The Fall of America: Fatal Encounters (Book 2) (6 page)

“Try to kiss me and I'll beat your ass.” Tom replied with a big grin.

“Oh, never on a first date, I'm a man of honor.” Holland said and then gave a low chuckle.

It cheered John up a bit, hearing the two of them clowning around, and when he glanced at Sandra she was wearing a big smile.  Gazing into his eyes, she winked.

John's mind drifted to the days just after the fall of America and the wonderful life he'd had.  His first wife was a good woman, who was raped and killed while he was away from home one day.  He'd gone out after the fall to horse trade some items and when he returned, discovered her bloody body. In the weeks that followed, he'd almost blown his brains out. Tom had helped him, a lot, but when someone you love deeply dies, you have to get your shit together on your own. He'd known Sandra for a while, they'd met in college, so one thing led to another, and eventually they'd gotten married.  He quickly discovered a wonderful woman.

Sandra was beautiful, intelligent, hard working and a passionate lover. They'd grown very close and he missed their home and time alone. He'd often heard men say their wives were their best friends and always thought, “
bullshit,
” only that was the case with the two of them. He hid nothing from her, could speak his mind openly, and neither of them had a spark of jealousy. John had lady friends, as she had men friends.  

John's long dead cousin had been a clinical psychologist and he'd told him years ago, “John,  jealousy comes from a man or woman who is insecure or a person who is abusive, thus controlling. Or, maybe both. It's healthy for men and women to have friends of different genders.  However, once trust is broken, it's impossible to regain.  Always remember that and remain faithful to your wife.”

Thomas, his cousin, died when a gang of rednecks busted into his home, shot him to death with a couple of shotguns, and took his wife and daughters with them for sport.  He'd heard nothing about the women since.  

John missed the simple things; like cuddling up on the sofa with Sandra, glasses of wine in their hands, while relaxing and watching a good movie.  Those days were long gone and he might never see them again. Alcohol, while available, was expensive, and few places still had electricity, so movies were long gone. Their lives would never be what they once were, just as the country, hopefully, would never be the same.

The insane bickering from both political parties over this bill or that bill they attempted to pass, knowing we didn't have the money to fund an outhouse, was over.  America was no longer a superpower and all government was gone. Some politicians had died swinging in the wind, tied to the short end of a long rope, while others had been shot down in cold blood.  A few escaped to Europe with their money, but their numbers were small, and the average American didn't care. Today people were scattered all over, formed into small tribes or quasi military units like John's, attempting simply to stay alive.

An hour before dusk they moved deep into the trees, away from the path. Tom rigged some grenades to tripwires on our trail and then placed Claymores around them. All hunkered down for the night, but John expected it to be quiet.

Holland had moved most of the day and while his pain must have been bad, John finally had to ask, “Josh, what in the hell happened?”

He looked at John, blinked back tears, and said, “We'd heard a chopper not long after we left you, after it turned dark.  Since it seemed to be off in the distance, we kept moving.  Brown warned me the bird might have infrared technology, but I didn't listen.”

“Why not?”

“I don't really know, but guess I didn't think the Russians had developed a thermal imaging system to the point I needed to worry about it.  But, I was wrong, dead wrong. I suspect they flew in a circle, picking us out by body heat, then they simply watched us, plotted out our course on a map, and then placed troops on the ground ahead of us. I'm prior service, kind of; I spent three years on active duty, as an enlisted administration puke, and maybe my ignorance got my folks killed.”

“Want to tell me what happened?”  John asked, knowing it would be hard for the man, but they needed the information.

C
olonel Georgy Vetrov was so mad his veins were bulging in his neck, his face was red, and he had a difficult time speaking. He glanced at the four dead men who'd been left behind, as a convoy moved on, to repair a broken down truck. All that remained were the smoking shells of two vehicles.

Seeing something in a dead man's mouth, Vetrov walked to the body and removed a playing card, the ace of spades. He grew white as he held the card and threatened to execute thousands of Americans. Pankov shook his head, while safely on the other side of a burnt truck, and thought,
You can kill as many as you wish, fool, only you will never kill their spirit.  These Americans are proving to be much more than we bargained for and if we were smart, which we are not, we would leave today.

“Major Abdulov, gather some men and track those that committed this crime. I want their heads for this, do you understand?”

The major snapped to attention and replied, “Yes, sir. How long should we look for them?”

“Until you find them, fool. I want them caught, so we can make an example of them.”

“And, if we cannot find them, sir?”

“You keep looking until you find them. Do not return without the guilty ones! Stay out as long as it takes, but if you come back without them, I will have you executed along with some other fools I have in mind.”

“Lieutenant Ivanov and Master Sergeant Belonev, prepare the men to leave. Sergeant, do you have a dog on this trip?”

“No, sir, they were turned over to the guards at the new internment camp.”

“Go without the damned dogs, Major,” Vetrov roared in anger as he walked in circles. Finally, after the major walked away, he glanced at the card in his hand and said, “They taunt me, like a child.  They think they can toy with a Russian Colonel like a small baby.  I will show them.”  He turned and yelled, “Pankov, collect forty Americans for me and do the it today. Tomorrow I want them executed at the Capital Building, just like the last ones.  But, these I want decapitated.  Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, sir, and will have them gathered up.”

“Now, let's get back to the base and I want a staff meeting within an hour of returning. This murdering of my men must be stopped.”  He said, and then moved toward his staff car.

The Russians moved through the woods cautiously as they looked for tripwires, mines, or checked out sites for potential ambush. Major Abdulov suspected they'd run into something eventually, because it was the way the resistance always fought.
Colonel Vetrov is doing this all wrong.  Killing the hostages will not reduce the attacks on us and even a private soldier knows this. We should be helping the people, feeding them, building medical centers and schools, not shooting them. Violence breeds violence, it is just common sense
, he thought.

“Sir, I have some tracks here, but they are not clear.”  A private said as he squatted in the grass.

Abdulov looked closely but saw nothing out of place.  “Show me the sign.”

“Sir, see where this rock has been knocked over?  The soil is different texture than the other dirt beside it and if,” he pointed to a limb about chest high, “you look here, you'll see a broken twig.  That tells me it was done by something big, like a man or woman, not a rabbit or squirrel. They have moved this way.”

“Is it enough to follow?”

“For now it is all we have to follow. I think after a few meters, the sign will become easier to read, sir.”

Confused, Abdulov asked, “Why will it become easier?”

“Following most ambushes the attackers make every effort to hide their trail at first, sir.  If we have no idea where they have gone, we cannot follow.  Then, after a short distance, it becomes more important to them to increase their speed to get out of the kill zone. They do not want to be discovered anywhere near where the attack happened.”

“Then follow the tracks, and I hope this was not done by a deer or other large animal.”

The Russians had fifteen men, which included one on point and one bringing up the rear.  Keeping the tracker as the second man in line, Abdulov hoped to keep the man semi-safe, but he had to be near the front to keep them on course.  The Major was in the middle and the lieutenant was near the front of the group. This was done so if ambushed both leaders would not be killed, hopefully. The soldiers were well trained to follow orders, but they were not strong independent thinkers, and required strong leadership. Master Sergeant Belonev could run the men if needed, but he lacked, in Abdulov's mind, the refinement and knowledge of an officer.

There suddenly sounded a loud explosion and the man on point disappeared in a cloud of dust, smoke and fire. The noise was still echoing in the trees when Sergeant Belonev ran forward, passing the men in the group.  As he ran by the tracker, he tapped the man on the shoulder, and said, “Come.”

Five minutes later, they returned and Belonev said, “Mine with a tripwire across the trail, so they expected to be followed.  As near as I can tell, it was one of our mines, but our point man is dead.”

“Are you sure?”  Abdulov asked.

“Major, you could bury what is left of the man in a shoebox, if you took the time to gather up the pieces.”

Turning to a private beside him, the Major said, “Take the point, and watch for tripwires.”

A few minutes later, the group began to move once more, but too slowly.  

About an hour later, the major said, “We move too damned slowly. Sergeant, move forward and instruct the man to double his speed.  We will never catch them at this rate.”

As the Master Sergeant moved forward he thought,
You may catch something you will want to let go of quickly.  I just want to live through this assignment and retire.  I miss my Alena and my farm, and I'm am getting too old to run around in the woods of America looking for people. Home is all I think about these days, but I grow close to retirement, so what else is important?

When the point man heard the sergeant nearing, he swung around, his weapon ready.  He saw the NCO and lowered the barrel of his weapon.  He suspected he was about to receive an ass chewing, but like most soldiers, he wanted to survive.

“Private, the Major said for you to double your speed.”  Belonev said.

“That is crazy.  It takes time to look for mines, tripwires and ambushes. If I speed up, I cannot do the job properly.”

“You have your orders, now move, or I think he will have you shot.”

“All officers are fools.  You do not see his ass out here, do you?”

“That is enough!  Double your speed or I will arrest you for failing to follow lawful orders.”

The man moved off at a faster rate and the Sergeant could hear him cursing officers, the Russian army, and America.  
He is right, and I suspect if the American's left other surprises on their trail, he will soon discover one.  But, he forgets he is a soldier in the best army in the world, and like all soldiers, from the beginning of time, we must follow orders. An army cannot function if orders are always questioned, he thought, and then turned to wait for the main group to move up to him.

Close to noon they took a short break in the middle of a small open area. Rations were opened and the men tore at their food like hungry wolves. The sunshine felt good on the Sergeant's face as he checked the guards he'd posted.  

The Major had just opened his beef stew and hard biscuits, when a man beside him screamed, grabbed his bloody head, and fell jerking to the grass. The echo of a single gunshot was heard.

“Medic!” Abdulov yelled.

“Sniper!”  Screamed the men as they scurried for cover.

“Medic, see to the private!”  

A thin man, wearing no identification ran to the downed man's side and lay down beside him.

“Did anyone see where that shot came from?”  Lieutenant Ivanov asked.

“No one saw it, sir,” The Sergeant replied, “because they were busy eating. Everyone stay down or you will be the next one hit.”

One of the guards posted earlier by Belonev, who was laying beside a huge pine log said, “I saw movement just before the shot was fired. Look to the west and look at the largest pine, maybe fifty meters from me. The movement was about eight meters from the very top.”

“Spray that tree with fire, now.” The major ordered.

AK-47's spat flames and shots filled the air as pieces of the pine were seen flying in the air.  The Sergeant suspected the sniper had moved right after firing the shot, but kept his mouth shut.  A minute or so later Abdulov yelled, “Cease firing!”

The injured man continued to scream and kick wildly at the grasses.  He was flat on his back,  bleeding profusely from his head, and screaming for his mother. The man giving first aid, pulled a needle from his pack, and inserted it into a vial of medicine.  Abdulov was watching as the medics head exploded, sending skin, bone, and blood high in the air. His lifeless body fell over the injured man and lay unmoving. The Major knew the medic was dead, because the top of his skull from the eyebrows up was missing.