The Veteran

Chapter Six

Viktor Kreschenko was a big man. Standing at 6'5" on any given day, and weighing in at over 300 pounds, he packed muscle in all the right places. He was one of the biggest operators I had ever worked with, our heavy gunner, able to carry an M60 with ease.

He was an asshole, but also my friend. Birds of a feather, they say.

I pulled up to the rendezvous point, which was about 30 miles down a bunch of old country roads. He had sent me the coordinates not long after the call with Mary and Diego and was leaning against the front of a minivan when I pulled up.

A minivan, Viktor?

I got out of the SUV and approached. He hadn't changed much in the past ten years. Asshole didn't even have a potbelly, considering all the beer and vodka he drank. The last time we hung out, he could put away two cases without any effect.

"John, it has been what? Ten Years?"

Even after twenty plus years in the U.S., he still carried a thick Russian accent with his English.

"About that, Viktor. Thanks for doing this."

He punched me in the jaw and almost knocked me out, and I went down to one knee. As I came to my senses and stood back up, I looked at him and yelled, "What the fuck was that for, asshole?"

"For not calling me or keeping in contact with me, my friend," he admonished, the sarcasm seeping through in this tone.

"Ok, I deserved that. You're right. I've been a shitty friend, but you could've said something instead of damn near breaking my jaw."

"Talk does not work for me, John," and he smiled.

He lifted me off the ground in a big bear hug, taking my breath away as the air left my lungs, "I missed you, my old friend," and put me down on the ground. Between the punch to the face and his hug, I was a little dizzy.

"We must go now. Twenty miles to go, and these roads are horrible. Follow me," and he got back in his minivan.

He was right about one thing. The roads were horrible. For the next twenty miles, it was pothole after pothole, which made me glad I was in an SUV. Why he was driving a minivan, I couldn't figure. Almost an hour later, we pulled up to a dirt path, which appeared to lead up a hill into the woods. He got out of the minivan and approached the SUV. I exited and met him in front, the lights casting our shadows in the pitch-blackness.

"My cabin is about 200 meters uphill. I cannot take minivan. Too rough. Your SUV will be fine, but you must move log from path about 50 meters in. I use it to keep kids off property.

"I can't thank you enough for doing this. Can I give you anything?"

"No. Stay alive is what you can give me. I'm asking around about mafia and BelyyaPrava. They are bad people, John, and will kill you if they can. You stay here until I come for you. Understand."

"No problem. I don't have anywhere else to go. Diego and the guys are getting my family to safety, so I'm not as worried as I was."

"Good. Diego is good people and good friend," accentuating good as he elbowed me in the side, "A generator is behind cabin, extra propane in shed and enough food and water for two weeks. The cell phone will work, but you must climb hill behind cabin. Shitty reception, but it works. You have weapons?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty well armed."

"At least you haven't forgotten how to shoot," and he smirked. "I put some special things in box under the bed. Take what you need. I will go now."

"Hey, Viktor. What's the deal with the minivan?" as he was leaving.

"Wife's minivan. Truck in shop. Good mileage, shitty suspension," and smiled. He pointed at the cabin, "You will find the key in fake rock by door. Give it back to me when you are done."

Viktor had gotten married! She must be one hell of a woman to put up with him. If I had stayed in touch, I would've known. The guilt of not doing so now present in my mind. He was putting his neck on the line for someone who had walked away from it all and hadn't spoken to him in over ten years. He was the friend I should've been. After this all blew over, that would change. I would make sure of it.

Viktor was right about the path. It was rough. I crept up the hill and was met by the log in the way. I couldn't drive over the log nor around it, so I had to move it. It was two feet in diameter and covered the width of the trail plus some. I think Viktor sometimes forgot how strong he was; I had to tie a rope to the log and move it with the SUV. After I cleared the path, I continued until I came to a small clearing with a cabin on the far side. It was getting dark, and the SUV was my sole source of light. I got out, and Jake followed, smelling the ground in all directions. As I walked toward the cabin, I was greeted by a high-intensity flood light, which I assumed was set off by a motion sensor.

Damn, Viktor. Bright much?

After my eyes adjusted, I went to open the door. It was locked.

I searched around by the door and found the rock he mentioned, much lighter than it should be, and found a little compartment that held a key. I opened the cabin, and the musty odor hit me. Dust had settled on everything, and I could tell it had been a while since anyone had stayed here. I looked around and found a flashlight sitting on the table next to the door. I picked it up and flicked the switch. It was one of those 10-zillion-watt LED flashlights, and the entire room lit up. I walked around the back, noticing the stack of cut wood on the side of the house, and shined the light into the darkness. Ten meters away stood the shed.

Jake was hot on my heels as I walked the ten meters to the shed and found it locked. I tried the key and found an assortment of tools, propane tanks, sealed five-gallon water bottles, and a variety of supplies inside. Someone could live up here indefinitely if needed. I pulled one of the propane tanks from the shed and dragged it back to the cabin and connected it to the propane generator where Viktor indicated it would be and fired it up. The generator looked brand new and was wired into the cabin through a breaker panel. Propane generators, although expensive, emitted little noise. The hum was quiet, almost undetectable, even in the quiet woods. Viktor had spared no expense on this setup, and I owed him big time. The lights in the cabin flared to life, but with shutters on most of the windows, only a small amount of light leaked out into the night.

As I made my way back to the front, Jake came bounding out of the darkness with something in his mouth. It was a dead rat. He dropped it at my feet, and I patted his head, picked up the dead rat and flung it out into the darkness. The last thing I needed was for him to be sick.

I walked to the SUV, killed the engine, and snagged my bag, his food, and as many weapons I could carry. Two trips later I had all the stuff in the cabin. I left one of my Sig pistols in the center console with a couple of magazines, for good measure. The inside of the cabin was comfortable but smelled like an old grandma's closet. I pulled back the steel-reinforced shutters and opened a couple of windows for some fresh air in the place. Light from the interior now filled the area around the cabin, and the screens kept the bugs out, allowing for a cross breeze, which whistled through the trees. I wouldn't leave the shutters open for too long. Light attracts things, and I didn't need the attention.

The place was well furnished with plenty of stocked food and supplies. Viktor had been busy. The interior was comfortable and had a small A/C unit built into the wall for warmer days, and a little sink with a drain to the outside was mounted next to a counter with a small propane oven and stove. Carrying the water inside was a minor inconvenience, but a necessary one. The fireplace had wood in it, and with plenty of wood already, I didn't have to worry about chopping. A small laptop sat on the desk in the corner with a note on it. It read, "Security system. Open and turn on." I dusted off the laptop and table, lifted the screen and pushed the power button. As the system booted up, I looked under the bed for the box. The box was almost as long as the bed and held a myriad of weapons, old uniforms in my size, boots, a ghillie suit, and a few thousand rounds of ammo. At the foot of the box, sat half a dozen fragmentation grenades and half a dozen flashbangs.

He wasn't joking. This was a surprise. This was military grade hardware, and it wasn't my place to ask where he got it. I was relieved. The laptop beeped, and eight small screens appeared. The cameras had night vision and were set up to provide me with a 360-degree view of the entire perimeter. In the other corner, a TV and DVD player sat, along with a small propane fridge next to it.

There wasn't an outhouse or a bathroom inside, so I stepped outside. I walked around the cabin and found a chemical toilet with a note attached. "Take inside and shit there. Too many bears." Viktor had thought of everything.

He was always the funny guy.

I carried the toilet into the cabin. Jake was hungry, and I poured him some food into his bowl. Viktor had made sure I had plenty of food, most of it canned or dry, and some MRE's, which are not bad when you're hungry, and I was starving. Before I could do anything, I had to dust everything off and sweep the place clean. Forty-five minutes later and the cabin was habitable, without all the dirt and dust hanging around.

I closed the windows and shutters, except the ones facing the road. I needed a clear view of the path leading to the cabin, in case someone decided to pay me a visit unannounced. I turned on the A/C, and the temperature started to drop. Having worked up an appetite, I fixed myself some canned beans, an MRE, and a few slices of bread. In the fridge, I found plenty to drink; water, beer, and as it was Viktor's place, a bottle of vodka. No good Russian is ever without vodka.

After the meal, I cleaned up, pulled back the covers to the bed, and placed my Sig on the nightstand, and readied my FN-SCAR, in the event someone came through the door. My arm was bothering me, so I removed the bandage to check the wound. It was healing well, but the muscle still throbbed from the fibers being torn. I was fortunate it was a full metal jacket round. A hollow point round would've destroyed my bicep and required surgery. I cleaned it, wrapped it with some new bandages, and took a few more antibiotics to combat any remaining infection. It had been a long day, and I needed sleep. I put the laptop screen saver to dark and killed the interior lights. If anyone approached, I would see them coming.

***

Morning came without event and Jake was up a few minutes after sunrise, scratching at the door. The last time he did, we almost met our end. I checked the laptop and saw no movement outside. It was safe. I opened the door, and he flew out, found the nearest tree, and did his business. My bladder protested, and I stepped outside with him, not seeing any need to use the chemical toilet. It was a beautiful morning, which I would've enjoyed any other time, but Mary and the kids were on my mind. I needed to check on them to make sure they were safe. I stepped back inside, got dressed, picked up my FN-SCAR and couple of magazines, and slid my SIG into my drop leg holster. I stuffed my smokes and my phone into my pocket and walked to the rear of the cabin toward the hill. From the back of the property, the hill rose at a sharp angle. Steps had been cut into the dirt, making it easy to traverse and I climbed them to the top, 100 feet up from the forest floor, I was rewarded with a fantastic view of the surrounding countryside. In better times, I knew I would bring Mary and the boys here for some outdoor adventures. I turned on the phone and had one bar, but that was enough. I dialed Mary, and she answered right away.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine and safe. Are you and the boys safe?"

"Yes, we left last night, not long after we talked to you, and we're on our way to a safe place. Diego told me not to tell you, in case someone was listening, but we're ok. My parents are here too, although they aren't super happy about this. I told them to suck it up."

"I'm glad. Listen. I can't stay on the phone long for risk of being traced. I'm going to lay low for a few days and try to figure out who is tracking me. There doesn't appear to be much I can do about it. Diego is checking into it from his end as well. He'll keep you informed. I will check the phone once a day, but the reception is horrible here. Tell the boys I love them and miss them.".

"Ok, please be safe, but we need to talk."

"I know, but now is not the time," I sighed.

"No, it isn't. We have more important things to worry about. I'll talk to you soon.

I waited until she hung up. It bothered her when I hung up before her. I wanted something that reminded me of how our lives used to be.

I made my way back down the hill with Jake in tow, watching him attempt to chase squirrels that scurried about the forest floor. He lost his footing and tumbled some twenty feet down the hill. Stunned and covered in dirt and leaves, he glanced in my direction, as if wondering if I had seen his faux pas.

"You ok, buddy?"

He shook his body, sending the dirt and leaves flying, and ran the rest of the way down the hill. When I neared the bottom of the steps, his barking echoed from the front of the cabin. Jake didn't bark unless there was a problem.

I unslung the SCAR and racked the charging handle, putting a round in the chamber. I snuck up to the back of the cabin, scanning the clearing and didn't see anything. As I made my way around to the front, pressed up against the side of the cabin, Jake was growled and barking. This was not his normal behavior. Viktor had been right. There were too many bears in this area and one of them, a big black was ten feet away from Jake.

I had hunted deer when I was younger, but never black bear, but I remembered enough about that being out at night was not their normal behavior. They were daytime animals. A 7.62 caliber round can do damage to pretty much anything, except an elephant or rhino. I took aim and fired a couple of shots at the bear's feet, hoping to scare it away, but it didn't move. It should have run away. It was not happy and charged at Jake. I hated killing animals, but I was left with no choice.

Not wanting to risk the bear attacking Jake, I fired a few rounds, and the bear dropped at Jake's feet but was still alive. Jake went for the bear, but I called him back, and none too soon. The bear got to its feet and lunged, coming within a hair's breadth of Jake with its front paws. Something was wrong with this bear. Black bears are not aggressive. I fired a few more rounds, striking the bear in the head and upper torso. It swayed and dropped. Jake was still crouched, growling but the bear was no longer moving. Daniel Boone, I was not, so I put a couple more rounds in the bear's head, for good measure. I moved its head with my boot to make sure it was dead. There was an excessive amount of saliva around its snout and mouth. This bear was rabid. I sat down on the ground to catch my breath. Jake and I had been lucky.

I wasn't sure what to do with a dead bear and didn't want to attract any other scavengers close to the cabin. After ten minutes of sweating and labored breathing, the strain causing my arm to pulsate from the pain, I was able to drag the carcass out of the clearing into the thicker underbrush and covered it with leaves, dirt, and branches as best I could. Jake was curious about the bear, but I kept him away. I couldn't risk him getting sick from anything at this point.

I grabbed a bottle of water and sat down to catch my breath. I realized I felt worse about killing the bear than I did about killing those two assholes at the hotel. Unlike them, the bear didn't deserve it, but I wanted to believe I had put it out of its misery to keep it from suffering a horrible death from rabies and prevent other animals or people from being bitten. I couldn't escape the killing. It followed me wherever I went.

The rest of the day was uneventful. I wrote down everything about what had happened, trying to solve a puzzle for which I was missing many pieces. I didn't have shit for information, besides what Diego and Viktor had told me and I wasn't sure of next move. I couldn't stay in hiding forever, and I couldn't ask the guys to put their lives on hold for us. I needed to resolve this situation if I could find a way. These people were hunting us, and we had no easy way out. Nothing was ever easy.

Jake and I ate late that night. A few more nocturnal animals made their presence known, but we were safe in the confines of the cabin. I watched them through the cameras while cleaning all the weapons and straightening the place, making sure they left the area before crashing for the night. I felt like I could relax a little more and fell into a deep sleep in the bed which didn't last long.

I was thrust from my slumber by a horrible nightmare. Shaking and sweating, I didn't even realize I was crouched on the floor with my pistol in my hand, until Jake, now awake, nudged up against me. For a split second, I was disoriented, but his presence calmed me. Instinctually, he knew what to do, and I was thankful. It was starting again, even though many years had passed. One of the recurring nightmares I thought long since gone was now back with a vengeance, reminding me yet again of what I was. I tried to go back to sleep, but the visions and drudged up memories of the carnage I had caused remained. They were all too real.