Operation Instant Fury Read online

“Go Cobra.”

  “Send the deuce and half trucks in so we can start loading Russian supplies. I figure we have less than 12 hours before they counterattack. We need to strip this base bare and then get out of Dodge.

  Over.”

  “This is Copperhead Actual, good job Colonel. I'm damned proud of you and your people. I want you back on the first truck, and as of today your time in the field is limited, understand? I will tell you more when you arrive. Copy?”

  “Copy, sir. Okay, I'll return with the first run back to Dallas/Fort Worth, but it will be a couple of days drive. I may jump a helicopter and get back sooner. I know our intelligence people will be out in less than an hour to go through the files and images the Russians didn't have time to take with them. We discovered the Wing Commander dead in the office of the Base Commander, and his secretary was shot too, but not by us. From the looks of his office he flew the coup after shooting both of them with his pistol. We found four ejected pieces of brass and all four are from the same sidearm.”

  “That is tremendous news in my eyes. We not only took the base, we saw the two senior people kill each other. Any idea where the base commander is?”

  “If he tried to fly out of here, there is a good chance he is dead. Our shoulder fired missiles and our RPGs downed about 7 out of 10 aircraft attempting to get airborne. I wasn't watching all the time, but I think he's dead because all the choppers I saw in the sky were blown up. But, he may have left on one of the bigger aircraft.”

  “Look for his body or anything that a Commander might have on him when he left. He may have had a briefcase, stack of papers, or whatever. I'd really like to think we killed them both, but indirectly. Copperhead Actual, over and out.”

  It was then a woman that John didn't know approached him and asked, “Are you the Colonel assigned to take this base?”

  “I am. What can I do for you, and I'm called John.”

  “John, if you'll come with me, I have a few over 200 people who want to meet you. You indirectly rescued them from the base gulag. I am Major Joy Barnes and I'm your new executive officer.”

  “What happened to Major Woo? And, yes, let me speak to the released prisoners. I have some important words for them.” They both began walking.

  She chuckled and asked, “Would it matter if I took Woo's job over?”

  “Yes, it surely would. He and I have worked together for a while and while he's no field troop, he damned sure knows intelligence.” John said and then realized he sounded cold so he quickly added, “I have nothing personal against you, I don't even know you. All I see is an attractive young woman, but that doesn't mean you know beans about intelligence.”

  “I was always told military intelligence is an oxymoron.” she said, and then broke out laughing.

  John laughed too and then said, “You do have a good sense of humor.”

  “Relax Colonel, Woo is still your chief of intelligence, but I am your executive officer or in layman terms, your gopher.” Once again she laughed.

  They were quiet the last 100 yards to the gulag, where a crowd of people were waiting to be told something by a partisan in charge.

  When John and Joy neared, she said, “This is the man responsible for your rescue and release. He has a few words for all of you, so keep the noise down.”

  “All of you, regardless of your gender, can join us in our fight against the Russians or you are free. If you join us, I can promise you nothing, except two hot meals most days, a life of living in the wild, and fighting your ass off to free your country. Out of three volunteers to join the partisans, two will be dead within the first year. Only the smartest will survive living our life. If you hate the Russians and would like to murder all of them, we don't need you. I'm wanting men and women who are willing, need be, to fight and give their lives in the name of liberty. I can only promise you more hunger, poor sleep, and a chance to be proud that you freed America from the Russian Bear. If you want to serve under me, then move behind me.”

  All moved behind him except for three women who were holding babies on their hips.

  “We also need people to cook, wash clothing, work as nurses or in other noncombat jobs. If you ladies want the added security of a large group of fighters around you and on a military installation, join us.”

  Joy smiled as the three women joined the rest behind John.

  “Now, Major Barnes, see these people are assigned to various units and try to keep family and friends together if at all possible.”

  “Yes, sir. I'll fill you in when I return to the base.”

  “Good. I have to leave, one of my men is yelling for me. Good luck to each of you.” John said and then walked back toward Green and the radio.

  Ten minutes later, John was informed by headquarters he and his squad would be relocating to near Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. It was John’s old stomping grounds. But as he spoke with Joy, because she requested to be assigned to his unit, he kept their destination out of the conversation. He wanted to make sure she didn't know much, not that he didn't trust her, but as the newest member of the unit she had no need to know everything.

  Chapter 12

  That afternoon, deep in the woods behind the base, a Master Sergeant that was good friends with Petr and had been for years, whispered to him, “Stay aware and keep your eyes and ears open tonight after dark. We are preparing an attack to take the base back from the Americans.”

  They were with a bunch of other Russians, and both men were there to get their rations. Vova found the whole situation upsetting that they'd been driven from their base like a pack of rats. He was used to airborne troops who would have died before they ran.

  “I will do that. How do you like being out of an airborne unit, Rogov?” Vova asked.

  “It is okay, but I am not as proud being in a non-jumping unit. Being airborne made me proud and I felt worthwhile. Now I feel we are simply cannon fodder. The spirit is not the same and the troops are not tough enough. Most are just kid draftees and almost useless.”

  “How much longer before you retire?”

  “If I survive tonight I have less than a year. I have 121 days and a wake-up and I am a civilian again. I guess I will move back to the farm and take over from my father.”

  “At least as a farmer you will always have something to eat. Have you seen the price of meat here? Beef is insane. I have been saving half of my pay for 20 years and all I have to spend my money on is vodka because I can eat in the mess tent for free, but I like to cook and usually have foods in my room.”

  Glancing at his watch, Rogov Christov quickly said, “I need to rush. I have an appointment in twenty minutes with the new Colonel they flew in just to plan and lead the attack. You take care and remember, we may be returning to the base this evening.” The Master Sergeant had less then six hours before he would be dead.

  “You take care, and watch your ass when the lead starts flying.”

  When Petr and Olga finished getting their rations, they went by the foxholes of everyone in his squad and warned them to be loaded for bear this night. He also instructed them to request more munitions and ammo from supply if they had it to spare.

  “What is so special tonight? I can see you expect an attack or something else, but why all the ammo and munitions?” Olga asked as they moved for the foxhole they shared.

  “Did you see the Master Sergeant I was speaking to when we were getting this food? He warned me to expect us to attack this night, and I am taking his word very seriously. He used to be airborne, but hurt his back and failed his jump physical. They made him a top sergeant in a regular unit. He hates being a leg and I do not blame him.”

  “Leg?” Olga asked.

  “We call people who do not jump, 'legs,' because they walk into wars. We, on the other hand, are transported over a target and jump into our fights. Our missions are always more glitter and sparkle than a leg’s war.”

  Olga laughed and replied, “My first half a dozen jumps, I was kicked in the ass as soon as I stood
in the door. The jump-masters knew they had to kick me from the aircraft. I froze every single time. Now, I have complete confidence in my gear and I love walking off a lowered ramp in the rear of a plane. I also get a big thrill out of jumping from a helicopter.”

  “To me, jumping is just another another way to enter combat. I never thought about dying from a jump, but I have had friends die that way. I have to admit it is very, very rare though. It is safer than driving in any large city.”

  “Should you and I go by munitions and load up for the attack? If we are going on the offensive tonight, I would like to provide a good time for my enemies.”

  “I have Dimitri collecting ammo for us. He will be by our foxhole within the hour. We need to eat and then relax; taking the base back may take all night and it is sure to be tough. I honestly do not know if we can do it without close air support.”

  “Can we not call another base for help?”

  “At least one other base has fallen and a couple of others are in fights for their lives, so no, we have to make due with what we have. Other bases are too far away, like Saint Louis, to even consider and by the time they arrived, we would not need them one way or the other.”

  “I am scared, Petr.”

  “You have that right, and you would have to be dumb to not have fear. I am frightened too, but not for the same reason as you. I do not want you injured or killed, but that is why I try to avoid getting personal with anyone in my squad. Sooner or later, I know I would have to send them in harms way. If they are hurt or killed, then I would feel responsible, but I have to lead you into danger this night, maybe.”

  “I do not blame you because that is your job and in my opinion, you are the best senior NCO around. I trust your decisions and value your knowledge. We will both survive, but we may be beaten up a little when we return.”

  “It creates a problem for me. We will both be exposed to danger, maybe.”

  “I hope we survive.”

  “I do not know if we will or not, but tonight before we attack, we need to clean all bullets, check our gear, and make sure our weapons are all in good shape. Then we need to rest or sleep.”

  “I understand.” she said, and began looking her Bison over closely.

  Petr pulled an old oily rag out, tossed it to her and said, “Here, wipe it down as you look it over. I keep that rag for times like this. I use it all the time, except in winter when the oil cans freeze.”

  It was a little after midnight when the Russian army moved toward their old base, determined to regain ownership. Most of the troops were understandably nervous and Olga was fighting the urge to puke.

  “Senior Sergeant, I need you for the radio.” she said as she held the handset out for him. “It is Hotel.”

  “Monsoon to Hotel, go. Over.”

  “Spetsnaz indicates the Americans have gone as if they had never been there. Most of the supply buildings and bunkers have been ransacked, and stealing occurred, but all their troops have disappeared.”

  “Roger, understand. What are your orders, Hotel?”

  “Continue with the attack and if no Americans are there, clean the place up and make it a home again. Moscow has called all troops from the field and they will start landing at your place at about sunrise. Copy?”

  “Understand the troops in the field will start to arrive here near dawn. Will make them welcome and put them to work. Anything else going on?”

  “Not at this time. Moscow will be happy we regained control of our base and without the loss of a single man.”

  “I am sure they left some booby-traps, because they always do. It is the young and dumb that find them. Let us hope this day no one touches anything until the Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) team clears the base, but I expect us to lose a few. The partisans love to booby-trap Russian bodies or souvenirs.”

  “Copy. All I can suggest is you keep a tight leash on the young troops, so they can live long enough to be old troops. Hotel, over and out.”

  Tossing the handset to Olga, Petr smiled at her and said, “The Americans are gone. They took what they could steal and left. Spetsnaz reports they are on the base and no Yankees can be found. Now, there will be booby-traps, so do not pick up a damned thing until EOD has finished sweeping the area.”

  “I am so glad they are gone. I was worried one of us might be killed.” Olga replied in a low voice, almost a whisper, and gave him a weak smile.

  “One of us could still be killed. Just because they are gone does not mean the place is safe. They are known as experts in booby-traps and they have a thousand ways to kill people.”

  “Do you think we will go to the base this evening?”

  “We will now, for sure. Some Colonel will probably write up a report about how the brave Russian soldiers, under his leadership, regained control of the base without the loss of a single soldier. He will get a medal and we will get nothing. He will be promoted and move on up into the senior officer ranks. I have seen it often in the past.”

  “I do not care what they do. I am happy in my own little world, which consists of you and my squad. Most of Russia thinks we fight for our country, but that is not exactly true. I fight to protect myself and my brothers and sisters in my squad. I fight to live, so I can make love to you once more.”

  Senior Sergeant Vova smiled and said, “Good. Now, let me get everyone awake and up. We need to be ready to go at any time. I know the Commanders all got the same call I did and they will be leaving as soon as possible. This way they can have a glorious return to the base we ran from. Hopefully Moscow will not start lopping off heads.”

  “Senior Sergeant, Colonel Yurievich wants to see you right now. He said it was urgent.” a private said as he neared the Sergeant and Olga.

  “Tell him, I will be right there.” He bent over to pick up his gear and weapons. He was tired of war, fight or no fight. He wanted to rest in a rocking chair on the front porch of his beet farm and sip vodka. He had been in the army so long he felt he could sleep a year or more. Putting his heavy helmet on, he moved toward their temporary headquarters in the woods. Time to retake their base.

  They walked into the base through the front gate, found the Spetsnaz team drinking, and the only warning they had was, “Touch nothing. There are many booby-traps in this base.”

  The young troops moved over the grasses as if they were on a picnic and just as Vova was about to warn them, a woman in another unit stepped on an antipersonnel mine. She went up in the a wall of white and red, with a loud explosion, followed by a shrieking scream of pain.

  “Medic!” someone yelled and Vova watched the medic run to the woman and quickly stuck a syringe of morphine in her arm. Slowly her screaming began to stop. The medic saw one leg missing and the other was so mangled it would be removed too, but in a hospital. Hearing a helicopter nearing, the medic screamed, “Someone contact that aircraft and see if I can put my patent in the helicopter to return to a hospital. Without a doctor she will bleed out in 45 minutes. She needs more help than I can give her and the helicopter has the needed medical supplies on board.”

  Olga handed the handset to the Senior Sergeant who said, “Hello any Russian aircraft near the base, respond. This is Monsoon Two. I have need of a medical evacuation and need your help, over.”

  “Uh, Monsoon, this is Bumble Bee two. We are due at the base in two mikes, over.”

  “Roger that. Can you take a patient out for me that will die without fast medical treatment?”

  “Can do and will unload my passengers at your location. I need you to pop smoke, so I can locate you and check the wind direction, over.”

  “Medic, I have a helicopter coming for her, so get her ready to leave. He will be here in a couple of minutes.” the Senior Sergeant yelled, popped a purple smoke grenade, and then said, “Bumble Bee, what color do you see?”

  “Purple, is that you?”

  “Roger that. Do you have me in sight yet?”

  “Roger, and I am coming down. Wait for the passengers to lea
ve, then have her loaded in the cargo area. You will need to send a medic with her, because mine stayed behind to treat wounded.”

  “Medic! When she is placed on the aircraft, you go too. The aircraft has no medic on board and you will be needed on the flight back. Gather up your tools and supplies, he is coming down now.”

  The medic waved a bloody hand and stood holding one end of a poncho; another man was holding the front and they'd pack her to the aircraft.

  The helicopter made a safe landing, soldiers ran from the cargo hold and then the medic ran for the open compartment and lifted the injured woman into the aircraft. Then the medic climbed in behind her. A few seconds later the helicopter rose, lowered the nose and applied power. In three minutes they were out of sight, but whop-whop-whop was still faintly heard.

  “Watch where you step, people. The Americans were here 12 hours ago, so any mines should have damp dirt on top and that soil will be a different color. Avoid stepping on any discolored soil. Do not forget trip wires and do not touch any dead, ours or theirs. They love to booby-trap the dead.”

  Off in the distance there came a huge explosion and Petr knew the gasoline storage tank had gone up by the oily looking black smoke that was rising to meet the low gray cloud cover overhead. He knew the JP-4 and JP8 tanks had gone up during the battle. The only tank left now was a smaller tank of processed oil used by the motor pool and flight line. He wondered how many the blast had killed, because it obviously was booby-trapped. He shook his head. Now they would have a shortage of petroleum, oils, and liquids (POL) and that would make the base more difficult to protect. Helicopters need, like a truck, fuel and oil or they could not be used.

  Before the repossession of the base was complete, ten troops died clearing booby-traps or for doing something dumb they shouldn't have done, with 12 slightly injured and 3 wounded severely. The booby-trap at the Mo Gas storage area killed another six men and women, and injured 23 others. The Colonel was very pleased with his kill ratio, because he killed over 516 Americans, or so he'd report to Moscow. He'd simply add the Americans that died in the original assault and the troops took hundreds of photos of the American bodies with him in the photo. He'd fax them to Moscow today and when the planes were flying again, he'd send the glossy images, 8X10 color images, out by special carrier. So, with a little over 60 troops killed and maimed, he had the bodies of over 500 Americans stacked like firewood near a taxiway on the airfield.