Like in Poland, it was a slaughter. The Russians had dug foxholes every twenty yards with two men in each. The drone pilots could see which was on guard and which was trying to sleep in the bitter cold. One by one, the drones lowered toward their prey and the shots rang out. At one point, a group was huddled under a tarp. Corporal Petyr Krusov saw the group. Tonight he had a drone with a grenade. He flew the drone under the tarp and dropped it, then flew out the other side. Once clear of the woods, he pressed the “return” key and sat back to watch his drone automatically fly home. He raised his hand to indicate he needed another drone.
Ricks walked up behind Kursov. “You don’t mess around, do you? Enter in 5014 and let’s see how many more you can get tonight,” he said as he patted his hand on Petyr’s shoulders.
Kursov grinned and entered the code. His image changed to another drone and he took off again. This was another grenade drone. After ten minutes moving into a new area he saw his target. A squad of tanks sat together near a tent. Petyr could tell the tanks were running by the heat bloom at the rear. He saw the tank commander with his head looking out the hatch. Petyr watched as he ducked his head back into the tank. The hatch was left open. Moving the camera controller downward, he stopped only when the camera was pointed straight down. He lined up the center of the hatch in his viewer and dropped the grenade. It fell neatly into the tank. Petyr pulled back on the stick to veer away when he caught the puff of the explosion. Stopping for a moment, he moved the camera back to the tank. Smoke was coming out of the hatch.
“You are evil with that thing,” Ricks said standing behind him.
Giving the command to return, Petyr turned to see the smile on Ricks’ face. “I try not to think about it,” he said returning the smile. “You have another?”
“6856. But after that you’ll have to wait for the first one to get back. This one is a pistol. Let’s see if you can shoot as good as you drop.”
Once again, Kursov changed drones and took off. By now the Russians were running all over trying to escape the swarm of “bees” that was after them. Petyr could see the blips on his screen moving rapidly. His sector was almost void of people until he saw someone duck under something. The infra-red camera could be fooled if someone could get behind another object that was as cold as the outdoor area. He eased his drone over to the area where he saw the figure disappear. Moving around to come in from a different direction, he noticed that from the other side he could see some warmth. He fired a round into the warmth.
Suddenly the covering over the trench flew upward and several men desperately tried to get out from under the branches and blankets they had set up to form a makeshift shelter. As they struggled to get clear, Petyr shot each one, emptying the clip from the pistol on the drone. Once again he pressed the return button and watched the drone move up and away from the carnage he had created.
“Damn!” said Sergeant Nizewski, Ricks’ counterpart on the mission. “The man has almost a sixth sense.” He turned to Ricks who had joined him at the rear of the room. “You know, Kursov is a little different from the others. I noticed that most have that boyish enthusiasm at first. They look for that excitement not only from doing something grand and heroic, but just being out from their parents’ coat tails. But Kursov doesn’t have that. He thinks before he does things, not like these other guys,” he said tapping his temple with his index finger.
Ricks nodded. “I noticed that too. I also noticed that the others follow his example a lot of the time. He’s what we call a natural born leader. They don’t come around very often.” He saw Petyr turn and look back toward them. Ricks motioned for him to come to them.
Petyr got out of his seat, stretched, then made his way to the back of the room. Sergeant Nizewski motioned toward the canteen. “Take a break. It will take time to reload the drones and get them charged up. You’re getting pretty good at this. Just don’t get to liking what you’re doing too much,” he said.
Petyr shrugged. “They invaded my country and hurt my family. Until this is over, I will do what I have to do,” he said. “Tell me. Am I making a difference?”
Ricks looked at the young man with pride. He was on mission and resolved to get the job done at any cost. He remembered when even he needed to learn what that meant. He placed his hand on Petyr’s shoulder. “Corporal, you are more than making a difference. Some of these guys think this is just a game. I can tell you don’t think that way. What you are doing is opening the hole we need to help kick the Russians out of Slovakia. That will mean this little incursion into southern Poland will have to stop. It might even save your family and that young lady you miss from continued harm. Never think what you do is not making a difference to the war or to others. Now get something to eat and drink until I have another drone ready,” he said.
The weary look on Petyr’s face told Ricks and Nizewski the toll that the operations were taking on the 17 year old. He nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said, as he made his way to the small canteen at the back of the room.
“He needs to stay in the army,” said Nizewski. “He would go far.”
Ricks shook his head. “He told me after this is over he was going to the university and get his degree, then marry his girl. I doubt you could change his mind,” he said.
Nizewski gave Ricks a look. “How come he confides in you and not me?” he asked in a grin.
“You are his sergeant. I’m just a curious American sent here to get you guys trained. Besides, I’m the fatherly type,” he said with a sly smile.
Nizewski grunted. He was nearly twice Ricks’ age. “I get all the hard work, is that it?”
Ricks shrugged. “I didn’t write the rules.”
***
Right on schedule, the people and equipment began moving through the holes in the lines made by the drone units. They were completely surprised when there was no opposition. The Czech border had been defended by only light forces since most of the efforts were being made to push through Poland. Once past the first five miles, the Slovaks welcomed the units with open arms.
Bratislava took almost an hour to secure. Light Russian forces used snipers to try and pin down the advance, but for the first time, a drone unit was sent out during the day. These drones were colored a light grey and were difficult to see. They easily found the snipers on rooftops and in windows and the advance continued on. By evening the Spanish and Italian advance began to meet up with Czech and Slovak forces. From there, the Spanish and Italians moved around from the south while the Czecks and Slovaks moved toward the northern part of the country. At this rate, within three days, Slovakia would become a nation again.
It was one a.m. when the G650 landed at the naval air station. Three very exhausted people exited the plane and got into a car to head back to USS America. Despite the sleep they got aboard, the jet lag was a killer. No one spoke except to get their things and start heading toward the ship.
Jeffers sat in the front seat with the driver. As they rounded the turn to drive along the head of the finger piers he was surprised at the number of ships in port. Where before, there had been plenty of space on the piers, now the piers were full. In many cases, the ships were parked two or three deep. Although the lights on the base were off, the full moon clearly illuminated the ships in their berths. The America was almost as big as one of the carriers at the far end of the base, but what caught Jeffers’ eye were several huge ships sitting low in the water opposite her on the next piers. They had huge turrets and tall towers climbing into the night sky. Each was a little different from the others. Directly opposite the America was one of these ships. Despite the fact that America sat higher in the water, this one looked much more like a warship. The outline looked familiar.