The Fall of America: Enemy Within (Book 3) (17 page)

Major Rusak was back in the saddle again and leading troops, but as an officer, he found his role much safer. His job was to run things and not personally go into the field.  Additionally, with his promotion and Sergeant Bluska's, the other men in his old unit had been promoted as well. He had a tent set up in the woods and he was surrounded by a hundred men. They were all dug in and for the first time in his career he slept well at night. He liked the idea of Colonel Sokol's and agreed that smaller units with air support would do well. He currently had twenty units of ten men each out in the field and most of each day he'd sat by the radio drinking hot tea. This was the second day of the insertion by chopper, so he was tense and a bit nervous. So far, all was quiet.

He'd just raised his cup to his lips when the radio exploded with excited chatter.

The radio operator began to talk and Rusak could hear gunfire and explosions in the background as the men in the field began requesting assistance. A huge explosion was heard on the radio speaker and then complete silence.

“Bravo 6, do you read, over?” the headquarters radio man asked continuously.

A few minutes later, an accented voice, speaking Russian said, “My name is Colonel Williams and your men are all dead. This is the third squad we have killed today. Come for me and you will discover Americans are hard to kill, comrade. I do enjoy fighting your squad size units, because they are like children in the woods.”

Rusak took the microphone from his radio operator and asked, “Who are you?”

“I am the leader of the partisans and a prior Special Operations man, a Green Beret, which I am sure you Russians know. And, what is your name?”

“My name is Major Rusak and one day, Yankee, you will die.”

“Of course I will die, because all things eventually die, Major. You think you are safe, surrounded with a hundred men, but I can kill all of you with a single order. I know exactly where your tent is located, Major.  I also know you are a prior enlisted man, a Master Sergeant, so I do not take you lightly. You, sir, are a threat to my people and will soon die.”

“Come for me, Yankee dog.”

“Name calling, eh?  It means I must have pissed you off, which is good. When we visit, I will personally, if possible, kill you, but you
will
die. Enjoy your evening, comrade, and give our coming fight some thought.”

Handing the microphone back to his radio man, Rusak thought,
There is something unnerving about speaking with an enemy and having him threaten to kill me. I must double and triple check our defenses and get the men dug in deep. I must take his threat to kill as real, and I do believe he will try.

Razor wire was flown in, a tank was placed in the middle of camp, and a man with a flamethrower was added. The foxholes the men dug were now deeper and each had a small shelf carved in the soil where hand grenades were stored. Rusak had the men positioned two to a hole, so one could sleep while the other stood guard.  

The tank crew had orders to sleep in the tank, which brought a round of cursing because it was cramped and uncomfortable. Finally, the three man crew accepted their orders and he'd not seen them since. The only time one of the crew was allowed to leave their armored beast was to use the latrine or gather supplies from the choppers. Thousands of ration meals were flown in, as well as drinking water and more ammunition.

Rusak still suffered from pain but most was located in his shoulder, where he'd been injured first. Some mornings, right after waking up, he'd down a long pull of vodka to ease his discomfort.  This morning, right after brushing his teeth, he downed about a half pint of the strong drink, and made his way to the radio operator's tent.

The senior radio operator was at the desk and said, “The body of the last informer has been found and fairly close to here, at an old automobile junk yard. The medic said it was a woman, but she had been left to hang and was in pretty sad shape when found. She was hanging from her ankles, with her head on the ground, and a sign reading “Traitor” pinned to her chest and the usual card in her mouth.”

Rusak waved the man's comments away, because informers were not his responsibility. He picked up the log of messages received and sent, scanned the list and then asked, “I notice where some infrared Ka-60's discovered some heat sources last night. Why were the targets not attacked?”

“Mainly because they were too close to our location.  According to a pilot named, Paley, a Warrant Officer, we were surrounded by people moving in close to our position. He seemed to think they were massing for an attack, but nothing happened.”

Rusak remembered the words of Colonel Williams,
When we visit, I will personally, if possible, kill you, but you will die.
He felt a shudder go through his body.

The day was a good one, with one Russian ambush killing twenty Americans and another killing two and injuring many more, but they escaped. Dogs were trailing the injured men now.  

Just as the sun when down, the radio came alive with chatter. Rusak moved close to the speaker and listened as a half a dozen teams reported contact.
Strange,
he thought,
all of the contact happened at the exact same time.

“Major, Lieutenant Markov is under attack by a large force and is barely holding his own.”

“Have him contact air support and they will clear the way.”

“Master Sergeant Turchin reports he needs support or he will be overrun shortly.”

“Tell him to contact air support as well. What in the hell does he think I can do? There is nothing any of us can do for him or his men; we are a headquarters, for God's sake, and have no guns.”

“Well, besides the request for help, he said he has never seen so many Americans out in the bush in his life. They encountered hundreds of mines, booby-traps and avoided at least two ambushes. You know Turchin well, and the man does not panic easily, sir.”

“Get the air base on the phone and tell them to get anything that can fly into the air and do the job now. Colonel Dubow gave me any assets I need to do this job, and right now I need aircraft.”

Thirty minutes later a flight of three jets flew low overhead and continued moving north. It was full dark now, with the little camp pitch black. No one spoke, everyone was awake, and no one moved.

Near 2200 hours, the listening post outside the wire reported a lot of movement.

“Ears one to base. Movement all around us. Request permission to pull back into the wire.”

Rusak nodded to the radio man and said, “Tell them to come in and do it now.”

A minute later, the radio man said, “They are coming in now, sir.”

Abruptly guns sounded as red and green tracers flew through the air. Some of the green, which was Russian, was being shot into the wire, at the camp, and all of the red was. Sticking his head out of the tent, Rusak said, “Call the base and tell them we are under heavy attack.”

When the radio man did not reply, the Major turned and saw the man was on the ground, kicking as blood spurted between his fingers from a bullet to the face. He is dead, Rusak thought as he moved to the radio.

J
ohn and his group were joined by the others at the old garage, and Willy was pissed that the Russians had killed over 250 partisans with just two jets many weeks back. He paced around inside the garage as he listened to the almost fully recovered Esom.

“I'd estimate the number of Russians in the woods to be around 100 to 120 and they're dug in well, with razor wire and a few dogs. We can take the place, but why should we?”

“Because we can, and to show the Russians we'll hit them when and where we can.”

“But the cost in lives will be high for us.”

“I think a lot depends on when we strike and how many of us attack. I plan to hit them around 2200, when most will least expect an attack. Additionally, at the same time, I want the Russian Squads looking for us to be hit as well. I want to do the most damage with the least losses to our side.”

“Colonel,” Esom said, “like I said, we can take the place, if you want to pay the price.”

“Good, let's move.”

The night was early, just a bit past 1900 hours, but the walk, barring any problems, would take an hour and a half. The moon was not out yet, but most of the partisans wore NVG's for ease of movement in the darkness. The wind was light, and it reminded Willy to position his men downwind from the Russians. By doing so, the dogs would have a harder time discovering their scent.  

The Colonel was the only one of the group not packing a pack and it was due to his physical condition, not his age. The gulag had robbed him of most of his strength and power, because of a poor diet, and he was not capable of carry a load this night. He did carry a Russian pistol and four grenades; he knew how to use both.

An hour later, shots were heard to the north and then to the east of them, followed by explosions, so the other groups were ambushing Russians right on time. John knew the Russian commander would be swamped with calls for artillery or air support. So far, he'd seen few big guns in action, only that didn't mean the enemy wouldn't use them. He knew the closest airbase was at Edwards and the number of aircraft they had was limited to a dozen or less, depending on what maintenance had ready to fly on any given day.  However, John also knew it didn't take more than just a couple of aircraft to raise hell with troops on the ground. Their only hope was the aircraft would overlook protecting the headquarters in the field and try to take care of the squad sized units in the field instead.

Esom dropped back from second in line to say to Willy, “Only about a quarter of a mile left and we'll be there.”

There came the loud scream of a jet passing low overhead and a few seconds later it was gone.  Off in the distance booms were heard from explosions, but what caused the noise was unknown, only the jet was suspect. They continued to move toward the Russians.

“We'll hit them on the side with the tents and communications gear. If we knock all communications out, we'll have a field day. Place two Claymore mines pointed toward the tents, and when they go off, we'll attack. Kill every man.”

No one said anything, because it was a pretty typical attack for them. Usually, they'd attack after tossing grenades, shooting a LAW, or using mines. It shocked the enemy deeply and once dazed, they were easier to kill or injure.

Once in position at the Russian field headquarters, the men quickly placed the mines, as Willy viewed the camp with his NVG's. It was a quarter to 2200 and he'd wait an additional fifteen minutes to blow the mines. His timing was important, so his units attacking the small groups of Russians would all strike at the same time. He wanted air support confused by what was happening and make them choose which to defend. If communications were knocked out here, the jets and choppers would assist the small units— maybe. Like living, it was a gamble.

Finally, at 2200, Willy whispered, “Blow the mines.”

Two loud explosions filled the night air and warbling screams were heard in the camp. As one, the partisans ran toward the Russian headquarters, shooting anything that moved. John moved to the first tent, entered and found two radio operators on the ground jerking due to injuries from the mine. He shot both men and then shot the radios to pieces, the parts flying through the air as bullets struck. Satisfied, he moved to the next tent.

Pulling the flap open, he saw no one and it looked to be the personal tent of an officer, most likely the commander. Quickly searching for anything of use, but finding little, he ignited some papers on a folding desk and piled some blankets close to the fire. Within a minute the tent was filling with flames and smoke.

He'd just left the tent when he heard a loud, “swoosh” and when he looked in the direction of the noise, he spotted flames shooting into a small group of partisans.
Flamethrower,
he thought and pulled a grenade. He tossed the explosive and while his grenade landed close to the deadly weapon, the flamethrower continued to squirt liquid hell in different directions. By the light of the flames, he saw five men stumbling and on fire, their bodies human torches.

All gun fire concentrated on the flamethrower and three grenades exploded near the man.  Someone must have struck the fuel tank on the man's back, because it exploded with a loud,
ka-boom
.  A huge ball of flames shot high into the air, and the man instantly faltered around in flames. Bullets struck him and he fell, the area around him covered in fire. The fire lighted the area well, making it easier for both sides to find targets.

John, with Dolly at his side, moved toward a row of foxholes and sent bullets flying into the men in the holes. At one point, he stopped firing as Dolly rushed a man crawling from his protective hole and watched as the big German Shepherd clamped her teeth down on the Russians throat. Then the dog began shaking her head from side-to-side, until blood suddenly spurted from the soldiers neck, and his body grew limp. Dolly released her grip on the man and watched him closely as his left hand twitched.