The Fall of America: Enemy Within (Book 3) Read Free Page A

man fell, with a long finger of blood shooting from his back, and then the shot was heard. Unlike the first man, this one continued to scream as his fingers dug into the mud and his legs kicked in all directions. Private Elout moved to the injured man and, as he was dragging him to safety, a bullet burned his ribs. The minor injury just made him move faster.
    “Does anyone know where the sniper is?”  Lieutenant Markov asked.
    “I would estimate a thousand yards or more, to the north of us, sir.” Rusak replied.
    “Sir, we need another helicopter, if we can get one.” the medic said.
    “Give me a minute.” Markov replied.
    He took the handset from his radio man, stood and spoke. A few minutes later, he said, “Rain due to hit at any time, huge front with high winds, so the helicopter commander and operations officer declined our request. Can you keep Private Gavlik alive?”
    “He is lung shot and I can keep him alive, only I am not sure for how long.”
    It was growing darker now and Rusak knew the sniper was long gone or he would have killed the Lieutenant when he stood to make the call for help. “Two of you men get a shelter over our injured man and medic. Then, each of you buddy up and construct shelters of your own. Sergeant Bluska, see that this is done properly.”
    “I'll see to it, Master Sergeant.”
    A bright flash of lightning filled the sky and a dull boom was heard a second later. Rusak felt a gentle breeze and then rain began to fall. He glanced at the western horizon and saw a long finger of light and as he watched, it exploded into many smaller fingers, and an earsplitting crack was heard.
    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