The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2) (34 page)

He'd remembered where empty LAW containers left behind were booby-trapped, so he'd always carry out all he carried in, but it was lighter now with the rocket fired.

Lieutenant Dyomin was mad as hell as he watched his men help extinguish the burning men and knew he'd not only lost more men, but a helicopter as well.  He had a number of dead before the chopper was hit, and now he had a good six or seven more to add to the total.  He'd caught sight of the rocket just a split second before it struck, and was surprised, not thinking the Americans had any defense against aircraft.  It'd been a costly learning experience, so from now on, he'd send in choppers first, and then his men would do a body count after the attack.  He also knew he needed some mine detector teams along to clear the way through the protective rings around the houses.  
So, you've grown smarter, have you?  It will do you little good against the might of Mother Russia.  How many men or helicopters I lose matters little to me, because the end is what matters
, he thought, not realizing he was starting to think like a real Russian commander.

The radio man neared and said, “The second helicopter said we have to return to the point we inserted before he'll do an extraction now.  He seems to think this place is ringed with more rockets.”

“Tell him we will withdraw to the pickup point and for him to remain ready to assist us on the way back.  Sergeant Norkin!”

“He is dead sir, along with Senior Sergeant Delov.  Both were burned so badly they could not survive, so the medic put them to sleep.”

“Private Antipin, take point and lead us back to where we started this whole mess.”

“Yes, sir.”  And, as he turned and started walking, the men lined up behind him for the trip out.  All went well, until they were about fifty yards from the spot they were inserted, and being a little off the trail was intentional by the man walking point.  The last thing he wanted was to step on a mine on his way back to the base.  He had no way of knowing even the sides of the trails had been mined and booby-trapped, and for this very reason.

He'd just taken a step, when his foot struck a treadle board and before he could react, the opposite end of the trap swung up and four sharpened stakes entered his chest.  He screamed and struggled against the fire-hardened stakes, but they were barbed and three of them had passed through his chest.  Sticking from his back, the bloody points were a reminder to all near him that they were not safe yet.  The medic neared and inserted a fatal amount of morphine into Antipin, knowing there was nothing he could do to help the man.  
He will die anyway, so I will end his pain.

“You,” Dyomin said, pointing a private standing near, “take the point, and watch where you put your feet or you will be the next one to go home in a metal box.”

J
ohn sat at the table as Willy had a small staff meeting at the kitchen table.  The shooting down of a chopper was great news, and Willy kept shaking his head at the thought.  

Finally, John said, “My dad was career army and I got the idea from him.  Seems during the Vietnam War, the Viet Cong shot at our helicopters with damned near anything they could find, including rocket propelled grenades.  I figure if a grenade would do the trick, a rocket for damned sure should work.”

“Oh, I'd heard stories like that, mostly at a table in the club as the old sergeants told war stories.  I guess you taught us something new today, huh?”

“What has me concerned is this; I may have caused the Russians to change tactics now, and I don't think we'll find any choppers coming near houses, unless it's to fire on them.”

Willy asked, “Sergeant Thomas, please tell John what you know about Thermal Imagery.”

A new man to the small group said, “I'm a sniper and at times I have to hide from the choppers that I suspect can see in the dark.  In Afghanistan, the bad guys learned to hide from infrared and thermal equipped aircraft by covering themselves with wool blankets.  It's not real good in the long run, because eventually heat will start to become visible as it leaks from the edges of the blanket.  However, if they only make a pass or two, well, it works.  If they stay looking for you, then they'll likely be looking for human forms and not just heat.  Now, I know that sounds iffy, but it's the best idea we've come up with yet.  The real key is how well trained the man on the other end is, how determined they are to get your ass, and how much fuel and time they want to spend in one area looking.”

“Thanks, Thomas, we'll give it a try.”

“Oh, and don't wear the blanket, or it'll be 'hot' from your body heat.  I carry mine tied loosely on the top of my pack.  When I need it, I pull it from my pack and throw it over me.”

Willy grinned and said, “I've sent word to all cells that we will no longer defend houses against attacks, because like John, I suspect the Russians will use aircraft against structures now.  I want everyone to bug out when an attack is imminent.  We will, however, always leave one man behind with a LAW, to attempt to down a bird.  If we can start taking out choppers, it'll worry the hell out the Russians.”

“Sounds good to me,” John said and then added, “but the man left behind better have some big balls, because it scared the living hell out of me.”

“Oh, the commander at Jackson is about to go on a tour of other bases, to meet the commanders, so it's a grip and grin tour, and to check their readiness to combat us.  Our intelligence section now has a few men and women working on the inside, doing manual labor or jobs the Russians don't want to do, like burning shit, cleaning hospital patients, or filling sandbags.  One such man saw a folded paper drop from the Colonel's jacket, as he got into a car, and brought it to us straight away.  It was his complete schedule for the trip, as well as the names of those going with him.  It seems he flew to Edwards a long while back for an extended visit, and now intends to travel back by car.  I think John's use of the LAW has him concerned.”

“It'll be too big a convoy for us to tackle.” John said.

Willy laughed and replied, “He'll be traveling with a motorcycle in front and one in the rear.  He'll be riding in a liberated car, with three other men.  There is a Major Galkin, which we think is his air operations officer, and Lieutenant Dyomin, who seems to just be an infantryman.  The driver will be a Private Aptekar and riding security, or shotgun, is a Master Sergeant Belonev.  They'll leave in three days.”

“What do we know about any of those men?” Sergeant Thomas asked.

“One of our contacts, who cleans up patients in the hospital that mess their pants or pee the bed, said both Vetrov and Belonev were hospitalized recently, due to the night attack John and his group did on the prison camp.  Both had gunshot wounds and are almost fully recovered now.  The Major is a big drinker of Vodka and consumes about a pint a day, so we know his reflexes will be slow, as well as his mind.  The Lieutenant is just your normal ground pounder, and he will be the most dangerous one in the group.  The driver, Aptekar, I'd imagine, is some poor bastard they ordered to drive, but he does work for the Lieutenant.”

“What are the chances the schedule might change, I mean when the Colonel realizes he's lost his itinerary?”  Tom asked.

“He might change it, hell anything is possible, but a visit like this takes a lot of coordination.  Commanders have to be available, motorcycle escorts and vehicles lined up, billeting and feeding of the visitors has to be established by each base, so I think he'll change nothing.  If he's not left the base recently, then I suspect he'll know it fell from his pocket and think it was lost on the base.  He likely feels he's got a good handle on base security, so he'll not suspect we know anything about it.  But, if he changes the schedule, we'll show by the road each night until he does leave.  Any questions?”

John said, “Do we know the time he'll leave?”

“At dusk, 1700 hours, but we want our attack to occur under the full cover of darkness, so we'll hit him about halfway to Jackson, his first stop.  I suspect, since the man is based in Jackson, he'll want to pick up a few more men to take along, and that will mean more vehicles.  More vehicles mean more security.  As a result, we have to take him out before he reaches the city.”

“My folks can find a good ambush site, if you want us to do it.”  John said.

“Good, you do that, John.  Now I want all the supplies we'll need for this attack rounded up and ready to go in two days.  We want to take Vetrov alive, if possible, but if not, he has to die.  He is the brains behind the movement against us and a serious threat.  If we kill him, it'll buy us some time to get better organized, before the Russians bring in a new man.  Any questions?”  Willy said and then took a long drink of his now cold coffee.

Willy then moved to the coffee pot, pulled it from the fireplace and filled his cup.  Looking at the group, he said, “Since there are no questions, dismissed.  John, scout the area today.”

“Yes, sir.”

John left Sandra behind and was a bit surprised when Sergeant Thomas joined them.  “I've been assigned to your cell, since your sniper was killed.”

Shaking hands with the man, John said, “Everyone, this is Thomas; he's to be our sniper.”

After the new man was welcomed, John said, “I want Thomas, Tom, and Margie to go with me to scout out an area.  The rest of you get some hot food in you and some rest.  Three days from now we'll be going on an important mission.”

Ten minutes later they were moving north, toward the main highway that ran from Vicksburg to Jackson.  The weather was cool, skies clear, and little wind.  Each wore camouflage makeup on their faces, hands, and necks.  Tom now carried the GM-94 grenade launcher, with an M-16 slung over his shoulder.  Thomas had his sniper rifle in a protective pouch, over his shoulder, and packed a sawed off 12 gauge shotgun, which had the stock removed and a roughly made pistol grip in its place.  John had his Bison and Margie an AK-74, which John had taken from one of the men he killed a while back with the dog.

They moved silently through the trees and stopped often, to listen and scan the countryside.  Thomas was on point with Margie bringing up the rear.  They soon entered a part of the woods that had a wide path, perhaps before the fall it had been a logging road, and they moved parallel to it, out about twenty feet.  They'd gone about a hundred yards when Thomas signaled for them to hide.

John moved into the brush and squatted, so he could part some bushes and clearly see the trail.  A few minutes later, a lone Russian walked by, obviously the point man, and a few minutes later a group of ten soldiers were counted.  John waited until the man walking drag passed and then stood a few minutes later.

He waved everyone to him, and once they were there, he said, “Tom, mine the trail.  We'll return by a different route.”

Twenty minutes later, they were once more moving north.

The remainder of the trip to the road was uneventful and once there, Thomas said, “We can string some barbed-wire across the highway the night of the attack and maybe take the lead cycle out of action.”

Tom, pointed to the other side of the road and added, “The short slope, on the other side, would be a good place for a few men, so they can shoot anyone that exits the car from that side.  Up there, they'll be out of our line of fire.”

“I was thinking our main force could be in that group of trees in the median, but we'll need some people covering the traffic coming from the other direction too.”  John said.

“They could do that job from here, don't you think?”  Margie asked.

“Yep, now let's get back to Willy.”

They'd just turned and moved into positions, when a chopper flew low overhead.  John had looked up, out of instinct and met the eyes of the door gunner, who immediately pulled his gun around, but was unable to squeeze off a round. However, the aircraft instantly banked the other direction and all knew the pilot was lining up to attack.  

“Break and scatter, we'll meet down the way about a mile.”

“Run!”  Thomas yelled as he began moving through the brush at a run.

They flew in all directions, and just a few seconds later the loud explosion of a missile was heard, followed quickly by a second.  Shrapnel flew by John, striking tree trunks and cutting bushes, but none touched him.  He added more speed to his run and moved for the densest part of the trees.