new place and found it too much for him. He now had a kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and living room. Before, he'd had one room and it was a tent. He was overwhelmed by the space and didn't need most of it. But, he'd been in the army long enough to realize fighting the system would do him no good, except label him as a problem child, and that he didn't need.
On his second day free from the hospital, the phone in his quarters rang and he was instructed to be at the 1800 meeting the Commander had each day. He would officially be promoted, his medals presented, and he would be welcomed into the officer corps. He disliked going but knocked back a few stiff drinks after 1700 and was feeling no pain when he arrived.
Promptly at 1800, a Master Sergeant yelled, “Teeennn-hooot!”
Everyone in the room stood at attention as the Commander walked in.
Walking to the podium, the Colonel said, “Please, remain standing. Standing beside me on stage is prior Senior Sergeant Albert Pajari. The Sergeant was personally responsible for the defense of our forward operating base, 'Tent City', and when it came under attack by an estimated three thousand partisans, with his Commander unconscious, he and he alone saved the entire base by taking command. Additionally, when being returned to the Base as ordered, one door-gunner was severely injured and this man held a bleeding artery closed with his fingers to prevent loss of life. The helicopter Commander and crew were all injured in the crash, but our brave Senior Sergeant saved their lives as well. The quick action of Sergeant Pajari has been recognized by Moscow.”
Removing a tab with a Captain's rank from a tray held by a Master Sergeant, the Base Commander and another full Colonel placed the rank on Pajari.
“Now if you will all stand, my executive officer will read the citation to award both the Cross of St. George and the Order of Kutuzov.”
Ten minutes later, Pajari was standing by the door shaking hands with all the officers as they left, and turning down invitations to have some drinks later. He used the excuse he was on medication to avoid mingling with any officers. However, when the Commander walked near, handed him a glass of vodka, then toasted Mother Russia and to his future as a new Russian officer, he knocked the drink back. He knew the old Master Sergeant who was pouring the drinks well, and at one point he winked at the new Captain.
After he had shared three drinks with the Commander, he was dismissed and he quickly returned to his quarters. He changed into a t-shirt and baggy military running shorts. Since his new quarters had a television with only one channel, a military one, he began watching an old Russian movie. He heard a knock on his door.
He opened the door to see the Master Sergeant who'd been at the staff meeting.
“How is Russia's newest Captain, Albert?”
“Come in, please, Emin. How have you been?” He pointed to a plush chair in the living room.
“I brought you a good bottle of vodka to celebrate your promotion, and have a drink to the memory of Master Sergeant Sokoloff.”
Caught off guard by the comment about Sokoloff, he asked, “Has something happened to Vlad?”
“His unit was an all English speaking team, and by listening to the American radio transmissions, we have learned his group was killed, with no survivors.”
“Oh, not good. His wife will not take that well, because he was to retire next year. Has his death been confirmed?”
“No body recovered, if that is what you mean. A field unit visited the site, but found no survivors, and some of the bodies were shot to hell. I am sorry, Albert, but I thought you knew.”
Sitting down on the sofa, his mind racing, he hoped it was all one big mistake. Then he asked, “Have his belongings been sent home?”
“I boxed them up myself this morning, and by now they are in the air. We sure do not leave much behind when we die, either. I think most of his stuff would have fit in a shoebox.”
“I am sorry, Emin, I am just shocked by this is all. Please, pour the drinks, if you will.”
After a few drinks things loosened up a little and the conversation moved on to other things, like the foods they missed, the theater, and after retirement plans. Albert was going to retire back on the farm, where he could enjoy his remaining years in peace and quiet. Emin was going to start a second career, so he'd be financially ready to retire in a few more years.
It was close to 2300 hours when a slightly drunk Emin said goodnight and left. For a long time, Albert sat on the sofa thinking of Vlad and what a good man he had been.
In order to draw attention from the moving suitcase bomb, the partisans kept their usual pressure on both Edwards and Jackson, suspecting the Russians would notice if they relaxed anyway. Normally, at least once a month the partisans attacked the
bases and then pulled back. They were just reminding the Russians that they were still there and the night belonged to the people of the United States.
It was early evening, and Emin and Albert were sitting outside the Master Sergeants quarters, making small talk, when an explosion sounded. The secondary explosion was even louder and it was coming from the flight line. Knowing the partisans usually struck the base and then pulled out of the area, neither man moved.
“What do you think they struck this time?” Albert asked.
“From the size of the fireball, either a transport aircraft or a fuel truck. Have you screened for radiation sickness?” Emin asked.
“I do not know exactly what all they did to me when I came into the hospital. I was pretty much out of it, and do not know.”
“Well, they have found some of us with messed up white blood cell counts, and we are being sent home for more medical evaluations.”
“You are one of them?”
“Yes, but I feel fine.”
“Not good, because it could be cancer.”
“I do not know, and there is nothing I can do about it anyway. You know how the army works as well as the next man. If I am ill they will retire me, leave me to die, and go recruit more men. As individuals, we mean little to the government.”
“That is the truth. How many of you are to be returned?”
“Over a hundred of us, so far. That does not even count those in Jackson, either.”
“Detonating that bomb was one serious mistake, and there was no need. I personally think the vodka Vasiliev was drinking got to his head. I heard from his aide he was drinking a quart a day. He should have been relieved of command shortly after arriving here.” Albert said.
Then, the base sirens went off.
Screaming to be heard, Emin said, “I need to join my men, we are under attack.”
Laughing, Albert said, “It is the monthly reminder by the partisans they are still here.”