Read Online Echo Six: Black Ops 8 - ISIS Killing Fields by Eric Meyer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eric Meyer
Tags: thriller, Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery, War & Military, Genre Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, War, Men's Adventure, Thriller & Suspense
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Rostov.
"You're flying another mission this morning, Captain."
"That's correct, Major, Al-Bukamal, close to the Iraq border. Our intelligence people say the rebels have been using the town as a staging post for arms and troops, bringing them into Syria."
Rostov drew his thick lips back in a contented sneer. "I know where you're going, Captain. I spoke to the military commander last night. Colonel Demidov agreed with me. Your planes would be more use to us attacking the rebel held parts of Palmyra."
He felt his anger begin to rise. If Demidov wanted to change his orders, he should come straight to him, not pass it on through this psychotic bully. "I take it you made the Colonel aware of the civilians in the area you want us to attack."
He smirked. "I did. The Colonel, and I quote, said, "Fuck the civilians. Bomb the savages back to the Stone Age. I suggest you go talk to him, Captain Semyonov. He'll tell you the same. When the job's done, we're sending in the gunships to stir up the rubble. Make sure there aren't any survivors."
"I will. Now get out of my way, Major. I've got work to do."
"In Palmyra." The other man’s voice was harsh.
He climbed back into the jeep, a GAZ Tiger, the approximate equivalent of the American Humvee, and roared away. Semyonov considered confronting Demidov right away but then changed his mind.
"Fuck Demidov. If he wants me to bomb civilians, he can tell me himself. I've got work to do."
He carried on walking until he reached the end Sukhoi. His wingman, First Lieutenant Vladimir Borodin, was engaged in the walkaround check, tugging at the control surfaces and checking the missile attachments to the wing hardpoints. Borodin saw him coming and waved a greeting.
"Captain, you're late this morning. What did The Pig have to say to you?"
Major Rostov had a pink face with thick, round lips and tiny, beady eyes. Vladimir nicknamed him The Pig the day he arrived, although not to his face. Rostov was not the kind of man you'd cross. Most psychotic killers weren't. He told him about the change of plan for the morning raid.
"Palmyra, that place again?" Borodin wiped his forehead as he digested the news. It left a black, greasy mark like war paint, "They know the rebels have mingled with the civilians, surely?"
"They know."
"And they want us to attack, just the same?" He scowled, "You need to talk to Demidov and shake out the rules of engagement. We're flyers, Yuri, not murderers."
The Lieutenant was right. "I'll go see him now. Tell the ground crew to have my aircraft ready to fly. Assuming they don't court martial me for disobeying an order."
He stared at the implacable face of Colonel Demidov.
"I could court martial you for disobeying an order, Captain Semyonov."
He was careful to keep his expression neutral, knowing he trod a fine line between legitimate protest and mutiny. "Yes, Sir. With respect, I believe there's a question of a possible war crime being committed here. I mean to say, Palmyra is..."
He didn't get any further. Demidov's fist slammed down on his desk. "I know there's a fucking war crime being committed, you fool. ISIS controls the town, and when they're not busy destroying ancient monuments and buildings, they're raping and executing the locals. That's what I call a fucking war crime, Captain. We're trying to stop them."
He held up his hand as Semyonov tried to go on, "No, no, I know what you're about to say. It doesn't justify us dropping our munitions on their heads. I see that, but what choice do we have? If we do nothing, more civilians will die and ISIS continues on their orgy of rape and murder. If we bomb, sure, a few civilian casualties will be inevitable. The Americans call it collateral damage. At least it'll enable us to beat the bastards and go home."
"Sir, I understand. Although I believe we should look at the targets again. Major Rostov wants us to carpet bomb the city, unless I've missed something."
Demidov chuckled. "I'm sure you're right. The Major is
"You're flying another mission this morning, Captain."
"That's correct, Major, Al-Bukamal, close to the Iraq border. Our intelligence people say the rebels have been using the town as a staging post for arms and troops, bringing them into Syria."
Rostov drew his thick lips back in a contented sneer. "I know where you're going, Captain. I spoke to the military commander last night. Colonel Demidov agreed with me. Your planes would be more use to us attacking the rebel held parts of Palmyra."
He felt his anger begin to rise. If Demidov wanted to change his orders, he should come straight to him, not pass it on through this psychotic bully. "I take it you made the Colonel aware of the civilians in the area you want us to attack."
He smirked. "I did. The Colonel, and I quote, said, "Fuck the civilians. Bomb the savages back to the Stone Age. I suggest you go talk to him, Captain Semyonov. He'll tell you the same. When the job's done, we're sending in the gunships to stir up the rubble. Make sure there aren't any survivors."
"I will. Now get out of my way, Major. I've got work to do."
"In Palmyra." The other man’s voice was harsh.
He climbed back into the jeep, a GAZ Tiger, the approximate equivalent of the American Humvee, and roared away. Semyonov considered confronting Demidov right away but then changed his mind.
"Fuck Demidov. If he wants me to bomb civilians, he can tell me himself. I've got work to do."
He carried on walking until he reached the end Sukhoi. His wingman, First Lieutenant Vladimir Borodin, was engaged in the walkaround check, tugging at the control surfaces and checking the missile attachments to the wing hardpoints. Borodin saw him coming and waved a greeting.
"Captain, you're late this morning. What did The Pig have to say to you?"
Major Rostov had a pink face with thick, round lips and tiny, beady eyes. Vladimir nicknamed him The Pig the day he arrived, although not to his face. Rostov was not the kind of man you'd cross. Most psychotic killers weren't. He told him about the change of plan for the morning raid.
"Palmyra, that place again?" Borodin wiped his forehead as he digested the news. It left a black, greasy mark like war paint, "They know the rebels have mingled with the civilians, surely?"
"They know."
"And they want us to attack, just the same?" He scowled, "You need to talk to Demidov and shake out the rules of engagement. We're flyers, Yuri, not murderers."
The Lieutenant was right. "I'll go see him now. Tell the ground crew to have my aircraft ready to fly. Assuming they don't court martial me for disobeying an order."
He stared at the implacable face of Colonel Demidov.
"I could court martial you for disobeying an order, Captain Semyonov."
He was careful to keep his expression neutral, knowing he trod a fine line between legitimate protest and mutiny. "Yes, Sir. With respect, I believe there's a question of a possible war crime being committed here. I mean to say, Palmyra is..."
He didn't get any further. Demidov's fist slammed down on his desk. "I know there's a fucking war crime being committed, you fool. ISIS controls the town, and when they're not busy destroying ancient monuments and buildings, they're raping and executing the locals. That's what I call a fucking war crime, Captain. We're trying to stop them."
He held up his hand as Semyonov tried to go on, "No, no, I know what you're about to say. It doesn't justify us dropping our munitions on their heads. I see that, but what choice do we have? If we do nothing, more civilians will die and ISIS continues on their orgy of rape and murder. If we bomb, sure, a few civilian casualties will be inevitable. The Americans call it collateral damage. At least it'll enable us to beat the bastards and go home."
"Sir, I understand. Although I believe we should look at the targets again. Major Rostov wants us to carpet bomb the city, unless I've missed something."
Demidov chuckled. "I'm sure you're right. The Major is
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