Read Online ' The Longest Night ' & ' Crossing the Rubicon ': The Original Map Illustrated and Uncut Final Volume (Armageddon's Song) by Andy Farman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andy Farman
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switched off the set. He gripped the field radio on his drivers back, and kept him firmly against the earth.
"Americans sir!" he whispered hoarsely "What are the Yankees doing here?"
"I think we can safely conclude that they are not the NATO Peace Delegation and they are not here to surrender, young man." Limanova replied.
From the sounds of rustling in the undergrowth ahead he thought they must have sent out searchers to check for bodies in the kill zone' and when they found no human ones they would send out a clearance patrol, maybe? It was time to sneak away.
Having been caught on the wrong foot by the approach of an enemy from an unexpected direction, the Green Beret commander gave consideration to sending out a patrol but quickly dismissed it. He did not have the numbers available to patrol offensively so he chose the hunker-down option.
The hasty ambush had been sprung on nothing more sinister than a bigger than normal bunny but he was positive they had just missed the intended target. A radio transmission close in to the ambush site, during the ambush, was proof enough for him. They had been compromised but he was certain the enemy had no idea what they were dealing with and would assume they were the band of deserters. The militia was still milling around in the woods at night and it would be dawn before they got their act together. Long before the first rays appeared the F-117X would have returned, refueled and departed, as indeed would he, his men and their rather attractive contact with the flashing, come-hither, green eyes who spoke English with an upper class Oxford accent and Russian like a native.
The northwest listening post reported in, having heard a diesel engine vehicle start up rather noisily and depart to the north east. He did not stop to question why they had not heard its approach though, and that could have altered his decision making.
At the edge of the forest the commander of the sub district stood in the light from the headlamps of his own BMP command vehicle, staring at a map of the area as if looking for a sign, some clue as to how to reunite his units here in the open where transport could move them to the airstrip. Raindrops landed upon the clear plastic of the map case. The star filled vista from the early evening was gone as a weather front from the west finally reached them.
His head snapped up and towards the sound of the other BMP’s approach, and to describe Lieutenant Colonel Boskoff as furious was something of an understatement. He was shaking with rage as Major Limanova exited the BMP-1, and having shouldered the field radio before approaching his superior he failed to salute, let alone attempt to apologise for his outburst on the command channel, not that such a severe breach of discipline could ever be forgiven or overlooked.
“What have you to say Limanova, what have you to say for yourself?” he screamed.
There were just the four of them at the forests edge, the two officers and their drivers. He would have relieved Limanova there and then but regulations dictated another Major would have to escort his deputy into custody. The only other major was in the forest somewhere on the commander’s orders, attempting to locate and rally the men but now as lost as they were, along with the captain and lieutenant who had preceded him, also with the same orders.
If the commander expected a response from his deputy he was to be disappointed.
Major Limanova placed the field radio on the ground between them and held out the telephone handset to the sub district commander.
“The District Commander would like a word.”
Snatching the handset the commander listened for several moments before responding.
“Colonel…sir, I do not know what idiocy Limanova has been spouting to you but yes, we are the closest unit but it is utterly impossible to do anything in the dark, the fool got everyone lost so we must wait for the dawn….”
A rebuke from the other end
"Americans sir!" he whispered hoarsely "What are the Yankees doing here?"
"I think we can safely conclude that they are not the NATO Peace Delegation and they are not here to surrender, young man." Limanova replied.
From the sounds of rustling in the undergrowth ahead he thought they must have sent out searchers to check for bodies in the kill zone' and when they found no human ones they would send out a clearance patrol, maybe? It was time to sneak away.
Having been caught on the wrong foot by the approach of an enemy from an unexpected direction, the Green Beret commander gave consideration to sending out a patrol but quickly dismissed it. He did not have the numbers available to patrol offensively so he chose the hunker-down option.
The hasty ambush had been sprung on nothing more sinister than a bigger than normal bunny but he was positive they had just missed the intended target. A radio transmission close in to the ambush site, during the ambush, was proof enough for him. They had been compromised but he was certain the enemy had no idea what they were dealing with and would assume they were the band of deserters. The militia was still milling around in the woods at night and it would be dawn before they got their act together. Long before the first rays appeared the F-117X would have returned, refueled and departed, as indeed would he, his men and their rather attractive contact with the flashing, come-hither, green eyes who spoke English with an upper class Oxford accent and Russian like a native.
The northwest listening post reported in, having heard a diesel engine vehicle start up rather noisily and depart to the north east. He did not stop to question why they had not heard its approach though, and that could have altered his decision making.
At the edge of the forest the commander of the sub district stood in the light from the headlamps of his own BMP command vehicle, staring at a map of the area as if looking for a sign, some clue as to how to reunite his units here in the open where transport could move them to the airstrip. Raindrops landed upon the clear plastic of the map case. The star filled vista from the early evening was gone as a weather front from the west finally reached them.
His head snapped up and towards the sound of the other BMP’s approach, and to describe Lieutenant Colonel Boskoff as furious was something of an understatement. He was shaking with rage as Major Limanova exited the BMP-1, and having shouldered the field radio before approaching his superior he failed to salute, let alone attempt to apologise for his outburst on the command channel, not that such a severe breach of discipline could ever be forgiven or overlooked.
“What have you to say Limanova, what have you to say for yourself?” he screamed.
There were just the four of them at the forests edge, the two officers and their drivers. He would have relieved Limanova there and then but regulations dictated another Major would have to escort his deputy into custody. The only other major was in the forest somewhere on the commander’s orders, attempting to locate and rally the men but now as lost as they were, along with the captain and lieutenant who had preceded him, also with the same orders.
If the commander expected a response from his deputy he was to be disappointed.
Major Limanova placed the field radio on the ground between them and held out the telephone handset to the sub district commander.
“The District Commander would like a word.”
Snatching the handset the commander listened for several moments before responding.
“Colonel…sir, I do not know what idiocy Limanova has been spouting to you but yes, we are the closest unit but it is utterly impossible to do anything in the dark, the fool got everyone lost so we must wait for the dawn….”
A rebuke from the other end
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