The Fall Of America: Fatal Encounters Part 3

"You and I will enter the kill zone and check to see what happened. We might find someone wounded, so go easy with your trigger finger. Tom, I want you and the rest to provide us security. I'm sure the killers are long gone, but they may have left some wounded that are determined to take an American to h.e.l.l with 'em."

"I hear you." Tom replied, and then began positioning folks so they could cover them. Of the folks providing protection, John liked Kate the best. He'd actually seen her nail a dime at two hundred yards with her scoped rifle.

Both men immediately saw where the Russians had used a NON-50, their copy of the Claymore and many of the bodies were riddled badly. John looked around and quickly spotted where they'd been placed in trees, pointing downward, to give them a better dispersion of fragments when exploded. The dead had been walking one minute and dead the next, and it was a better death than most.

Dolly, who was walking beside him froze and was looking at something in front of her. John strained his eyes and eventually spotted a thin line stretched across the trail. He suspected, but d.a.m.n sure wasn't going to check, it was a NON-100 anti-personnel mine. I need to warn Jay not to touch anything, and to keep his eyes open for wires, He thought.

John turned and was looking at the man, about to speak, when a loud explosion filled the air and the man flew apart from the blast. John fell to the ground and heard a loud ringing in his ears. Dust, blood and bits of flesh rained down on him as he covered his head with both hands. He knew the danger was over, but survival was his only thought. John was lucky the mine had been positioned toward Jay, so he'd missed the main force of the blast.

"Tom, keep everyone where they are!" John commanded and then stood on shaky legs. I don't need a bunch of folks running in here and triggering more mines, he thought.

"I hear ya."

He glanced at Jay's body, or what little remained, and from the knees up, he was blown away. He must have been close to the mine, because his jeans were smoking. He looked in the direction he'd been moving and saw two dead bodies. He moved around the trip wire in front of him, and walked forward, slowly. He encountered no more wires or pressure activated mines, and didn't find Lieutenant Holland's body. John didn't think he'd been taken prisoner, but he may have. It's more likely he was unhurt or maybe injured and got away. It all depends on where he was when the blasts went off, he thought as he called Dolly and moved back to his people.

Tom neared and asked, "And, Jay?"

"He triggered a NON-100 mine and we've lost him. I'm not sure, but it looks like they mined every other body or groups of bodies. The good news, maybe, is I didn't find Holland."

"I think if you circle the ambush site, Dolly will pick up his scent."

"I'd thought of that." John replied and then looking at his dog said, "Come on Dolly, we're going for a walk."

Dolly and John took their time and were about half way around the site, when she pulled him toward the right. "Tom, over here. But look for tripwires as you come, because I saw a couple behind me."

When the group arrived, Tom asked, "Any sign of blood?"

"Nope, but I'm going to take the point and have Margie pull drag. It's possible we'll find him alive and if we do, he may be a tad trigger happy. No shooting, and if you see him, call out in English."

Sandra moved to his side and said, "You be careful and don't be a hero. It's very possible the Russians know where he is and are using him as bait."

"I've considered that, too, but find it unlikely, since the ambush happened in the middle of the night. Now, I know they've got night vision goggles, but for one reason or the other, I suspect he made a clean getaway."

Tom gave him a crooked grin and said, "a.s.sume nothing when you get near him."

"If they mine the dead, use extra caution if Joshua is seriously wounded. They may have him mined as well. None of us are explosives experts, so use some common sense, if you find him."

"Let's move and do the job now." He said, knowing there were many variables in a given situation and a man needed to consider all of them, and quickly. He'd deal with Holland, if and when they found him.

They'd covered about a quarter of a mile, when he heard Kate say, "John, look, blood on a leaf."

He stopped and he walked to her position. A fallen leaf had a slight blood stain, but it was impossible to tell if the injury was serious or not. It was dry and about the size of a dime.

"He's bleeding some." Tom said.

"Okay, we keep moving." John said and moved back into position. He suddenly heard a sharp crack of thunder and when he looked up, noticed rain clouds moving overhead. The clouds were dark gray on the outside and almost black in the center. He ignored the weather and followed Dolly.

It was almost another quarter mile before he heard her give him a low warning growl. He looked in the direction she was looking, but saw nothing. He raised a balled fist and everyone stopped moving.

John led Dolly toward the spot she'd been looking and saw the shape of a man wearing camouflage under a large pine tree. He was sitting on his b.u.t.t, chin down, and knees up. He spotted a small patch of blood on his left arm and it'd been crudely bandaged. He held an M-16 in his hands and the barrel was pointing up. On Holland's black face, he noticed his eyes were open, and actually watched him blink a few times.

"Joshua, this is John, are you okay?"

"John?" He asked, and appeared confused.

"I'm a cell leader, like you, remember?"

Joshua gave a low chuckle and said, "My arm hurts, not my head. I'm in some serious pain and a bit messed up from blood loss."

"Blood loss? We didn't see but one drop of blood on the way here. By the way, Dolly saved your a.s.s."

He gave a weak grin and then said, "I always did like her. I have three or four used bandages in the cargo pockets of my BDU's, because I didn't want to just toss them away. Ain't no need to make it easy for anyone trailing me."

"Josh, is it safe around you? I need to know before I allow anyone forward to treat you. We found mines back at the ambush site."

"Yep, it's safe, and no one followed me. I've been here for hours and ain't even heard a fly fart."

John turned and said, "Sandra, I need your help."

She neared and asked, "Safe?"

"He claims it's safe and he should know."

Sandra moved forward and squatted at Joshua's side. Opening her medical bag, she then turned her attention to the injured arm. As she worked him over, John checked out his folks and they were all alert and watching the woods. Good bunch I have, and I hated to lose Jay, he thought and turned to see Sandra cutting the shirt sleeve. The bullet, from what John could see, was small caliber and had pa.s.sed through the meaty part of his arm. While it'd bleed like h.e.l.l and hurt, it wasn't normally a killing wound, not if kept clean.

"I need to get him to a safer spot and clean the wound." She said a few minutes later, "It's got debris from his shirt and the soiled cloth bandages he used."

"I used what I had and that was my tee-shirt." Joshua said.

"I'm not complaining, just telling John what needs to be done." Sandra said.

"Tom?" John asked.

"Uh-huh?"

"Set up a perimeter as Sandra works on Holland. Keep all alert and awake."

"Not a problem." He turned and walked away.

Less than an hour later, Holland was wrapped up nice and pretty, and Sandra said, "I can't give you anything for pain yet, because we're on the move. Once we're where we'll spend the night, I'll take care of your pain. Right now, swallow these." She handed him two pills, which John suspected were aspirin or some sort of over the counter pain reliever.

He nodded and then looking at John, smiled and said, "If you'll help me up, I'll join your group."

John moved to his side, helped him to his feet and then said, "Pull 'em in, Tom, we're moving again."

As soon as Tom neared, he took Holland from John and slipped the man's uninjured arm around his shoulder. John heard Holland say, "d.a.m.n, Tom, I had no idea ya cared so much for me."

"Try to kiss me and I'll beat your a.s.s." 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 s.h.i.t 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 pa.s.sionate 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, "bulls.h.i.t," 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, gla.s.ses 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 pa.s.s, 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 h.e.l.l 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.

CHAPTER 4.

Colonel 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 sh.e.l.ls 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 d.a.m.ned 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 gra.s.s.

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, pa.s.sing 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 s...o...b..x, 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 d.a.m.ned 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 a.s.signment 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 a.s.s chewing, but like most soldiers, he wanted to survive.