by W. R. Benton
Since he'd made contact with the United States Army at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, about 28 miles west of Rolla, they were all armed with M-16's and decked out like American soldiers, except each wore a yellow armband around their left arm for identification purposes. Ammo, grenades and an old M-60 machine-gun was added to their deadly arsenal. Both Frank and Joda carried 30.06 deer rifles converted into sniper rifles. Most wore helmets, but Frank wore a woodland camouflage boonie hat, while James wore a woodland camouflage beret, with the head of an eagle at the front above his left eye. He called the eagle America, and claimed she saw all that happened.
During and after battles they also recovered UN gear and ammo, which was returned to the main camp with them where they were inspected and cleaned, and would be used on future missions as needed. The men were all military retirees or involved with law in some way. They'd all come from combat arms careers and it showed now, except for Nancy, who was their doctor and nurse.
Thirty minutes later, he parked the van in the trees near the lake at Lions Club Park and moved overland toward Fort Wyman School. From there it was over the hill, then a few blocks to the cemetery. The roadway was clear of traffic and less than an hour later, they were by the old red courthouse with the white trim.
Two new men were with them. John Lynch, a young man of 17 and a cherry on his first mission today, and William “Bill” Shaw, who was a middle-aged vet. Both men were quiet, but Bill would talk if a person got him started.
“Sit here, and let's see what happens next.” James said, applied more camouflage face paint and then pulled out a pair of pilot's Nomex flight gloves. I hope nothing happens, but they will have to call in a big air strike since they announced it on the news, he thought as he removed his beret and ran his hands through his filthy hair. When I return to camp, I need to head to the river and get a bath. I just hate that cold ass spring water.
There was the screeching sound of a jet aircraft and when they all looked up, a fighter bomber was diving toward the center of town. A couple of containers fell from the wings and they looked like fuel tanks. They tumbled as they fell and when they hit the ground, they broke open, sending two huge walls of flames in the direction of travel. The aircraft moved over a bit and released bombs, and finally missiles, into the center of town. Just as he was about to fly off, he turned abruptly, lined up and fired his Gatling guns at something. The bullets striking the street were throwing chunks of concrete over ten feet in the air.
“Napalm! I saw it used in Iraq before, but the press didn't see it. It's some nasty stuff and it kills, obviously, by burning, but also by sucking the air into the fireballs as it burns. We found more than one rag-head in a hole, looking perfectly healthy, except he'd suffocated from a near hit with napalm. If ever under a jet like that, run like hell at 90 degrees from it's flight path. If the fire gets on you, it sticks too, so it's hard to get off or put out.”
No one was aware that the air raid was the result of UN Colonel Gambles' urgent cry for help, and thanks to the arrival of the aircraft, the partisans were moving for the woods and safety.
“Those are Russian fighter aircraft.” Joda said and then added, “See the red stars?”
“Russia is a member of the UN, so we're liable to see any aircraft from any member of that organization.” James said, glanced around the countryside, but saw they were alone.
“Here comes a flight of aircraft and I count three and they look to be Tu-160 bombers. Oh, yes, that's what they are. See the wings and the variable-geometry wing design?” Shaw said. “It reminds me of the F-111s the United States Air Force had in the 60's and 70's, except it's much larger. Seems all our designs end up in Russia and they improve on them.” Shaw said, and then chuckled at his own joke.
“As corrupt as our government used to be, I'd not be surprised if the designs weren't sold to the Russians or traded for a political favor.” James said, as he watched the bombers line up for their approach to the small town. He then thought, The bastards sold our country out to the highest bidder. Even now, it's obvious the President of the United States is on the payroll of the New World Order, or he'd not be pushing their agenda so hard. Taking guns from private citizens and implanting the chip is all wrong. That is something that will never happen in the Conservative States of America.
“Wow, they must carry a bigger payload than a B-52!” Frank said as he glassed the impact point with binoculars.
Joda said, “Three more flights lined up behind this one, but they seem to want to destroy the north side of town now.” The aircraft lined up where the old highway 44 used to run through the edges of town. The university was there, so maybe some partisans were holed up in some of the buildings. Suddenly, tracers from machine-guns began to zip though the air, barely seen in the daylight, but slightly visible. Some struck the big Tu-160's, but didn't seem to cause any serious damage and didn't bring any smoke or flames.
Two small missiles were seen striking near the left wing of one bomber and flames began to run over the wing, trailing out a long distance behind the aircraft, as the crew was seen leaving the aircraft with ejection seats. James noticed the ejection seat seemed to throw the occupant out into space once clear of the aircraft, and then the chute opened almost immediately because of the low altitude, around a thousand feet. One crewman's fully opened parachute was struck by a falling seat, and it became entangled. Even the partisans watched in horror as the man and seat fell to the ground.
Bombs from the aircraft were still exploding on the ground, when Shaw said, “Sound like 500 pound bombs or the metric equivalent. I'd hate to be under that mess!”
“Damn, me,” old man Gator said, “that's a bad way to go.”
“The bombs or falling to your death?” Ben asked.
“Falling like that. I don't think you'd hurt long with bombs tearing you to bits.”
“Look, more missiles!” Nancy yelled, and pointed at another flight of aircraft over the center of town. A good half dozen missiles were seen moving in the air.
“They're so low, I suspect those are handheld missiles and the explosive head is not large.” James said and thought, You have to have some real balls to stand under a flight of aircraft wanting to bomb you back to the stone-age, and fire missiles.
Another aircraft was struck and flames trailed out behind it as the pilot fought for additional altitude. James had heard of aircraft on fire gaining altitude, then diving steeply to put the flames out, only he had no idea what this pilot had in mind. Suddenly, it exploded, tossing live bombs in all directions and creating a huge fireball in the sky. Only one man was seen leaving by ejection seat, and he was seen frantically trying to steer his parachute away from his angle of drift, which was toward the flames.
“Not good,” Nancy said, “he'll land close to his target. I suspect the partisans will kill him in seconds.”
“The others are dropping their bombs!” Gator said, as he pointed to the aircraft.
“They'll kill their crewman that just ejected!” Nancy said, her heart beating fast at what she was seeing happen before her eyes. They must not care! she thought, but said nothing to the others, because they'd seen much more combat than her.
“He's a dead man either way and the other aircraft know he won't survive, even if they fail to bomb. The partisans will shoot him. This way, they can take him out and maybe their target.”
The bombs thrown around wildly by the exploding aircraft began to detonate and they were impacting all around the small group. One exploded close enough that dirt and debris landed on them, which made each hunt a hole.
“Here come some fighter jets.” someone said, but James was unsure who was speaking. He was in a ditch half filled with water as protection from the shrapnel thrown by the big bombs. Glancing around, he spotted explosions far to their left and realized most of the bombs were impacting there.
With the arrival of the fighters, the missile firing ceased. James knew the small fighters were there to provide protection for the big bomb
ers, and so did the leaders of the partisans under the planes. He imagined the resistance was now moving out of Rolla, and quickly. Like him, they'd wait for the destruction to be complete, then return.
Fire from the napalm first dropped was spreading now, or so it looked from where James was; the whole center of town appeared to be in flames.
James stood and said, “I see more aircraft inbound, so let's pull back to the cemetery and let them make a mess of this place. Keep an eye out for assault choppers, because I expect them to be out looking for partisans moving away from the destruction.” He then thought, We'll be lucky not to be seen by a chopper, because the UN is sure to have some working the outer edges of this town.
When he picked up his pack and slipped it onto his back, so did the others. When he turned to walk back to the graveyard they followed, and no one spoke.
At the cemetery, they waited in the abandoned maintenance shacks that were once busy with workers who maintained the property. Deserted now, the offices were dusty and spiderwebs were in the corners of the main room. The grass in the graveyard was long and tall, badly needing cut. Like most veterans, James didn't like to see graves in such poor shape because some of the dead had given their lives in War of Northern Aggression, along with every American war or conflict since. They were deserving of the respect of everyone. However, he knew no one cared much about the dead, when it was hard enough to just stay alive.
Nancy's eyes met his and he saw fear or anxiety in them, only he was unsure which. He suspected it was from watching the aircraft working over the town and knowing they were unable to stop them. Apparently, the United States Air Force had higher priorities than saving Rolla, Missouri. While not prior military, she'd been in a number of fights since this mess had started. As far as he knew, except for the night they'd robbed a pharmacy and downed a chopper, she'd not seen aircraft in action.
“Something bothering you, Nancy?” he asked, and hoped she'd be honest with him.
“T . . . Those aircraft are so destructive they must kill everyone below them.”
“Not really; when I was in England in the early 70's, I spoke with a lot of people who'd been around when the Germans bombed them. Many died, of course, but not as many as you'd think. Plus I've seen cannons, missiles and rockets strike targets on a slope and you'd think everyone on the hill was dead, but very few were. Then in Vietnam, the same thing, more survivors than I thought possible. If you want to be scared, worry about napalm, it's nasty.”
“But, the bombs are so loud and destructive.”
Being honest, he said, “Bombs are hell on structures and the human body, so the key is to get the hell away before they bomb, and once they're gone, go back to where you were.” He then thought, That's what the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese Army taught me. Hell, they did it every day.
Ben, who'd been on guard outside, stuck his head in the door and said, “Choppers, two that I could see for sure. They're sweeping this area, and low, too.”
“Get in here then, and when they pass the cemetery we'll hear them.”
“What if they land or have troops in them?”
“Then we fight, if that's okay with you.” James said, grinned and winked at Nancy.
Most chuckled and a couple grinned at his comment. All they'd done since they sent the women home to Texas was fight.
Ben said, “If the chopper lands they'll have to use the parking lot, because there are too many oak and walnut trees around.”
“Maybe,” James said, “but there are a few places they might sit down around the cemetery. From what I know, they've not been on this side of town yet raising hell, so keep your eyes open. If a chopper lands, Frank, I want you and Joda to take out the pilot and co-pilot. As long as we approach the chopper from the nose, then we'll be safe. The guns are all pointing out the sides.”
“What then, I mean if we kill the crew?” Joda asked, and it was obvious to James the man didn't like the idea much. One slip up and they'd come under heavy attack.
“Once near, I'll throw a grenade under the thing. Once it blows, we grab the machine-guns, ammo and other weapons. The gunners, we'll kill.”
John Lynch looked like he was going to say something, changed his mind, and didn't speak.
Figuring the man didn't like part of the orders, James asked, “What's on your mind, Lynch?”
“Ya mean we can't take them men prisoners? Why all the killin'?”
“First, we ain't got a prisoner of war camp; two, they're not here legally, which makes them invaders of my country, and I have always dealt harshly with my enemies.”
“Most likely the grenade will kill both of them,” Dick said, “if one lands.”
“Don't worry, Lynch, if anyone has any problems doing the killing, I won't at all.”
“They just moved closer, do you hear them?” Ben said and looked up, as if he could see through the roof.
James could see the apprehension in the eyes of all, and knew he'd be the one with the grenade if the chopper landed. Most choppers had door gunners and each had a machine-gun, plus each chopper was armed with missiles. Some had Gatling guns installed in the nose, just under the aircraft. Each of those weapons could turn a person into hamburger in just seconds.
Joda moved to the door, looked out the window and asked, “Hear the difference in pitch? It's going to land in the parking lot, I think.”
“Then you and Frank get your rifles ready. If you don't take out the pilot and co-pilots quickly, I won't be joining you for breakfast in the morning. It's likely any forward facing guns will take me out.”
“Don't worry about us, we'll do what is required, but hope there are no troops on the bird, or you'll have your hands full.” Frank said as he moved toward the window and broke out a pane of glass. He was worried about making a killing shot, because the windows on a chopper usually slanted backward toward the top of the aircraft. He glanced at Joda and saw a worried look in his eyes, too.
A Mil Mi-24D strike helicopter began to lower to the parking lot, less than a hundred feet away. Both snipers smiled and Frank said, “I have a clear view of my man.”
Chapter 4
A Lear Jet aircraft departed the Frankfurt Flughafen runway, wheels rotating up, giving an audible thump when they were secured in wheel wells. The pilot kept the nose up, climbing for altitude as he slowly banked to the left. In the back sat six passengers, and all wore expensive tailored clothing. Adolpha Hanish was deeply tanned, and wore a short red low cut dress that looked like someone had spray painted it on her. She was in one of her moods where she dressed hot, looked hot, and was smoking hot. She leaned forward at times, giving The Boss a good view of her firm breasts. She knew exactly what she was doing, and loved teasing men. Today, she wore no bra, but did have on a red thong, because she loved how sexy a thong made her look and feel. What few people realized, was a few graphic and nasty words whispered in her ear by a man or woman turned her hot and ready—right that instant.
A man named Peter was watching her and loving it. He always enjoyed her being along on business trips because of her beauty. Minutes later, after the aircraft leveled off at around 22,000 feet, The Boss got up and moved to the bathroom. Peter moved and sat right beside her. A few seconds later, he leaned over and whispered what he'd enjoy doing to her.
Instead of being slapped, she smiled and said, “Oh, I love romantic men and love being turned on when they whisper hot things in my ear. As long as they're not teasing me.” She then ran her tongue over her glossy lower lip.
“I'm not a tease and I'll do what I just said, given the opportunity.”
“Keep whispering, and I'll drag you into the bathroom in a few minutes. Here,” she said as she opened her small purse and removed a business card. She handed it to him. “Be there an hour after we land, or I'll find another man. Be prepared to play all night.”
“I'll be there, for sure.” He remained by her side.
“I need all of you to come to the table and let's talk.” the Boss sai
d.
Peter sat beside Adolpha so they could play footsies as they were briefed on the current situation in America.
The youngest man on the aircraft, called Joe, moved to the table and then handed everyone some papers stapled together. The front cover title was “The problem with our current gun confiscation program in America.”
“I thought we were getting guns from those in the United States.” Adolpha, meeting the man's eyes, wished she'd not selected Peter to meet her later. She found this young man more to her liking.
“Yes, ma'am, we are, but most of America is now under the Conservative States of America and they, as a whole, do not buy into the New World Order. They go by CSA, by the way.” Joe said and then thought, For an older woman, she's nice, very nice.
Do we have any control on the CSA at all?”
“None and never will, I am afraid.”
“Oh, and why do we not? Everyone has a price, sir.”
“These people do not and the new President, uh, John Grant, told us to get screwed, but his language was a lot rougher.”
“How much was offered?”
“Five billion dollars.”
“He is a damned fool, then,” The Boss said, “so kill him.”
“I agree.” said another member of the board.
“I see no other option. How many Presidents have they had? Seems like every week I hear a new name.” Adolpha said and leaned forward, giving the young Joe his first nice look at her cleavage. She knew very well she had his attention, but she'd not tease him long on this trip. When leaving the aircraft later, she'd hand him a card with a note on the back. She teased a man to get his attention, then once he acted, she'd deliver what he wanted.