Free The Fall of America: Winter Ops by W.R. Benton

replied, “No, John, I have cancer, and less than a year to live.  I have pain medicines, including morphine, but I've not needed it yet.  Upon my death, or when I am unable to continue my work, I have requested you be promoted to my leadership position.”
    “I'm sorry to hear this, sir.”
    “No more than me, I assure you.  Now, enough talk about me. See to your mission and do it now.”
    I saluted and replied, “Yes, sir.”  I then did an about face and left the building.
    My squad was outside and gathering gear.  Rations were collected to replace those consumed, and ammo and other needs were being seen to, which pleased me. Joyce was cleaning her sniper rifle and Silverwolf was putting an edge on his knife. It was comforting knowing I was leading a professional bunch that took minimum supervision. The men who handled the bikes were still with us, not sure what their orders would be.
    “All of us, including the bikers, are to continue to Pearl and complete our mission. While I know most of you are tired, I suggest we all eat, rest and we'll leave in an hour.”

    Pearl was once a nice small town a few miles east of Jackson and it was quiet compared to the big city, with a much lower crime rate. I'd spent a lot of time visiting my grandparents there and knew the area well.  I'd also dated a few girls from the small town, had enjoyed talking with most of the occupants, and it presented a small town atmosphere. Now, however, it was a ghost town, with most of the people sent to gulags, dead, or in the resistance.  I selected a dense patch of trees and brush by the Pearl River to establish our main camp. Then, taking the men with the bikes, I'd hidden our supplies at night in different locations near the town. Once the gear and supplies were buried, I ordered the men to return to the Colonel.
    Gathering my people in close the first night, I said, “We'll all pull guard, two people at a time, and no fires, unless the weather turns super rough.  We're just a few miles from the Jackson International Airport, so air traffic will be heavy.  If the Russians hit us, follow the Pearl River south and we'll meet at about five miles distance. Corporal Kerr, later tonight you and I will check the area for threats to our security.  Keep in mind to the north of us is highway 80 and to the south is interstate 20, so we've many secondary roads around us. Our best chances, if we have to escape and evade, are the river.  If you want to eat, do it now.”
    “Gag me.” Joyce said with a grin, “Russian rations are bad enough hot, but they're pretty nasty cold.”
    “Well, that's all we have right now, so it's Russian or nothing.”
    The rest of the evening was quiet and Kerr left with me at 2200 hours, moving almost dead east.   Our faces and hands were camouflaged, so if we ran into Russians, we'd never pass for civilians and the Russian weapons in our hands made it clear we were here to fight. There was no traffic at all and in town the only vehicles I saw was an occasional motorcycle. When I neared the old Pearl police station, I noticed many men walking in and out of the building.  There was a tank parked outside in the driveway, and two guards near the entrance.
    We made our way to the elementary school and junior high school, finding both in use as barracks for the Russians. Both facilities were big, but I only counted 4 guards at each. They must have felt secure with a large number of men inside, not realizing sleeping men took some time to wake up and respond. It was obvious to me the Russians had poor security at Pearl, and we'd hit some nice targets over the next few nights.  It took until almost dawn before we located their fuels storage area and it was in an old semipro baseball field.  I saw a lot of flexible rubberized fuel bladders, just right for some well placed explosives. The bladders were huge and the resulting explosion of just one would claim them all.
    It was nearly two hours before sunrise, so we