The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2) (38 page)

“How long will I be here?”

“Do you mean here at this base or in the army?”

“I do not understand, Doctor.”

“Your days in the army are finished, due to your back injury.  I doubt, once healed, you would be able to carry a pack over fifty meters before you would have to stop.  You will suffer from back pain the remainder of your life, but you have enough years on active duty to retire.  Along with your retirement pension, you will receive a slight disability payment each month.  I hope to have you on the next aircraft out of here and on your way back to Moscow.  It will not be a straight flight, I am afraid, but a series of hops on different aircraft, until you get to the east coast of this Godforsaken country.”

“What will my retirement rank be, sir?  I need another six months of active duty before I have enough time in grade to retire as a master sergeant.”

“Well, I cannot be sure, but the word I had earlier this morning is your rank will be Junior Lieutenant, and you have been submitted for the Order of Saint George, 4th class, for your personal bravery, courage and valor, which allowed us to defeat a strong partisan force.  Major Usov, the pilot in the lone surviving Black Shark, recommended your immediate promotion, which was approved, and did the paperwork for the medal.  However, the medal will take some time before it is approved, I am sorry to say.”

“Sir, I have no education and cannot be a Lieutenant.  As for the military action, I do not think we won the fight; after all, Colonel Vetrov died.  How do they figure I deserve a medal for just doing my job?  Or, do you think Moscow is desperate for heroes here?”

Moving his hand, as if swatting a fly, the Doctor said, “You will be medically discharged, so do not worry about your battlefield promotion, regardless of the reason it happened.  It will mean your retirement pension and disability payment will almost double.  As a retired Lieutenant, you will only wear the uniform at odd times, so an education is not needed.  Major Usov said when you were on the radio to him, you did all the coordination for ground action with the two attack helicopters.  He also saw you leading the two officers while defending a ditch.  He stated that once the Colonel came on the radio, he could hear the man's fear and confusion.  You are now a Russian hero, Lieutenant.”

“I will be damned.”

The doctor laughed and said, “Now, let me give you some morphine to kill the pain and you need to get some more sleep.  Later today, you will be moved into a single room, which as you know is a benefit of the officer class.  Congratulations on both the promotion and submission for the medal.  I think you deserve both.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, I have to make my other rounds.”  the Doctor said and then walked from the room.  

A Senior Sergeant, in a bed near the window, with his leg in a cast and in traction said, “Well done, sir.”

“Sir?  Now that is going to take some getting used to, I think.  What is your name?”

“I am Senior Sergeant Tikhokhod, sir, and was injured by a booby-trap.  As senior non-commissioned officers, we both know how the game is played.  It is more than likely you deserve both the promotion and medal, but then again, Moscow may be looking for a hero.  I left Russia just a little over a month ago and from what I could tell, this war is not going well for us.  I suspect they will wine and dine you for a year and then put you out to pasture for the remainder of your life.”

Belonev grunted and asked, “What do you mean, wine and dine me?”

“Sir, they need a real hero and you are it, I think.  Your story will be in all the newspapers, both in print and online, you will be on the television, and they will have you doing public speaking.  They will milk all the propaganda they can from your bravery and then send you home all used up.”

“Well, I do not give a shit what they do.  I survived, while many others did not, and they can give me a medal and promotion if they want.  Just surviving this hellhole is enough for me.  I will do what I am told and then return to my wife and take up life as a civilian.”

Senior Sergeant Tikhokhod reached under his pillow and pulled out a pint of Vodka.  He tossed the almost full bottle to Belonev, grinned and said, “I was teasing you with the sir, Master Sergeant, so have a drink.”

Belonev took a long drink of the clear alcohol and then tossed the bottle back to the Senior Sergeant.  He gave his new promotion some thought;
The base pay for a lieutenant is 20,000 rubles a month, at which I can retire with 40 percent of that as income.  I will draw an additional 10 percent because I worked with classified information so, before my disability payment, I will make close to 10,000 rubles a month.  As a Master Sergeant, my base retirement would have been around 3,250 rubles a month.  That's a pay increase of almost three times as much as a master sergeant and that is a big deal.  Of course, I will not know how much my disability will pay until I meet a medical board.

“What are you thinking on over there?” the Sergeant asked.

“Not much.  I am getting sleepy and think the morphine is starting to work, or the vodka.”

“Best of luck to you, Master Sergeant Belonev, in the future, and thank you for your service.  I suspect they will move you to a private room shortly.  They do not like having officers in rooms with enlisted swine.”  The Sergeant chuckled at his own humor.

A
t the swamp house, Willy was grinning from ear to ear, and shaking his head.  “By God, this place is perfect for our headquarters.  It'd take the Russians fifty years to find this place on foot.”

“Choppers can see tracks on the trails and smoke from fires, so we'll still have to be careful.” Tom said.

“Lawdy,” Willy said as he walked to the large window in the living room, “I walked here with you, John, but ain't no way in hell I could walk out on my own.  More twists and turns than a rattlesnake.  You're right, Tom, we need to sweep our trails clean and watch for smoke from our fires.”

John said, “I have teams out now laying mines and making booby-traps.  They're also marking any intersections along the trails so we will know which trail to follow.  Out here, and this is no joke, if you get lost, you have a better than average chance of experiencing a poisonous snakebite or having a gator eat your ass alive.”  

Willy sat on the floor, near the window and said, “I've a team upstairs now placing a heavy machine-gun and turning the place into an observation post for us.  It's the highest place around and while the floor is weak, it'll do the job.  I don't want more than three men up there at a time, because much of the flooring has rotted.  I want a sniper, machine-gunner, and an ammo man.  No others.”

“What kind of machine-gun do you have?”

“We have an M-60, but I've placed a Kord upstairs.  It's a belt fed- ”

“It's the latest heavy duty machine-gun the Russians use.  I'm aware of it and have captured a few, too.”  John replied.

Sandra, who'd been quiet, suddenly said, “I'm concerned about malaria, West Nile, or other mosquito borne viruses or illnesses.  This may be a good place to hide, but I suspect we'll have some fevers after being here a week or so.”

“Do we have any malaria tablets?”  Willy asked.

“I have a few, but not enough to treat everyone that will likely come down with a fever.  West Nile might just kill their ass, too, if they get it, because it's rough to treat even in a hospital.”

“Tom, put the word out to all cells that anyone that finds or has any malaria medications to turn  it over to Sandra.  When we hit Russian convoys, look for malaria medications or even quinine.  I can write the few different words out in Russian, so our people know what to look for on the markings on the boxes. I never thought of malaria, but your point is well taken.”

Tom grinned and said, “The menu just went up, too, because gator and snake are good eating.  Hell, I saw enough gators on the way here to feed us for a year.”

“There are some big fish in this place too, but you'd think the gators would have eaten all of them by now, huh?”

Willy chuckled and then said, “All gear, supplies, and ammunition will need to be stored on the ground floor, for quick use.  We buried a great deal of stuff near the house we just left, in the floor under the barn, dead center, too.  I don't want to risk losing it all if we have to run from here one day.  Now, I saw some big trees on the way to this location, so let's place some snipers in them and get them as close to the mines as we can.  That way if a man is seriously injured by a mine, maybe we can shoot two or three of the others coming to give him first aid.  And don't just place the snipers on the actual trail that leads here, or they'll figure that out eventually.  Place them on dead-end trails or those that meander all over the place as well.”

“Who in the hell wants to spend all day in a tree?” Margie asked.

“They'll spend three days out and then two days here, so they'll not get bored.  We'll also alternate trees, so they'll get a different view on each trip out to the bush.”

“Willy,” John said, “I hate to bring this up, because I know you dislike the subject, but when are some additional people arriving?  We lost a lot of people killing that Russian Colonel.”

Shaking his head, Willy replied, “I've sent the word out for some of the cells to come in and report to me.  The problem seems to be, well, with the increase in Russian patrols and resulting fights, some of the units aren't where they used to be located.  They've been forced to relocate for survival.”

“Any idea when we'll have more folks join us?”

“Week to two weeks at best, but maybe as long as a month.”

John nodded and then closed his eyes.  He was tired and felt as if he hadn't slept well in years.  He knew they were as safe as it ever got in occupied America, but he had a nagging feeling of doom, and while he could see no reason for it, it was there all the same.  

Finally, he spoke of his feelings to Willy and expected laughter, but it didn't come.

“John, I ain't sure, but you've family ties to this old place and it's possible, since you know what happened to your ancestor, you feel it can happen to you, too.  Well, it damned sure could happen to you, but then again, maybe nothing will happen.  I respect the feelings a man gets and more than once my feelings have kept me alive.”

Esom ran into the house, looked around and spotting Willy he said, “Reports indicate a large group of Russians, maybe five hundred men, fixin' to enter the swamps from the South side.”

“Return, Esom, and tell our men to fall back to within a mile of this place.  How many booby-traps or mines been placed?”

“Nigh on half, but that's a wild ass guess.”

“Return and spread the word.”

As soon as Esom left, Willy met John's eyes and asked, “Do you know what this means?”

“Of course I know what it means, and it's not good.  There is absolutely no way the Russians can know we're here, except one way.”

“What does it mean?” Sandra asked.

Willy's eyes narrowed as he slowly looked at each person and then said, “It means we have a traitor among us, but who?”

The End of Book 2

Coming this Fall 2014:  
FALL OF AMERICA :
Renegade American

W.R. Benton
is an Amazon Top 100 Selling Author and has previously authored books of fiction, non-fiction and Southern humor.  Such notable authors as Matt Braun, Stephen Lodge, Don Bendell, and many others have endorsed his work. His survival book, “Simple Survival, a Family Outdoors Guide,” is a 2005 Silver Award Winner from the Military Writers Society of America. James Drury, "The Virginian," endorsed his latest two Western books, "War Paint" and "James McKay, U.S. Army Scout."

Mister Benton has an Associate Degree in Search and Rescue, Survival Operations, a Baccalaureate in Occupational Safety and Health, and a Masters Degree in Psychology completed except for his thesis.  Sergeant Benton retired from the military in 1997, with over twenty-six years of active duty, and at the rank of Senior Master Sergeant (E-8).  He spent twelve years as a Life Support Instructor where he taught aircrew members how to use survival gear, survival procedures, and parachuting techniques. Gary has attended the following United States Air Force Survival Schools: