Pennick looked over at his copilot, Captain Jay Sweeney. “Take it a minute so I can stretch out some,” he said.
“My airplane,” came the reply.
Pennick stretched in his seat. Despite the comfort built into the seats of the aircraft, long flights were hell on the rear end. Moving around in his seat he tried to limber up again. It was no use. He reached back and grabbed a bottle of water and drank down about half of it. “I’m getting too old for this shit,” he said as he put the bottle back into its holder and sat back into the seat. He keyed the mike. “How soon to target?”
“One more hour, Major,” said the Offensive Systems Officer (OSO). “By the way, we just passed into Russian airspace.”
“More good news,” the Major said. “Well if your butt can take it, so can mine. Is the targeting set up through the link?”
“All set, Boss. I have been updating it for the last hour just to have something to do. We’ll be dropping seventy this go round. That will leave us with another 26 to play with. I expanded out towards the corridor and see a bunch of things that way. We’ll be home in time for supper,” said the OSO.
“Just as long as I can sit in one of those hot tubs for about an hour,” said Sweeney. “It will take that long to get the wrinkles out from all this sitting.”
There were chuckled from the rest of the crew. “Well, let’s get back to business,” said Pennick. “Keep an eye open for the bad guys. Maybe we’ll get home anyway,” he said.
The hour passed uneventfully. No enemy fighters rose to meet them. It was about as exciting as watching paint dry. The closer they came to the target, the more things got exciting. Pennick went through the checkoff list and got everything ready. The OSO was busy counting down the miles and times while the Defensive Systems Operator or DSO kept his eyes glued to his instruments. Despite the fact that there were no enemy fighters, the men on the bomber were sweating.
“Systems lock. Launch sequence start. Bomb bay doors opening in ten seconds,” said the OSO. Now the bomber was on autopilot and the bombs would be dropped automatically by the computer. The doors opened and the men inside could hear the rush of air as the doors changed the aerodynamics of the aircraft. “Bombs away,” said OSO.
The bombs were dropped individually in a rapid succession. As they left the plane, they nosed down toward their target and a set of wings spread and stabilized the bomb. Inside the seeker, the computer matched a target with the target designation fed to it by the link. Once correctly identified, the bomb nosed down even further and plunged into its target, a T-14 main battle tank. The warhead penetrated the top of the tank’s turret before it exploded, sending the turret high into the air after igniting the ammunition inside. By the time Pennick and his squadron had left the area, there was not a tank left untouched. Most were burning fiercely.
“Okay, folks, let’s go hunting,” Pennick said to his crew. The squadron broke up and made their way along a corridor where the supplies and equipment were coming in.
In the command center the people were almost cheering with each strike. There were two large groups going after the two largest concentrations of equipment. In two adjacent sections of the room the cameras from Eyeball had been focused on the two staging areas. Each hit was graphically displayed for the command team. Once the bomb runs were complete, a damage assessment was done to see if there would be another strike.
“My god, this isn’t warfare, it’s like being in a slaughterhouse,” said one of the men.
Hammond overheard and turned to him. “Yes, and that’s why we are showing that warfare on this kind of scale can no longer be afforded,” he said. Hammond pointed to the destruction. “How many people do you think have been killed? A few hundred? A thousand? If those tanks had crews in them it means we have killed over five thousand people in that one run alone. They didn’t stand a chance. With the kind of technology we have today, we can see everything that goes on anywhere. There’s not much of a way they can hide anything. With this new cloak, they can’t see us coming. Even if they did, they couldn’t lock onto us. It’s like Patton said about the so-called push button warfare. There’s no honor, no heroes, just people living and people dead. If we’re lucky, this will be the last war. But I doubt we will be that lucky,” he said sadly. He caught himself and looked at the young man. He gave a slight grin. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to vent.”
The young officer smiled back at him. “It’s all right, Admiral. I don’t mind and that’s something a guy has to do sometimes,” he said.
Hammond placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, I keep hoping and praying that in the future people will be too afraid to start something like this to ever do it again. If we have the patience, this war will be over soon. Then we’ll see if humanity is smart enough to let that happen.” Hammond turned back to the board. Now targets were being hit along the corridors they had specified. He turned to the air watch officer. “Are the runs set for tomorrow?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Good. We won’t need to hit these again. Go for the secondary targets and send out the orders,” Hammond said. He watched a little while longer before he gave the young man a wink and turned and left the room.
Anton Bugayev was in a bind. The Russian forces had been driven out of Krakow and surrendered. In the north, the Russian army was being forced back to the border with Ukraine and Belarus. He was receiving no orders and the Polish State Police had his photograph and were looking for him. Transportation was still nonexistent. On his last meeting with the Russian army officials, Bugayev sensed the fear and panic going through the units. There was nothing more he could do in Poland. He had planned on joining in on the crowds of people exiting the cities for the countryside, but since the Russians had capitulated in the area, those people were on the way back to the cities. He would stand out going the opposite direction. His only hope was to travel the roads at night.
Two days out he found a deserted farmhouse. In the barn were the remains of a long departed Russian Army unit. They had obviously used the place for an encampment, and had been removed forcefully. Bullet holes riddled the house and bard, but in the barn he found rations and even a sleeping bag and backpack. That day had been the first in a week that he had slept warmly. Before he left, he found a pistol and some ammunition along with a good pair of gloves and a clean scarf. Despite the extra clothing, that night’s hike had been miserable. The bitter wind had cut almost through every layer and even his joints felt as if they might seize up.
The next day he slept in an old shed beside a field. There was no fire, but the combination of the sleeping bag and an old horse blanket he found allowed him to thaw out and sleep. Each day he became angrier at his situation. When he had asked to be sent home by the army, they had said he didn’t have a priority, especially since they were too busy trying to get themselves out. Bugayev felt isolated and betrayed. Yet, there was one thing still burning inside him. Over the past months he had been able to find nearly all of the men who had been with him that night the police had arrived. Those still working for the Russian cause were allowed to live. But seven of the men he had taken the satisfaction of murdering. Only two of the men he had not been able to find. Bugayev had determined he would finish that job at some time. It may take a few years, but he would get back and finish his mission. That hatred drove him onward.
Just before dawn on the fourth day, Bugayev came upon what once was a small store. The building had been hit by some sort of artillery and one side had collapsed inward. The roof was at an angle and no windows were intact. Finding an entrance, he made his way past a few remaining shelves until he saw the door to a room in the back. It was a small space with no windows, but on one side was a metal bed with a dirty mattress. Making sure the door was secured, he spread out his sleeping bag and crawled inside it. Although some light seeped in through some cracks in the wall, the room remained relatively dark and within a few minutes he was sound asleep.