The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2) (31 page)

It was shortly after midnight, when Sandra, who'd been on point said, “I have a house in front of me, and I see a light inside.”

“Did you spot anyone moving around?”

“Not outside, but I saw two different men walk by the window.”

“Well, it ain't Russians, or a guard would have been posted.”

Tom said, “It could be a different cell, so do we knock on the door or what?”

“You can knock on the door if you want; I don't think I'd try it, because they'll likely shoot your ass.”  John replied.

“Why don't we stay behind shelter and call out to them?  If we can explain who we are, they might let us stay the night.”  Margie said, and then wiped the rain from her face.

“Okay, we'll do as Margie suggests, because I can't think of a safer way to do this.  I'll go forward with Margie.  John, you stay here with Mollie, Sandra and Dolly.  Once we're inside, we'll come back for all of you.  If you hear shooting, don't join us, because we'll try to withdraw.”

“When do you want to do this?” Margie asked.

“Why not right now?  The longer we stand here the wetter we'll get, if that's possible.”  John said and then added, “Come on.”

He let her lead and near the edge of the trees was an old farmhouse that was way overdue a paint job, and some of the windows were broken.  The light was clearly seen in what may have been the living room.  

John called out, “Hello the house.  We're needing shelter from the rain.”

Minutes passed before a voice said, “Keep walkin', we're full for the night.”

“Do you know Willy Williams?  If not, how about Top?”

Again, it was a couple of minutes before the same voice said, “One of you move toward the door.  If we see more than one, we'll start shooting.  I want no weapons on you, which means no pistols or rifles, understand?”

Handing his rifle to Margie, he stuck the pistol in the small of his back and stood.  Even in the darkness, he felt vulnerable as hell.  “I'm coming in, but keep your fingers off the triggers.”

“Come.”

He walked across the clearing, half expecting to be killed any second, and when he stepped on the porch and it gave a loud groan, he cringed at the noise.  The door opened and short man with a shotgun said, “Get in here.”

John entered but remained by the door.

“Hell, James, that's John and I know him well.” Top said with a big grin.

“Can I bring my people in, Top?  It's pretty wet out there.”

“Sure, John.  You did it properly, James, but John's a good man and one of our cell leaders.”

John pulled the pistol from his back and placed it back in his holster.  Top broke out laughing and said, “Still don't trust worth a shit, do ya, John?”

“Nope, never have and never will, I guess.  How have you been doing?”

“Not so good.  Here about, oh, a week back a chopper caught us on a hill in the middle of the night.  I suspect they were using thermal imagery, because they shot us to hell and back.  Out of twenty, five of us survived the attack.  But, that was miles from here.”

“Tom and I were talking about the same subject earlier.  Do we have anything to protect us at all?”

“Not really, not as far as I know.  I'm to meet up with Willy in a couple of days, so why don't y'all hang around and go with us?”

“I think I'll do just that.”

L
ieutenant Dyomin stood looking at the garage where his men had set off the grenade planted by John, and the young officer was seething.  He'd warned the first troops in the door to do the job slowly and to check for danger as they moved, but they'd kicked the door in and entered in a rush.  A few seconds later came the explosion and he had three dead men to place on the truck beside the dead tank commander.

Damn fools.  Do they think the Americans are idiots?  I have stressed we are fighting well trained soldiers, but they cannot accept that in their small brains
,  Dyomin thought as he watched a squad of men returning from the woods.  He'd sent them after the team tracking the Americans and from what he could see, they'd been killed or seriously wounded.  Just the fact that bodies were being packed out and the dog was nowhere to be seen, added to his apprehension.

Senior Sergeant Delov, leading the group, walked to the Lieutenant and said, “Three more dead men and we lost our dog, too.  I found where a single man waited to ambush them.  The tracks indicate he had a dog with him.  Our dog had blood on his teeth and head, but a pistol killed him.  To me, it means we have at least injured their dog.”

“Vetrov will shit!  We have seven dead men and all we did was injure a dog?  We must have better results or the Colonel will start taking heads.  I want these men to break into small groups and search for the partisans.”

“Which group do you want me to join, sir?”

“You stay with me.  Make sure each group has a radio, plenty of ammunition, and rations for a few days.  Stress to them we must find the Americans and the group that finds them will be greatly rewarded.  I want your experience behind the communications, so we have some control on each group.”

“What kind of reward, sir, because they will surely ask?”

“Promise them women, vodka and a few days off.  I have yet to see an infantryman who did not enjoy that sort of thing.  Also, tell them Colonel Vetrov will mention them by name in communications with Moscow and a medal can be provided, as well as a promotion.  We have got to start doing better or we will all end up in a prison someplace.”

Delov came to attention and asked, “Will that be all, sir?”

“No, contact the flying squadron and have them keep a helicopter in the air at all times, night and day.  If possible, try to get a bird or two with thermal imaging capability, so we can go on the offense.  We must be aggressive without being stupid, and thorough without being slow.  The aircraft are not to attack the partisans, but radio the locations to us.  I want us to get the credit for killing the Americans, not the helicopter crews.”

“Yes, sir, I fully understand.  I will take care of your request immediately.”  The Senior Sergeant replied.  
Typical officer, wants the credit for the kills when the aircraft could just fire one missile or use his cannons to kill a houseful of partisans.  It is all politics for officers, and I am glad to be enlisted.

Waving his hand, to indicate to Delov to handle the situation, Dyomin thought,
In the time they have been gone from here, even if they walked fast with no breaks, they must be within twenty miles.  I will have the crews start twenty miles out and work inward.  We will either check each building or send a missile into it.  If I handle this properly, I am sure to make at least one promotion out of this war, or an early death.

The radioman and Delov walked to the Lieutenant, where the radio operator handed the headset to him and said, “The operations officer for the squadron wants to speak with you, sir.  He needs some additional information about where to start this search.”

Dyomin quickly explained his idea to the Major on the other end of the radio and then waited for a reply.  He knew the operations officer had to get the commander's approval before the search would start.  

Finally, the Major said, “We will start looking today.  We currently have three aircraft with thermal capabilities, but two are down for maintenance.  I expect to have all three in the air before the end of the week.”

“Good.  I appreciate your assistance, sir, and I think by working together we can achieve a great deal of success against the partisans.”

“We shall see, Lieutenant, but you have our support.”

Dyomin replied, “Thank you, sir.”  He handed the headset to the radioman and then said, “Get the teams moving and do it now.”

As the teams walked in the general direction of John and his small group, Delov wondered,
How many of these men will return alive?  Most of my soldiers are boys and this game is about to become deadly.

The radio operator yelled out, “Lieutenant Dyomin, we are to return to base right away by order of Colonel Vetrov.”

“Load up the remaining men and let us move!”

Colonel Vetrov was in his office, his right arm in a sling and in pain, but the war was not going well for him.  Over the last few weeks he'd lost well over a hundred men and had killed less than a dozen Americans, including the prisoner they'd had.  His aircraft kept breaking down, his motor pool was having vehicle problems, and supply had yet to provide winter gear for his troops.  He had a list of problems on a sheet of paper in front of him and beside it, on the same paper, a list of things going well.  He had two things going well that he'd identified; his troops were all healthy and the attacks on the trains had ceased.  He was unsure if the attacks had stopped because he now placed a tank on a flatcar to protect the trains, or if the partisans had moved on to other ripe targets.

Lieutenant Dyomin stood at attention in front of Vetrov and nervously licked his lips.  The Colonel had exploded when told of the deaths of seven more men, but then grew quiet.  It was the silence that scared the young officer.

“So, you have how many teams out searching for the American's, Lieutenant?”

“Twelve, sir, and I think by using the helicopters and my men, we can at least find the partisans.  Then, working together we can kill them and maybe even get a prisoner or two.”

Vetrov looked at his papers, shook his head and then said, “Dyomin, I hope you realize both of our careers are riding on your teams right now.  I am damned sure if we do not have some good word for Moscow soon, heads will roll, and they'll start with ours.”

“Y—yes, sir.”

“I want a helicopter to take you to a team, so you can keep an eye on how things are done.  I also want Delov dropped off with another team.  Now, listen to your Senior Sergeant, because he has been in the army longer than you have been alive.  That means use the radio before you fight, and I want you to stress to your men that the partisans are experts with mines and booby-traps.  Do you fully understand what your orders are?”

“Yes, sir, and I will discuss all plans of attack with my sergeant before I take any action.”

“Good.  When you are in the field, keep in mind I will fully support you and if you have need of something, let me know.  We must take the offensive and start improving our partisan body count, or our careers are over.  I've warned you of our careers twice in this meeting, because the situation right now is most grave.”

“I will do my best, sir.”  Dyomin replied and knowing the conversation was over, he saluted and left the room.

He found Delov talking to a guard at the prison camp gate and informed him of the Colonel's orders, leaving out he was to discuss any attack plans with the sergeant.  He then said, “Arrange a helicopter, just one, to take us both into the field as soon as possible.  We'll be delivered to two different groups.  Once on the ground, contact me, and let me know you're in place and ready.  Then, hopefully, we can find our targets.”

Thirty minutes later, both men were in flight.  Delov was dropped off first, to a group of men near a creek, and Dyomin was released on the edge of a large field.  The temperature was cool, but not really cold, and a light rain fell.  After he'd been on the ground for half an hour, Delov contacted him and informed him they were moving.  

Slowly the rains increased in intensity and all teams were forced to seek shelter for the night.  Most of Dyomin's men felt uncomfortable with the young officer along and they complained about it among themselves as they made shelters from their shelter-halves.  A guard was placed and the rest turned in for the night, some too tired to even eat.

It was near four in the morning when Dyomin was awakened by the radio operator. “Sir, one of the helicopters reports movement about 3 miles from us.”

The Lieutenant took the headset and spoke for a few minutes with the crew.  Finally he smiled, handed the headset back and said, “Get the men up and ready to move.  One of the aircraft with thermal imaging discovered a man coming and going from a rundown house near us.  It seems he was looking for, or collecting, wood for a fire.”

A junior sergeant, who'd been the leader the day before, asked, “How many men are at this house, sir?”

“They have no idea how many are in the house; the images would be blocked by the building, but if they saw one clearly, there will be more inside.  The aircraft cannot see inside buildings or other structures well and my guess would be less than ten men.  Most of the cells we have run into have between six and ten men, right?”

“Hell, I have no idea, sir.  I have yet to see a partisan, but I know they are good with mines and booby-traps.”

“You will see some this morning, Sergeant, and that's a promise.  Get the men up and moving.  I want them to eat and be ready to leave in less than an hour.”

“Yes, sir.”  The Sergeant replied and began waking his men.

A little more than an hour later, the Lieutenant called the helicopter crew and asked them to stand by as they carried out the assault on the house.  He was informed by the pilot that he had enough fuel to remain overhead, and another aircraft was to join him at sunrise.  Dyomin grinned, because two choppers almost guaranteed success.