by James Rosone
Bunker Down
Moscow, Russia
National Defense Control Center
President Vladimir Petrov had been sitting in the Central Command Room, going over the progress of the war with his generals and senior advisors for the past hour. On the one hand, they had lost a lot of fighter aircraft throughout the day, which was troubling, considering these were some of their tier-one frontline aircraft. On the other hand, they had also shot down three NATO E-3 aircraft and seriously damaged a number American and NATO airbases. One analyst reported that over 160 fighters aircraft were destroyed on the ground alone.
The admirals were still upset over the loss of so many submarines and surface ships. They had effectively lost nearly 50% of the entire Russian navy in the opening day of the war. On the bright side, they had sunk the Supercarrier George H.W. Bush and several other critically important surface ships. The Americans did not have as large a fleet as they did during the Cold War. Back then, they could absorb losses in carriers and other vessels. However, that was simply not the case in the budget-constrained environment the US found itself in now.
One of the Air Force officers was droning on about the effectiveness of the new S-400 and S-500 defensive systems. “We intercepted 98 cruise missiles throughout the day, preventing the Americans from causing crippling damage to our critical infrastructure and airbases. With the new Lenovo targeting computers, even the S-300 is seeing a significant improvement in effectiveness.”
Petrov was glad to have the good news, but he was also getting bored listening to one officer after the other blather on. Then, as they were discussing tomorrow’s objectives, an alarm began to blare inside the building. Everyone looked up at the ceiling, as if somehow a bomb was about to drop through it.
An officer walked up to the group. “Mr. President, we need to evacuate to the bunker immediately. Our radar just detected a B-2 bomber over Moscow,” he explained hastily. Everyone stood up and began to walk briskly towards one of the stairways to head down to the bunker.
As they were all moving down the halls, the bomb hit the building. It knocked everyone to ground, some falling down the stairs, others able to catch themselves by grasping at the railing. The entire building shook, and they heard a loud explosion. The lights flickered off, then back on before turning off again. The emergency lights kicked in, and everyone began to regain their composure, trying to figure out what to do next.
One of the guards in Petrov’s protective detail helped the world leader off the floor. “We need to keep going this direction,” he said as he pointed towards one of the doors back up on the ground floor level. They collectively ran as a group up the stairs and through that door. The guard continued to lead them to a side entrance that would bring them to one of the underground tunnels connecting to the Kremlin.
The guards then separated the leaders into two groups. Following their continuation of government plan, the President and the military leaders were ushered in one direction and the other political figureheads were whisked off another way. Petrov and the military men were soon racing through the tunnels underneath the city. Within five minutes, they had made their way to a command bunker that was somewhere between the two buildings, roughly 300 feet underground.
As President Petrov walked into the alternative command bunker, he saw officers and other specialists getting the room up and running, turning computers and monitors on, and making sure all the systems were operational. Until they could determine that the President was safe, they would operate out of this bunker, which could run the war, if necessary.
President Petrov walked up to one of the military officers. “I want to know what in the world just hit our building. Is the threat over?!”
Petrov’s cheeks were red and a vein on the side of his neck was visibly pulsating. “These guys were just bragging to me about how effective the new air defense system had been,” he thought, “and then the building alarms started going off. The officers better not be lying to me about how effective the system is, or someone is going to be shot.”
An Army officer dared to take the question. “The defense building has been hit with what appears to have been a bunker busting bomb. It hit the east tower, causing substantial damage. Preliminary reports show that the Central Command Center (where we had all been meeting) was not damaged in the blast. However, until the fires can be brought under control, I highly recommend that we continue to operate out of this command bunker for the time being.”
Everyone seemed pleased that only part of the building had been hit, and not the critical command center in the center of the structure. Had that room been hit, it could have killed them all, along with a lot of the mission-critical personnel currently on duty.
Another Army officer spoke up. “Mr. President, I have a report from the Moscow aircraft defense command on what happened.”
Petrov signaled for everyone to take a seat so the officer could bring them up to speed on what had happened.
Clearing his throat, the Army Colonel began, “The S-500 commander identified a B-2 stealth bomber and engaged it with two missiles. The radar system also identified a total of four guided bombs that we have now determined to be bunker-busting bombs. These were most likely the American GBU-57B, which is a 30,000-pound bomb with roughly a 5,000-pound warhead.”
The room was silent as they all realized how close to death they had all just been.
The colonel continued, “The S-500 was able to intercept two of the bombs, destroying them over the city. A third bomb hit the defense building, and the fourth bomb was apparently thrown off course and landed in a residential area, a couple of blocks away from Red Square. We are still assessing the damage to the residential area, but we expect casualties to be high.”
Petrov interrupted, “--What about the B-2? Did we shoot it down?”
The colonel nodded. “Yes, Mr. President. The bomber was damaged by the first missile from the S-500 battery. The bomber’s stealth system had nearly defeated our traditional targeting systems, but the Lenovo targeting computer was able to get the missile within range of the bomber, causing significant damage to it. This destroyed the bomber’s stealth capabilities and a S-400 battery roughly 100 miles away was able to reacquire the B-2 as a target. They fired two missiles, which successfully destroyed the bomber. The two pilots bailed out of the aircraft, and we currently have search parties out looking for them.”
Everyone in the room was excited by this news. They had successfully shot down an American B-2 over Russia and intercepted three of the four bombs dropped on their beloved city. The new Lenovo targeting computer really was living up to the hype of its creator. The missile still had to have an initial lock on an aircraft to work, but this was promising.
Petrov smiled, letting everyone in the room know that he was pleased with the success of the shootdown of the B-2 and the S-500’s performance. If this was the best the Americans could throw at him, then he was confident Russia would win this conflict. If the Americans thought his country was reeling now, he couldn’t wait to see how they were going to respond to the next phase of operations.
Once in a Movie
Toropets, Russia
400 Kilometers west of Moscow
As Lieutenant Colonel Rob Fortney descended below 7,000 feet, he started to get a good picture of the landmarks below. It was 2200 hours so it was dark, but it was also a full moon, which meant he could still make out some of the fast-approaching landscape. He saw Lake Yassy that he had pointed out to Ricky, and he knew exactly where he needed to go to meet up with his co-pilot. From the darkness below, he also saw the lights from several buildings and houses. His main concern now was making sure he steered himself towards an acceptable landing spot and did not injure himself.
With the ground quickly getting closer and closer, he bent his knees slightly, just as he had been taught. As the terrain rushed up towards him, he landed and rolled to the side, just as they had been told a million times. The technique worked; he spun and then qu
ickly detached his parachute, rolling it up. Once he had it gathered in his arms, he ran towards the forested area where he stashed it inside some bushes. In the daylight it would be found, but at least he had hidden it from plain sight. Now he needed to make his way through the forest, towards the edge of the lake they had identified as their rally point. Then he could wait for his partner to arrive.
After trudging through the woods in the relative dark for roughly thirty minutes, he came to the area of the lake he believed to be roughly where they were supposed to meet and waited. After nearly twenty minutes, he decided to try and use the emergency radio he had. He was reluctant to use it since the signal could be triangulated and give away his position, if the Russians were listening for it. However, seeing that they were in the middle of nowhere, he thought the chances of that happening were relatively small.
Pappi made a couple of attempts on the radio to establish contact with Ricky, but received no reply. Finally, he heard something faintly, but then the sound grew louder. Dogs…they were barking loudly, and then he could hear men’s voices yelling something in Russian. He wished he could understand what they were saying. It was at that moment that Pappi decided he needed to get moving, even if it meant leaving his co-pilot behind. He couldn’t sit there waiting while those dogs and enemy soldiers got closer.
As Pappi made his way through the woods, he came across a small stream. Rather than trying to ford the stream and continue to move through the woods in the direction of Belarus or Latvia, he waded into the stream and proceeded to move with the water. He hoped that by walking through the stream, it would throw the dogs off of his scent. “After a mile or so of walking in the stream, I will return back to dry land and resume my overland trek to freedom,” he thought. “I saw it in a movie once, so it has to work, right?” Although it had been nearly two decades since he had been through SERE school, he thought he vaguely remembered them telling him to do something like this as well.
Three hours went by. His feet were killing him. The sound of the dogs began to drift further away until he no longer heard them. Looking at his watch, he knew it would be dawn in a few more hours. He needed to find a place to rest for a while; he wanted to continue, but after five hours since ejecting from his bomber, he was exhausted. He had been in the air flying for nearly seven hours before he was shot down, and had been awake for nearly that long before his flight. The stress and the long hours he had been working these past several weeks was starting to overtake him. He also knew if he was captured his ordeal would only be beginning, which is why he needed to find a good hiding spot to set himself up and rest.
Breaking News
“This is Brett Mitchel, coming to you live from Moscow’s Red Square, where less than ten minutes ago, the National Defense Control Center just a few blocks away was hit by an American bomb or missile of some sort. A projectile appears to have also hit a nearby residential building, killing hundreds, perhaps even thousands of civilians in their homes. As you can see, there are fires in several sections of Moscow from what we are being told was an American bombing raid on the capital. The images we are seeing are just horrific. Hundreds of building have been evacuated, and smoke continues to billow out of the subway lines here. Stay tuned to RT News, where we will continue to keep you updated on the latest developments as we get them.”
Images of the bombing attack were spreading across the various news outlets and social media sites. They kept showing the part of the National Defense Control Center where the bomb had penetrated the building; the flames and destruction made for good viewer ratings. The apartment building was probably shown even more frequently; there were a lot of clips of rescue workers pulling body after body out of the wreckage of a giant smoldering ruin. As the saying goes in the news, “If it bleeds, it leads.” This was especially true when the victims included children and the elderly.
Retreat
Ukraine
Villages of Voloshynivka and Baryshivka
It was 0200 in the morning as the last soldiers of second platoon, Nemesis Troop, loaded into their remaining vehicles. They were under a tight timeline to get out of the area and fall back to Kiev. The order had finally come down to get out of dodge--it couldn’t have come at a better time. The Russians had pulled back after a brutally failed attack. Childers, for one, was glad someone had finally ordered them to retreat. He was concerned that Lieutenant Colonel Munch would have had them fight on until they were either surrounded or completely overrun.
2nd Lieutenant Taylor hopped into the LATV and signaled for the driver to start driving. Childers looked over at the LT. “So, what did you learn from the colonel?” he asked, hoping to see if he had a better picture of what was going on with the war. It had been a rough 24 hours, and they still had no idea what was going on in the world. All they really knew was they were at war with Russia. They were as starved for information as they were for sleep.
“I wasn’t able to learn much. What had been passed down to him was that all NATO Forces were being pulled back to Kiev where we’ve been ordered to make our stand. He did say that the rest of his division should be in Kiev in the next few hours,” explained Taylor. He sighed deeply. “If it’s all right with you Sergeant, I’m going to try and catch a little bit of sleep. I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any longer.” He leaned his head against the side of the vehicle, falling asleep in mere seconds.
“What I wouldn’t give to know what in the world is going on right now,” remarked SFC Childers out of frustration, speaking to no one in particular. The private who was driving the vehicle just nodded his head and grunted in agreement. Childers was exhausted. He just wanted to get to Kiev in one piece, and hopefully find a quiet place to sleep. Everyone in the platoon was exhausted.
*******
Lieutenant Colonel Brian Munch was exhausted. His ragtag command had finally arrived in Kiev a little after 0420 in the morning, exhausted and beaten up. The Russians had only tried to attack them once by air. A group of Su-27s had swooped in and taken out several of his tanks and Stryker vehicles. He also lost two of his Avenger air-defense vehicles, but not before they shot down two Su-27s. He felt lucky the Russian armored forces didn’t press home the attack. If he were the Russian commander in charge, he certainly would have, but he was glad they gave him a bit of a reprieve.
Once they entered the outskirts of the city, the first thing LTC Munch ordered the units to do was to find out where the other NATO forces were. He wanted to know if his forces were needed elsewhere before they could get settled in and finally get some rest.
When they entered Boryspil, Munch saw the devastation of the international airport and the NATO side of the airport. He also observed that a German armored brigade was well-entrenched and ready to meet the Russians when they showed up; fortunately, the German unit was fresh, having just arrived the previous evening. He also saw the remnants of the American units, mostly the 82nd Airborne’s 2nd Brigade Combat Team, which had arrived the day before hostilities started. The 173rd Airborne Brigade Combat Team, was still held up at the Pryluky Airbase.
As they passed through the German/American positions, LTC Munch ran into a US Brigadier General, Matt Fenzol, the Deputy Commander of the 82nd Airborne. “I want to commend you on your gallant effort in stopping the Russians the day before. I want your soldiers to take up a position in the forested area around Prolisky, and get some rest as soon as possible…that’s an order. I will be holding a leadership meeting at 1300 hours, so I want you and your officers to be present, but not before you get at least four hours of sleep. I must insist that you all get some sleep…otherwise you all will be useless.”
LTC Munch didn’t fight General Fenzol at all. Most of his ragtag group had been awake and in combat for nearly 48 hours. He needed them rested and ready to meet the Russian force that would probably hit their positions sometime this evening.
*******
Sergeant Childers made sure the rest of second platoon had their vehicle camouflage netting up an
d their vehicles hidden from any potential air attacks. Once that was done and the bulk of his troops were getting some much-needed rest, he found a quiet spot where he could also get a few hours of shuteye. He crawled underneath the LATV he had been sitting in for most of the evening and morning, and quickly fell asleep.
Several hours later, he was jolted awake by the violent shaking of the earth by a bomb that went off nearby. As his senses came back to him, he heard the unmistakable sound of an explosion and someone yelling that they were under an air attack. Luke grabbed his rifle off the ground next to him, searched for one of the hastily-dug slit trenches that the engineers had dug a few hours ago, and swiftly dove in. As he laid there in anticipation, he could hear multiple jets overhead, several heavy caliber machine guns firing away, and the unmistakable sound of more bombs falling towards them.
Boom, boom, crump! Bang! Flame, dirt and shrapnel were flying in all directions, cutting off radio antennas on the vehicles, ripping flesh from bone, and damaging everything in the camp. The attack did not last long, but it accomplished its goal of damaging the American positions and killing more soldiers.
Once the explosions ended, Childers got out of the trench. A couple of his soldiers were pointing upward, and he followed their line-of-sight to see a Russian pilot slowly drifting to the ground on a parachute. Apparently, his plane had been shot down during the attack. As he drifted into the woods, several of the soldiers in his platoon ran after him.
“Come on Sergeant Childers, we need to capture him!” shouted one of the soldiers as he took off running towards the woods.
Luke knew he better go with these young soldiers and supervise the capture of this Russian aviator before his soldiers beat him to death. As he ran after them, he came to the clearing. Sure enough, he saw four of his soldiers kicking and stomping on the Russian pilot as he tried to curl up in a ball to protect himself. “Enough!” he yelled. “All you, back off right now before I write you up and strip you of your rank!” SFC Childers yelled as he pulled one of the soldiers back and threw another one to the ground.