“I’ll tell you this. If you go and get yourself killed I am never going to speak to you again,” she said trying to maintain a serious look on her face.
“But I will talk to you. I will come back every night to see if someone else in is your bed and scare the daylights out of him,” Yegor said.
“Figures you would want to protect that part of me,” she said.
~~
It was going to be another long journey over rough roads and even slower this time because of the older trucks they were using. The convoy left early the next morning and Yegor had mixed feelings about going. To some extent Matryona was right. There could be complete chaos and one thing Russia had was an abundance of people that thought they should be in charge.
The first day was even worse than he had imagined. Three of the trucks suffered some form of mechanical failure that wasted four hours. By nightfall they had only gone a little over three hundred kilometers. It was more than just the time away from the complex; it was not being in touch that worried him the most. He knew Captain Andreev would keep everyone on task. It was the lack of up to the minute information that he missed most. They simply had to have communications up and running if anything was going to be achieved.
Things went better the second day with only one truck having a flat tire. The delay was minimal and they were able to put five hundred kilometers behind them.
To save time he sent one truck on ahead to salvage diesel fuel and to have it ready to replenish the trucks. Doing that saved even more time and they made close to six hundred kilometers on the third day.
Another day like this one and we will reach the outskirts of Moscow, Yegor thought. On the sixth day the lead truck came racing back to report that they had reached the outskirts of Moscow and the road had been barricaded.
“Who barricaded it?” Yegor wanted to know.
“We don’t know. We didn’t want to give anything away in case you wanted a surprise attack or had something in mind that we might giveaway,” the sergeant replied.
“Very good. That was a good decision. You are correct; we want to have a lot more information before we approach the barrier. You go on back but stop far enough out so they will not hear our approach. We can then send a reconnaissance team to see what is going on,” Yegor said.
“Sounds like we may have a little problem on our hands Lieutenant Kronowski said after the truck left.
“Yes. I was hoping we would be able to just go in and have a look around and see what needed to be done but it looks as if that will not be possible.”
“It never is as easy as it sounds,” Kronowski replied.
Lieutenant Kronowski was a fearless fighter. He embodied the spirit associated with the Russian Cossacks of long ago. He came from six generations of military men that had fought in every war and revolution. Kronowski had served in Afghanistan and the Chechen wars and held medals for International Warrior, The Federation Hero Medal for service in Afghanistan, Distinguished Military Service First Class, The Order of Service to the Homeland, and what seemed to be an oxymoron, The order of the Defense of Freedom.
He was one of those rare officers that know how to not only inspire his men to fight on when all seemed lost, but was quick thinking enough to know when to retreat and fight another time. Killing the enemy was what he believed was his real mission, not to die to prove a point. The only thing that kept him from advancing in rank was the same character trait that Yegor possessed.
He was blunt and an outspoken critic of ill-conceived plans and appalling tacticians. He was not afraid of the fight but those who planned them stupidly were his biggest enemy. They would not be the ones that would face death when the time came. Their glory would come with the blood of the common soldier.
Yegor had liked Kronowski within minutes of meeting him. He would speak his mind but still listen to reason.
“We will need to send a scout team in to see what is happening. The biggest problem is how they should present themselves, as civilian survivors or military survivors,” Yegor said.
“Either way is risky. I think we should have them scout out the barricade and poke around and see if they can determine who put it there and why.”
“Yes, but if they get spotted, how they are dressed may make a difference in their chances for survival.”
“Then I suggest we send a second reserve unit that is close by so that if necessary they can attack or help our people escape.”
“You are in charge of this mission. I will accept your judgment,” Yegor said.
“Thank you sir.”
“For what? Letting you do what you do best?”
“Not many commanders would allow someone else to determine the plan without putting their stamp on it.”
“I am fresh out of stamps. Get your teams together as quickly as possible and let’s see what is going on,” Yegor said.
“Yes sir General,” Kronowski replied and hurried off.
This was one problem he was certainly willing to delegate. Kronowski was a proven warrior under combat conditions. Within thirty minutes Kronowski had his observation team in position.
“What do you see?” Kronowski asked.
“Three men on the left about 10 meters from the barrier. Two men and a woman are on the right side. Looks to be about 15 meters.”
“Armed?”
“Da, they have Kalashnikovs. Typical new military AK-74s. Nothing heavy. They have on uniforms but they are sloppy looking and do not act like a military unit. They are smoking, drinking and making a lot of noise.”
“Interesting. Anything else?’
“We could flank them and take them out in a few minutes if you want.”
“Take them alive and try to not use your weapons unless absolutely necessary. Don’t risk your lives but do the best you can,” Kronowski said.
“Understood.”
The Sargent relayed the information to his men. They divided into two groups and then slowly worked their way around behind the defenders.
“Try to take them alive,” the Sargent reminded them as they readied their attack.
Almost as suddenly as it started it was over. The defenders were easily overpowered. Within minutes they were standing in front of General Nitikin bound and gagged.
“Remove the gags,” Yegor said to one of the men.
“I am General Nitikin of the Russian Federation Military Forces. Who are you and why are you out here blocking the road?” he asked. None of them spoke up.
“One of you is going to tell me what I want to know. I’m not sure which one yet but one of you will so why not save us some time and tell me now?” Yegor said.
Still no one said anything. They all stood looking down at the ground.
“Why is it Lieutenant Kronowski that people think they can keep information to themselves? What causes that type of mentality?”
“Stupidity mostly. They see the brave men in shows and believe they are that kind. It does seem silly to me to be tortured and take a beating for nothing, in the end they will still spill their guts. Is that what is going have to happen here?” Kronowski asked, lifting the chin of one of the prisoners.
“We will tell you nothing,” the man said trying to sound fearless.
“I’ll tell you what. I bet someone will tell me everything I want to know and possibly some things I don’t care a damn about. And, they will do it in less than five minutes. Would you care to wager on that?”
The man just glared at the Lieutenant. Kronowski looked over at the General and Yegor shrugged and held his hands up. Hardly moving a muscle, the Lieutenant pulled out his pistol and shot the man blowing brains over the wall behind him. The man gurgled once and fell to the ground, blood gushing out of what once was his head.
“You know what else hurts?” he said to the next man.
I got shot in the leg once and it still hurts to this day when the weather changes. Now I want you to tell me who you are and what you are doing barricading the road.”
“
This is crazy. You can’t just kill people,” the man yelled at Kronowski.
“Fine,” Kronowski and shot the man in the meaty part of his thigh just next to his crotch. Blood splattered back on the Lieutenant and the man shrieked, writhing in pain.
“Stop him, he is crazy. Don’t let him do this. Please, I beg you. Stop this,” he yelled trying to stem the flow of blood from wound.
“You seemed to have missed,” the Sargent said.
“Pulled instead of squeezed. I’ll do better next time I’m sure. Once more I am going to ask you. If I get no answer you will not have to worry about any more trivial pain. The next shot will be in your balls you stupid ass,” the Lieutenant said squatting down and placing the barrel of the gun on his groin.
“Stop. I beg you. You are killing me. Why would you do this to me?” he screamed.
“I’m not doing anything to you. You are doing this to yourself. Who are you and why are you here on the road? Two simple questions. Last chance,” the Lieutenant said.
“Wait. Wait. We are from the People’s Democratic Republic. We are members of the New Freedom Army. We are assigned to keep the highway into Moscow closed until we are sure they are not the Russian Military,” he moaned.
“The People’s Democratic Republic. I’m not familiar with that particular group. You are civilians who have decided to take over Moscow and declare it a Democratic Republic, is that about it?”
“Something like that.”
“What happened to the Military personnel that have shown up in Moscow?” Yegor said.
“They were either shot or stripped of everything and sent away or they could join our forces. Those were the choices they were given.”
“You killed Military soldiers? Russian Federation soldiers?”
“We will not live like scared chickens again. We are armed and will fight for our freedom,” he said, through clenched teeth.
“How many are armed?”
“All of them. Everyone is willing to die rather than to go back to the system we had before,” he told them.
“How many?” Yegor asked.
“Over two thousand,” he said smugly and tried to look defiant.
Yegor looked at the Lieutenant and raised his eyebrows.
“Who are the leaders of this Republic of your?”
“Chancellor Vladimir.”
“Chancellor? Fancy title. And this Chancellor of yours, where can we find him?”
“I don’t know. He moves around. Few of us ever actually see him. He just gives the orders and the others follow.”
The Lieutenant turned to one of the men and told him to get a doctor to look at the prisoner.
“I will talk to each of you separately. You saw what just happened. You will talk and you will tell me everything I want to know or you will end up like your friend here,” the Lieutenant said.
The Lieutenant spent the next four hours interrogating the prisoners. He did not find out as much as he had hoped, nevertheless, much of the information was useful.
“The second man was right. They all agree that there are over two thousand armed citizens. They have roadblocks every so often on all the roads leading into Moscow. They are told to capture or kill any military men or women. They are mostly focused on eliminating the officers. Lower rank soldiers are given a choice of joining, being shot, or sent off with nothing. Not a lot of grey area. You are in or out, it’s as simple as that. The so called Chancellor, is Sergey Vladimir. He was in the military at one time but was dismissed because of his inability to take orders from senior officers. Now he has declared himself the new leader of Russia. The so called army is located in the buildings around Red Square and in the Kremlin itself. They have some medium duty weapons, mostly machine guns and a few mortars,” he told the General.
“I see no way to dislodge them with their tactical advantage and superior fire power. I think we are going to have to send for more men.”
“It would be the best thing to do,” the Lieutenant agreed, “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“We were to dress in civilian clothes and simply walk into the city. They would never know who we were if we blended in. We would go in small groups. Once inside we could find this so called Chancellor Vladimir and eliminate him,” the Lieutenant replied.
“I don’t know. That is very risky. They could have a password that allows them to come and go or some other method of recognition.”
“Yes, it is quite a risk but what information we need we can find out easily enough from our prisoners,” Kronowski said, “We should leave ten men here as a reserve. We may need their help if we have to fight our way out of the city.”
“I agree. We will leave Sargent Trovlavich in charge of the reserve unit.”
“Trovlavich? Surely you don’t intend to go into the city yourself.”
“I certainly do. I cannot send you and the other men into the city and sit here on my butt.”
“But sir. We cannot risk having something happen to you,” the Lieutenant said.
“Why? Am I worth so much more than you or any of the other men? Not really. In fifty years no one will even remember my name, or yours for that matter. I have never asked my men to do something that I would not do myself.”
“Begging the General’s pardon but this is crazy. You are putting yourself at risk needlessly. We can do this without having to worry about you.”
“Worry about me? I don’t understand,” the General said looking puzzled.
“With you along I would spend half my time making sure you were safe rather than spending all my time on the objective. Sir, you will be a distraction for me and the men.”
The General leaned against the truck, pulling on his lower lip. This was completely against his nature. He had always been the first into battle. He had always felt that leadership could only be facilitated by being in the thick of things. It had never occurred to him that he could actually be a hindrance.
“Alright Lieutenant. I’ll stay here with the reserve unit but if you are not back in three days we are going to come in and get you.”
“That is a wise decision. I understand how you operate. I have studied your career and know you are fearless and a man of action. This does not diminish your leadership in anyway,” the Lieutenant said.
It was almost surreal. Lieutenants did not speak so freely to Generals in the Russian Army but somehow it seemed perfectly natural. It was as if two friends were talking rather than a superior officer talking to a subordinate.
“Pick the ones you want to take then and let’s get this operation going,” the General said.
“Sir, I hope I didn’t offend you by speaking so frankly,” Kronowski said.
“No offence taken. I enjoy your candor. We are much alike, you and I.”
~~
“Remember what I have told you. Space your arrivals. You have come from Kiev where you were workers on the new Grichinko Tunnel that is being built. No more than six or seven to a group. You are tired and hungry. You have seen some other stragglers on the road but they did not join you and you have no idea where they went. Do not do anything stupid. I will be in the last group so all you have to do is bide your time until I arrive. We will go from there. Any questions?” he asked.
“Good. The prisoners said that they were the only blockade on this road leading into Moscow but do not be surprised if you find another. Just keep calm and stick to your story. Now, the first group, move out.”
The first five men started up the road and Kronowski waited twenty minutes before he sent the second group. He had decided to space them out at different intervals so as to not raise suspicion. He was in the last group with five others. They walked at a steady pace but slowed down when he spotted the group in front of him. He wanted to yell at them to pick up the pace but decided that it would not be a good move so they lingered for several minutes on the side of the road. He was fighting to keep his emotions in check. Few things bothered him more than a plan that was not keepin
g to the schedule.
They finally set off again and it wasn’t long before he found out why the other group had slowed down. They came around a corner just on the outskirts of the city and found a formidable roadblock. Twenty men with AK-74s were standing behind several cars and trucks that blocked the road.
“Keep walking slowly. Don’t get excited,” he whispered as they approached the obstruction.
“Halt,” one of the men yelled, pointing his weapon at them. They stopped, and stood in the middle of the road. Kronowski put his hand to his mouth and whispered ‘now’ and one of the men collapsed, unmoving.
“Please, we are tired and hungry. Are you the Federation Army?”
He could hear a chorus of laughter.
“Net, we are not the stinking Federation Army. We are the free people of Moscow,” the man said.
“Please. We wanted to find food and a place to rest. We have come a long way.”
“Are you with the others from Kiev?”
“Da. You know of us? We are tunnel workers.”
“They told us others were coming. You will each come forward, one at a time and be searched,” he ordered.
“Хорошо,” Kronowski replied, “I will go first.”
It only took a few minutes for them to be frisked and allowed to pass.
“You said you are not the Army. Are we safe here?
“Da. We are now the Army. Anyone that wants to stay in Moscow must join the New Freedom Army.”
“New Freedom Army? I don’t understand. Who is in charge of this Army? How do we join?” Kronowski said, looking bewildered.
“It will all be explained when you get to Freedom Square.”
“What is that?”
“What was once Red Square. You are to report there for further instructions.
“How do we get there?” Kronowski asked.
“Do you know anything about Moscow?”
“Nothing. I was here once as a young boy but that was many years ago.”
“Go straight up this road and when you get to Gromyko Boulevard go right. It will take you close enough that you can see the square. Go there and signs will direct you to the indoctrination center,” he was told.
THE BEGINNING Book Two (THE EVENT) Page 19