ahead of time the food would give him indigestion. He pulled a flask, one of three he carried, and took a long pull of vodka. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.
“Radio man, call in our exact position.” Lieutenant Markov said to his new radio operator.
“Yes, sir.”
The radio man was heard giving the coordinates and then said, “Sir, Colonel Sokol wants to speak with you.” He held the handset out so the Lieutenant could take it.
“Yes, sir. Yes, we will be ready, sir. Out.” The officer then handed the handset back to his radio man and said, “Master Sergeant Rusak, we will be picked up by helicopters tomorrow morning, weather permitting, but we will not be returning to base. Intelligence has a spy working with the Americans and has learned there is a larger number of partisans south of Edwards. The helicopters will drop us off there. Our mission is to kill or capture anyone we find in the area.”
“We will be ready, sir.” Rusak replied. It was nothing new to him and he was used to being flown here or there and ordered to make contact with the enemy. It is probable, he thought, that all we will find are booby-traps, mines, and snipers, but I will not say a word. This Lieutenant is a fast learner, and I hope he lasts longer than the ones before him.
The Colonel sat in the metal chair, as Colonel Alvang picked up the gas can and neared. The Russian wore an evil smile, because the sadist he was, he enjoyed hurting and killing others. He especially enjoyed torturing women, who he always abused sexually before putting them to death. If Satan had a human equal, it was Colonel Alvang.
“Colonel, I will ask you once more, who else knows of this organization you have inside the gulag? Who else knew of the escape plans? I want names, or you will die a most horrible death.”
“Go to hell, you Russian bastard. You'll kill me anyway.” While the Colonel was a brave man, burning to death scared the hell out of him and this man was crazy enough to do the job.
“I give you my word, as a fellow officer, if you name the people involved, I will spare your life.”
I can't give him the real names or we'll fail as a unit. Damn me, I don't want to die by fire. If I give innocent names, then I'll have to live with the deaths of a half dozen people hanging over me the rest of my life. This is the hardest decision I've ever made, the Colonel thought as he watched Alvang remove the lid to the gas can.
Giving the Colonel a questioning look, Alvang asked, “What is your final answer? Your life for a handful of useless Americans? Perhaps I can get your attention by giving you a sample of death by fire.”
“Private Budian, bring another metal chair out here and then get a prisoner from one of the cells. It matters little which one, but a woman would be best.”
As they waited, the chair was brought out and positioned near the metal fence that ran around the perimeter of the camp. The Private then left to bring a prisoner.
“I noticed the look in your eyes when I asked for a female prisoner, Colonel; does it bother you that you will cause her death? I understand it's a very painful death, too.”
“Her death will be on your hands, you Russian sonofabitch, not mine.”
“On the contrary, Colonel, because all you have to do is give me names.”
“Go to hell!”
“Oh, I imagine I will Colonel, but you will be there years before I arrive.”
The Colonel glared at the Russian, knowing he would burn a guiltless person alive, just to scare him into talking. Lord, God, please forgive me, but I can't talk, he silently prayed.
Private Budian returned with a woman who'd had the hell beat out of her. He pushed her roughly into the chair and began shackling her in place. From what the Colonel could see, she was in her early fifties, had once been a beautiful woman, but now she was covered in bruises, small cuts and burns.
Alvang glanced at the Colonel and asked, “Well?”
“No!”
The
“Radio man, call in our exact position.” Lieutenant Markov said to his new radio operator.
“Yes, sir.”
The radio man was heard giving the coordinates and then said, “Sir, Colonel Sokol wants to speak with you.” He held the handset out so the Lieutenant could take it.
“Yes, sir. Yes, we will be ready, sir. Out.” The officer then handed the handset back to his radio man and said, “Master Sergeant Rusak, we will be picked up by helicopters tomorrow morning, weather permitting, but we will not be returning to base. Intelligence has a spy working with the Americans and has learned there is a larger number of partisans south of Edwards. The helicopters will drop us off there. Our mission is to kill or capture anyone we find in the area.”
“We will be ready, sir.” Rusak replied. It was nothing new to him and he was used to being flown here or there and ordered to make contact with the enemy. It is probable, he thought, that all we will find are booby-traps, mines, and snipers, but I will not say a word. This Lieutenant is a fast learner, and I hope he lasts longer than the ones before him.
The Colonel sat in the metal chair, as Colonel Alvang picked up the gas can and neared. The Russian wore an evil smile, because the sadist he was, he enjoyed hurting and killing others. He especially enjoyed torturing women, who he always abused sexually before putting them to death. If Satan had a human equal, it was Colonel Alvang.
“Colonel, I will ask you once more, who else knows of this organization you have inside the gulag? Who else knew of the escape plans? I want names, or you will die a most horrible death.”
“Go to hell, you Russian bastard. You'll kill me anyway.” While the Colonel was a brave man, burning to death scared the hell out of him and this man was crazy enough to do the job.
“I give you my word, as a fellow officer, if you name the people involved, I will spare your life.”
I can't give him the real names or we'll fail as a unit. Damn me, I don't want to die by fire. If I give innocent names, then I'll have to live with the deaths of a half dozen people hanging over me the rest of my life. This is the hardest decision I've ever made, the Colonel thought as he watched Alvang remove the lid to the gas can.
Giving the Colonel a questioning look, Alvang asked, “What is your final answer? Your life for a handful of useless Americans? Perhaps I can get your attention by giving you a sample of death by fire.”
“Private Budian, bring another metal chair out here and then get a prisoner from one of the cells. It matters little which one, but a woman would be best.”
As they waited, the chair was brought out and positioned near the metal fence that ran around the perimeter of the camp. The Private then left to bring a prisoner.
“I noticed the look in your eyes when I asked for a female prisoner, Colonel; does it bother you that you will cause her death? I understand it's a very painful death, too.”
“Her death will be on your hands, you Russian sonofabitch, not mine.”
“On the contrary, Colonel, because all you have to do is give me names.”
“Go to hell!”
“Oh, I imagine I will Colonel, but you will be there years before I arrive.”
The Colonel glared at the Russian, knowing he would burn a guiltless person alive, just to scare him into talking. Lord, God, please forgive me, but I can't talk, he silently prayed.
Private Budian returned with a woman who'd had the hell beat out of her. He pushed her roughly into the chair and began shackling her in place. From what the Colonel could see, she was in her early fifties, had once been a beautiful woman, but now she was covered in bruises, small cuts and burns.
Alvang glanced at the Colonel and asked, “Well?”
“No!”
The
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