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

This will be a rough storm from what I see,
he thought as he pulled his poncho from his gear and put it on. He watched as shelters were completed and men crawled under scant protection offered from the storm.

He moved into his shelter and seconds later hailstones began to fall. They were small at first, about the size of the tip of his little finger, but soon grew larger. Before long, the hailstones were huge, near baseball size and men began to scream as their poorly made shelters fell apart. Most moved into shelters of their friends, while a couple stood under trees. Rusak had never seen stones of ice so large, and he knew the American weather was dangerous too. As a professional soldier, where the Master Sergeant was assigned mattered little to him. He'd do his thirty years and retire to a small village or farm. He started his career unmarried, not wanting a wife to worry about while serving, but enjoyed the company of women, so he married Esfir.
I need a drink of vodka,
he thought as he pulled a metal flask from his coat pocket. Taking a healthy gulp, he then pulled out a ration and began to eat his supper.

Once the hail stopped, Senior Sergeant Shubin was up and moving in the rain, telling his troops to fix their battered shelters because heavy winds and rains were due to hit again and any minute. Men scurried in all directions to prepare, but Rusak knew some of the men would sleep poorly this night.

Morning came with a veil of white mist covering the swamp. While the rains had stopped, dark gray clouds were hanging low overhead, and all knew they'd be wet again before this day was done.

Lieutenant Markov walked to Rusak and said, “A helicopter overhead last evening, just before the rain, discovered the partisans have broken into small groups and are moving quickly in all directions. Our infrared gear picked up their body heat, only the storm hit before we could attack. I have a map here with marked locations of trails they were on and the one we are on now had about fifty partisans on it yesterday.”

Glancing at the map, the Master Sergeant said, “Sir, there are countless trails connecting to this one, so it is hard to say if they are still on this trail or not. I will alert our point man, but there is little we can do.”

“I realize that, Sergeant, but during the night some big guns were brought forward in the event we run into more than we can handle.”

“What kind of guns, sir?”

“I was told by Colonel Sokol that a dozen T-90 tanks are available if we have the need for cannons.”

“I suspect they are on the edge of the swamp, so let us pray if we run into any large groups of Americans, we are within range of the tanks.  I don't know their range, but I think it would be smart not to depend on them for help. I learned years ago, in battle, the only man I can fully trust is myself.”

“Get the men moving and let us get this over with, but warn our point man.”

“Sergeant Bluska, get the men moving. Intelligence reports large groups of partisans may be on this trail, so have the point man use caution. Also, slip another man between us and the point man as well.”

An hour later as they moved over the trail, one of the new men said, “Look at the size of that snake.”

“Which one?” an unknown voice asked.

“On the right, about thirty meters.”

“Stop the small talk. Save this shit for later once in camp.” Junior Sergeant Shubin said and then thought,
Damn, that thing must be over two meters long, and fat too. I do not like spiders or snakes.

Suddenly the point man stopped, as well as the middle man, and both had their hands in the air, indicating trouble. The main group came to a stop and heads turned, scanning the swamp. Shubin noticed a half-dozen gators and three snakes, but nothing human moving.

The second man moved toward the main group and when at Lieutenant Markov, he whispered, “Large group spotted moving toward us. I would estimate contact with their point man in five minutes or less.”

B
right search lights flashed as they circled the gulag in Edwards, Mississippi, but nothing was spotted moving. Men with huge dogs, walked in the middle of two fences, and both barbed barriers were charged with high electrical current. Razor wire lined the top of both fences, all the way around the camp perimeter, and so far, no one had escaped. The gulag now had ten unheated barracks for the prisoners, and they needed more. At last count over three thousand prisoners were held captive, with most having committed no crime other than being rounded up as hostages for retaliation of partisan actions. Some were used for executions, while others were used in experiments at the base hospital, but most were simply starving to death. It was an hour before daylight.

Mark, like everyone at the gulag, was thin, had bleeding gums from scurvy, and his eyesight was poor as well, all the results of malnutrition. There were three others with him and they were sitting beside a small fire outside the barracks. The barracks were so overfilled that a good thousand slept on the ground, unable to squeeze into the crude structures, and being exposed to the elements led to many early deaths.

The other three were Lewis, who was tall and had once been a police officer, George, a retired Air Force Lieutenant Colonel, and May, who'd been captured as she carried messages for the partisans, but she'd managed to eat them before being seized. She'd played dumb and after being raped numerous times by the troops who'd caught her, was locked up with the rest.

“The Colonel says we're to go out tomorrow night.”

“I'm ready.” Lewis said and then grinned.

May said, “Me too, but I worry about finding partisans.”

George grinned and said, “We'll find them, and then come back and kick some Russian ass.  These sons-of-bitches owe me. I live for revenge.”

Adding another twig to the ever hungry flames, Mark said, “Revenge is fine, as long as you control it.”

“What's that suppose to mean?” May asked.

“It means it has it's place in life, unless you become preoccupied with revenge, because then it becomes dangerous. It can make a man take dangerous risks or do things that otherwise he'd never do, and all in the name of avenging a wrong. I live for life, I want revenge and every chance I get, I'll kill Russians. Nonetheless, I'll not place myself or others at risk to exact my revenge, understand?”

People began to assemble for the morning meal, which consisted of water-downed cabbage soup with some kind of meat and rice in it. As near as Mark could figure they were slowly dying, being starved to death on a diet of less than 900 calories a day. However, the four of them were eating better than the average prisoner and it was because of the mission they were selected for. Prisoners who did all the manual work in the kitchen of the camp, most were prior chefs or professional cooks, stole as much food as they could safely take out. This food was brought into the concentration camp and fed to the four of them. Even with this food, they were getting little, when compared to times before capture.

The four stood and moved through the serving line, each eating everything in the cup, even gristle, fat, and even hairy skin at times. They had to eat in order to be strong enough to escape and leave they would, just as soon as the tunnel was complete. According to the Colonel they were to be within a few inches of the surface tonight. If so, then tomorrow night, a little after midnight, they'd make a break.

It took little time to eat the contents of the cup and once done, the four sat by the fire. Mark looked around quickly and then said, “We need to reach help or many of these people will be dead within a month. One cup of slop the Russians call soup twice a day will not keep them alive. At least when they were feeding them three cups a day a person had a chance, but it was a slim one.”

“According to the Colonel, the rations were cut because the partisans were attacking truck convoys running between Edwards and Jackson.” May said.

“Bullshit. Most of the food comes up the Mississip' by barge, not into Jackson by air.”

“How do you know this?” George asked as he turned to face the man.

“Simple, I used to attack the convoys. I was once part of the resistance. I was picked up in my brother's home, gave a fake name and here I am.”

“What happened to your brother?” May asked.

“He'd been hanged early on and I was there providing for his family.”

“Was his wife still alive?”  Lewis asked with a grin that suggested much more.

Mark grew angry and said, “It was nothing like that, not at all, so wipe that smile off your face.  I stole some vegetables and bought some meat for them is all.  I had no one except his family and I  don't know what happened to them after I was arrested.”

The Colonel walked from around one of the corners of a barracks and made his way to the small group. Once there, he squatted by the fire and held his palms out to warm. Looking around he said, “There's been a change in the mission. You'll go out tonight. Apparently the Russians have some sophisticated electronics that may have picked up the sounds of our digging. They've been out all day probing, so we've moved the schedule up. It's imperative that at least one of you gets to the resistance and informs them of our situation here. Understood? All else is the same, except you leave this evening.”

All four nodded, the Colonel stood, and then he walked away.

“I'd suggest we all try to sleep for a few hours. God only knows what we'll run into tonight.” Mark said, and then curled up in the dirt beside the fire to sleep.

The night was dark and the spotlights were once more stabbing into the darkness, looking for movement or something out of place. The escapees were late and it was almost an hour before sunrise.  None of the four saw the lights; they were underneath the earth crawling through a tunnel toward an opened hole just outside the wire. A shortness of air and dust being kicked into the air caused an occasional cough. Finally, Mark smelled fresh air and the tunnel curved toward the surface. Looking straight up, he could see stars.

He crouched beneath the opening and slowly stood up. When his head cleared, he watched the lights hoping to spot a pattern and, after a couple of minutes, he noticed the guard always moved the beam left first and then right. He moved the light slowly with many long minutes before he'd return to the same spot.

“When we go, we all go at the same time. Rush out as quickly as you can.”  he whispered, knowing one or two would not make it out before the light was near the tunnel again.

“Okay.” May whispered and she was right behind him.

He waited until the light moved over the hole and then moved up.  In less than a minute he was up and out of the hole running hard for the woods. Once in the trees, he stopped to see what would happen to the others. He saw May up and out, then Lewis, and they were both moving for the trees.  

George was half out of the hole when a machine-gun in a tower opened up just as a bright beam of light struck him. Dirt was knocked high into the air and the man's body danced insanely as bullets passed through him. A loud scream filled the night air. His left arm flew from his body and when each bullet struck, a long finger of blood followed as it exited his back. He fell back into the hole, dead, with the one remaining arm sticking up and his hand balled into a fist. One finger slowly moved to open and it quivered a few seconds before stopping. The hand cast an eerie shadow on the grasses.

“Move! Move and do it now!” Mark said and started running north through the woods.

“Follow me,” May said, “I was raised in Edwards, remember?”

“Sonofabitch, did you see what that big gun did to George?  It tore his ass to pieces!”

“Lewis,” Mark said, “shut the hell up and keep it shut.  Right now we need some distance between us and this gulag.”

At that point, dogs were heard barking and a siren went off.

“May, lead the way; let's go.”

Once deep in the woods, it became harder and harder to see, so Mark said, “Do you know a quick way out of here?”

“Sure, off our left, oh, maybe five hundred feet, is the town.”

“Move there, now. We can't see well enough to walk in this shit. And, move faster.”