Rust in the Sand

By Roberta Lynn Rose

Although known for her ability to find the Hottest Trouble Spots to practice her unorthodox training, Army Specialist Kathryn "Rust" Eindle fully expected to be just a simple Truck Driver when arriving in Afghanistan. But Fate and Circumstances shoves Rust into a high stakes game of vicious firefights, capturing an International Arms Dealer, Betrayal, and lost nuclear weapons. Never has Rust been so happy to be in the Wrong Place at the Right Time!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roberta Lynn Arts
• Release date: Jul 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370609161

Roberta Lynn Rose

A quiet woman who enjoys creating Art in different medias. Writing is a new passion which I've found to be quite fun to do as I live vicariously through my characters.

Book preview

Rust in the Sand

Copyright © 2016 Roberta Lynn Rose

Published by Roberta Lynn Arts at Smashwords

Cover Design by Roberta Lynn Arts

Editing by MM&I Associates

ISBN: 9781370609161

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table Of Contents

Prologue 1– June 1986 - Dresden, East Germany

Prologue 2– July 1986 - Outside PAF Base Kalabagh

Chapter 1 - May 2006 - Afghanistan Arrival

Chapter 2 - Home Sweet Home Away

Chapter 3 - Bullies and Bullets

Chapter 4 - Bump in the Road

Chapter 5 – Encounters with Light and Dark

Chapter 6 - Prepping for a Road Trip

Chapter 7 - A Relaxing Drive into the Country

Chapter 8 - First Contact or how the natives like to greet you

Chapter 9 - Sleep Over & Camp out

Chapter 10 - Sand and Wind Maneuvers

Chapter 11 – Reaching out to Kill

Chapter 12 - Recruited Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 13 – ad libertatem allevet et salvet

Chapter 14 - Plans to be Made

Chapter 15 – New Sheriff in Town

Chapter 16 – Brief Before Action

Chapter 17 – Learning New Tools for Use

Chapter 18 – Our Visit to Abdur's Compound

Chapter 19 – Tactical Retreat up the Mountain

Chapter 20 – Sea Rest and Relaxation

Chapter 21 – Jumping into the Fire & Pan At Once

Chapter 22 – Discovery and Loss

Chapter 23 – General Disappointment & Sorrow

Chapter 24 – Holding On & Moving Forward

Chapter 25 – Back into the Valley of Death

Chapter 26 – Rocks and Roll Time

Chapter 27 – Out with the Old & In with the New

Chapter 28 –Afghanistan Departure

Epilogue 1 – Kremlin Senate Building, Moscow

Epilogue 2 – Sachsische Schweiz, Germany

Prologue 1– June 1986

Dresden, East Germany

A non-descript man stepped off the bus at the Bautzner Bus Stop. Turning up the collar of his dark wool trench coat for protection against the cold rain of spring showers in the early morning, he started with a moderate pace down the street. This was his route every day since he was assigned to the Directorate L. When he was even with the black door of a private residence, it opened with a creaking noise. Without breaking stride, he turned quickly and entered the building. A tall man with a military bearing was waiting in the hallway. He held out his hand in which the non-descript man placed a card. Only then did he close the door.

He spoke after reading the card. Good Morning Podpolkovnik Ivanovna. The tall man then escorted Lt. Colonel Ivanovna to an elevator at the end of the corridor. He inserted a key which activated the elevator door to open. He stepped aside for the Colonel to enter and handed off the key. He then turned and walked back to the front door. The Colonel inserted the key in the elevator’s control panel and turned it. Two buttons lit up, of which, he pressed the bottom one. The elevator began its descent.

When it stopped again, the elevator door opened onto a reception area. There was a secretary sitting at the desk, facing the elevator. The Colonel stepped off the elevator and approached the desk.

Comrade, please show me your identification. She asked with her hand held out.

Major Lila, you have been asking for my identification every day since I first walked into this office a year ago. He said tiredly as he pulled a wallet from his coat, removed the small document and handed it to her.

After she had looked over the document and compared the picture to his face, she replied. Colonel Ivanovna, you would have me shot the first time I didn’t do so. We have rules and procedures for a reason.

He gave her a small smile that did not reach his eyes, Correct response Major.

Sir, everyone is in the conference room waiting for you. She said with the same type smile returned.

Thank you Major He turned and walked over to a set of doors. When his hand touched the knob, the Major pressed a button under her desk which was next to a cocked Makarov PMM situated in a quick draw holster. The door buzzed as the electric actuators released the locks and the Colonel could open the door. He stepped through releasing the knob and pneumatic springs caused the door to shut quickly.

He went down a hallway and entered an open office where there were several desks set up for use. He walked past them to another door that opened to reveal a large room with a conference table. The seven inhabitants he found there had quit talking when the Colonel entered. One of the men stood up and helped the Colonel take off his trench coat. The Colonel proceeded to the head of the large table in the center of the room and took his seat.

Let’s begin Comrades. Our agenda is quite full today. He said as he pulled the coffee carafe over and poured himself a cup.

Sir! I have an update on Project Сказка. said Tomas, sector chief for European actions. Chernobyl incident in April has provided the needed catalyst to move forward with the organizing of anti-nuclear protests. Our funding and embedded agents have paid off. The clashes between the West German police and anti-nuclear protesters have escalated to vicious encounters. It is playing quite well with the press.

Any follow-ups planned? asked Ivanovna as he lit a cigarette.

Yes sir. We have a major anti-nuclear march being planned for Rome in May. That is in the final phases and we have a firm estimation of a minimal 150,000 people will protest the Italian nuclear program.

And elsewhere? Ivanovna prompted, blowing smoke down the table.

Sir, we are in a critical phase with an ongoing event in America. spoke up Leonada, sector chief for North America. A good traction of agents into the Great Peace March for Global Nuclear Disarmament movement has begun as well. The group started their peace march out from Washington DC on March 1st. However, support along the route has been soft. Unfortunately, our agents had to cut out when an FBI undercover agent was discovered. We need to relight their flame with a special action if possible.

Directorate L plans for America must be moved forward at all cost. Ivanovna gravely said as he looked down at his notes. "Which I think that we can accomplish, if you have a good report for us, Dimitri.

The man who had taken the Colonel’s coat looked up from a folder he had in front of him and replied. According to latest intelligence gathered by our agents in Pakistan, we are a go for Operation Morozko. All we need now is for Moscow to give us the green light. Dimitri Crylov, Directorate L’s field actions controller did not show outward what was racing through his mind. He wasn’t sure if Operation Morozko should go forward. There were too many risks of exposing their true mission. He thought by bringing Moscow leadership into the loop would force them to reconsider the Operation.

The Kremlin had pushed forward with Operation Kolobok, but had been repelled by the outcome of the sabotage of the reactor systems at Chernobyl. Dimitri knew that they would be very hesitant to continue such operations, especially if it came back on them. His hope for intervention by Moscow was dashed when Ivanovna spoke next.

Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of Moscow. Send the code. I want it to happen within the next thirty days so we can keep the momentum going. We need the anti-nuclear power movement in America to become as outspoken as the German mobs.

Yes sir, we have a Spetsnaz team with pilot in place just over the border in Afghanistan. Our lead agent can read in the team and provide the Intel we have collected. Unless there is some insurmountable problem that the Spetsnaz see in execution, we should make the deadline easily. No need trying to drag this out on his own. It would accomplish nothing but his sudden death.

No problems, Dimitri. Just get it done. Ivanovna quietly stated while looking directly at Dimitri who visibly paled under the deadly eyes.

Yes sir. He said in a tight, controlled voice. As Ivanovna continued down the agenda and putting someone else under pressure, Dimitri made notes in the folder and understood that if this wasn’t successful, he would be transferred back home in a body bag. He was thinking seriously that it may be time to plan an alternate ending if the operation fails.

Prologue 2– July 1986

Outside PAF Base Kalabagh

A Pakistani Security Patrol drove past the double fence that surrounded the air base. Even if they had been paying attention to the fence, they would most likely still miss the cut in the wire along one of the posts. Big enough for someone or possibly several persons to sneak onto the air field and disappear in the shadows of the hangers.

Such as Sgt. Akulina leading four Spetsnaz and a nervous Soviet Pilot who were currently hiding behind shipping crates stacked against a deserted hanger. Akulina was worried about their Pilot, Captain Alexei Sokolov. Alexei had been drafted into this mission and given enough technical material to fly the plane they were about to steal.

Alexei knew reading the material wouldn’t turn you into an expert on that make and model of aircraft. His hope was in just getting the plane safely up in the air and back down again at their destination. He had worked hard on the mock up at the safe house. But the part that made him nervous was being dressed as an American Naval Aviator. It just felt wrong. Sgt. Akulina kept hissing at him to keep up and quit tugging on his flight suit.

The rest of the Spetsnaz team was also in foreign uniforms along with weapons that would suggest to passersby that this was an American Naval Security Detachment. One of the men had assembled an explosive device to provide a diversion. Their target was in the hanger across the taxi way. It was easily seen since the hanger doors were open.

Akulina observed four guards and a duty officer inside the hanger. It was just as the Intel had said which surprised him. Normally, information received from Soviet Army Intelligences was not as accurate. He had to improvise before and it always got someone killed on his team. It’s good to have one that works for once.

With the timer set, Akulina led his team through a maze of crates and trucks to work their way over to the target. Finally, the group was stacked up on a side door whose lock was picked by one of the Spetsnaz.

Standby. Akulina whispered, 3,2,1.. A loud explosion occurred across the taxi way and the hanger there became engulfed in flames. Alarms started going off all over the base. Go! The door was flung open and the team quickly entered the target hanger. Each member of the team had a suppressed Colt Woodsman Sport Pistol.

With the subsonic ammunition, they were as noisy as a loud staple gun. They quickly walked up to the guards and duty officer who were staring out the hanger door at the raging fire. Almost simultaneously, the Spetsnaz fired their Colts. Their targets dropped to the ground.

Quick, drag them into the back of the hanger. Akulina urged his men. He turned to Alexei, Get in the plane, we have not time for gawking! Alexei didn’t realize that he was frozen there. The shock of the quick deaths was slow to shake off. Akulina grabbed him and shoved him toward the open door of the P-3 Orion. Alexei stumbled and recovered. He climbed up into the airplane and made his way into the cockpit. Akulina directed his men to connect the portable starter to the plane’s engines.

Alexei had calmed down once he had strapped himself into the pilot’s seat. He pulled out the engine start checklist. One of the Spetsnaz, Esfir entered the cockpit and sat down at the flight engineer’s station. Esfir had trained with him so as to help out in the cockpit. This mission could not support bringing additional qualified flight crew.

Select and start number two, the pilot commanded. Esfir glanced at the air pressure gauge which showed adequate external pressure. He turned the engine start selector switch to number two and pushed the start button. The four-bladed propeller responded immediately. They watched the air pressure drop and glanced at the rpm gauge to verify rotation.

As the propeller speed increased, the high-pitched sound from the spinning turbine turned to a roar. Esfir continued to monitor the gauges as the starter button popped out. The engine stabilized at 98 percent which indicated that it was a good start.

Akulina and the rest of the team had moved the portable starter out of the way and stood by to engage anyone who decided to check out why the P-3 had been started. The scene across the taxi way was very chaotic with fighting the fire that was gutting the hanger. The Firefighters were trying to save the hangers on either side now.

Between Esfir and Alexei, they had managed to get all four engines started. Esfir went to the hatch and motioned to Akulina. The Spetsnaz team quickly piled into the hatch and Esfir secured it before returning to the cockpit. Alexei throttled up and taxied out of the hanger, moving away from the fire scene. The radio burst alive with an excited voice.

Taxiing aircraft! What are you doing?

Alexei put on the pilot’s headset and keyed his mic, We had to move the aircraft because of the fire. Permission to taxi farther out on the runway.

Go ahead. Stop on Runway 30R and await security escort.

Copy. Will stop on Runway 30R and await security escort. Alexei repeated. He turned to Esfir and said. Make sure everyone is strapped in, I’ll take off immediately after turning on the runway. Esfir went to the back and told everyone to put on their seatbelts. He came back and sat in the co-pilot’s seat to help with the takeoff.

The P-3 was taxiing fast and was soon turning onto Runway 30R. Alexei looked at the window and saw that the pulsing blue lights of the security escort was still far enough away to not interfere with his takeoff. Visibility was good and the runway was clear of traffic.

Quick, let’s run through the takeoff checklist. Alexei said. Elevator trim – set.

Check. Esfir replied as he double checked the setting.

Flaps - set.

Check.

Altimeters - set.

Check.

Brakes on

Check.

Let’s get rolling. Alexei said after the final check. He pushes the throttles all the way forward and the engines roar as they spool up to full thrust. He felt the plane struggle to stay still and after a brief pause, he releases the brakes. Everyone is pressed into their seats as the aircraft’s momentum moves them down the runway. Alexei keeps the stick centered as the plane quickly builds up speed down the center of the runway. The radio is blaring again and he quickly shuts it off so as not be distracted.

Watch my airspeed! Alexei snaps at Esfir. The threshold lights at the end of the runway were approaching fast.

Airspeed is 145 and climbing. Esfir said after quickly finding the correct gauge. Now at 165. Alexei pulls back on the yoke and the aircraft jerks as it claws upward into flight. The ascent is very bumpy as the plane immediately turned toward a new heading.

What’s my altitude?

4000 and climbing.

Gear up. Alexei stated as he pulled the lever. Setting auto pilot for evasive course. This was difficult because they did not know quite the characteristics of the P-3. Each aircraft has a personality of its own and has to be learned. The aircraft was steady on a new course. They should pass over the border into Afghanistan in a few moments. Then they would continue to the prepared landing field just south of the Hindukush Range. Alexei felt that the aircraft was behaving and he could leave the cockpit to confirm the next part of the mission. Making sure Esfir knows not to touch anything until he gets back, Alexei left the cockpit.

Akulina met him as he came out and asked. On course?

Yes, we are making our way into Afghanistan. It is time to secure the cargo.

Agreed. Together, they opened the access hatch to the forward bomb bay. Shining a light on the torpedoes stacked on a rack for quick release, the lettering and radiation warning sticker told them that they had just stolen eight Mark 51n’s. The orange nosecone indicated they were tipped with N34 nuclear warheads which have a yield of about 11 kilotons. Alexei felt a cold chill being this close to something that could cause so much destruction. Akulina just felt relief that the warheads were in place. His handler did not like failures. The aircraft shifted and Alexei knew it was time to return to the cockpit.

They resealed the hatch and went their separate ways. Akulina’s job was done for now. He wanted to share the bottle of vodka that one of his men had snuck on mission. Alexei was mentally preparing himself for the next part of the flight. To provide more confusion, Alexei dropped down for nap of the earth flying. A MIG is scheduled to take over their fake flight path to spoof any radar trying to monitor.

Esfir looked very relieved when Alexei returned to the cockpit and strapped himself into the pilot’s seat. A look at his watch reminded him to begin charting their progress. With a notepad, Alexei computed their approximate location by airspeed, heading, and time in flight. They appeared to be on track with time and distance. Looking out the window, Alexei located the MIG that would mimic them as they slipped below radar. He turned off autopilot and pushed the yoke forward to descend. They soon passed the MIG which was climbing.

Here it becomes a tough go. Flying this close to the ground was dangerous. One false turn and the aircraft would slam into a canyon wall or even plow into the ground. There was another danger that had not been factored in. A new weapon had been given to the Mujahedin to fight the Soviets. The United States took steps since the invasion of Afghanistan to ‘punish’ the Soviets for their imperialistic pursuits.

The Carter administration along with other governments took diplomatic steps and sanctions. More covert action was considered in the support of the mujahedin. At the start of 1986, President Reagan approved providing Stingers to the Afghan Freedom Fighters. Several Freedom Fighters were trained by advisors as a test group. They were given Stingers in advance of the main shipments arriving.

Quanba had trained with his advisor and was fully qualified to handle this incredible weapon to use against the Soviet pigs who have invaded. He looked forward to training other fighters in its use. That is why He had two Stingers in his possession right now. But the urge to use one of them to strike back was too much to resist.

Quanba was most anxious to fire one off at the Soviet scum that were flying all over his country like they owned it. His cell had received reports of air activity through the pass just south of the valley. Based on this information, he should have success in finding one of the filths flying close enough to strike with the Stinger. Quanba strapped his Stingers on to a donkey and headed for the pass. It was a long and difficult climb, but he finally made it to the top of the pass. He made camp and sat many days waiting for his chance.

Alexei was tired and feeling the strain of the last hour of flight. He was relieved when he saw the pass ahead. This was the gateway to low plains and valleys where a clandestine airstrip had been setup to receive the P-3 Orion. Soon he will be able drink Vodka and forget about this ordeal. While he enjoyed flying, the dirtier aspects of war did not appeal to him. Better to kill from afar than up close and personal.

Quanba heard the approach of a plane flying low through the mountains. He knew it would pass his position to enter the lowlands. He opened one of the long green cases that had been transported to this spot. From it, he pulled the components. Remembering his training, he inserted the Battery Coolant Unit into the handguard. Then he attached the warhead which is a 3 kg penetrating hit-to-kill warhead type with an impact fuse and a self-destruct timer. Quanba lifted the assembled FIM-92 Stinger and set it on his shoulder. Flipping up the sensor pack activated the tracking software.

Looking through the sights, he saw the approaching four prop airplane. Since it was flying low and relatively slow, Quanba had no trouble tracking it. Once he activated the sensor, it was a matter of waiting for the tones to indicate lock on target. He heard the infrared seeker lock on by the distinctive tones. The launch engine ignites, sending the missile out of the launch tube. It kicked harder than Quanba remembered. When the missile travels approximately 9 meters, the launch motor falls away and pulls a lanyard attached to the flight motor ignition.

A bright stream of fire blinded Quanba as the missile sped toward its target. He lost sight of it for a moment, but soon saw the trail of smoke heading for the left side of the airplane. His heart was beating hard waiting for the expected explosion.

Go back and let Akulina know that we are about 15 minutes out from landing. Alexei told his companion.

Yes sir. Esfir said as he unbuckled and stepped to the rear of the cockpit. Thus he missed the flash from the saddle of the pass ahead. Neither had Alexei who had glanced down at the instruments to determine height.

As Esfir made a few steps toward the rear, there was a loud bang and flash. A chunk of the fuselage blew inward when the Stinger missile hit the Starboard Inner engine and exploded. Esfir was crushed by the debris and fire swept through the cabin. The plane pitches sideways and Alexei struggled with the yoke to keep the P-3 from spinning out of control. The Spetsnaz team didn’t have a chance.

Esfir! Esfir! Get in here now; I need help controlling our descent! Alexei screamed. When he looked back at the cockpit door and saw how buckled it was, he knew that help would not be coming back. He quickly turns around and begins shutting off alarms that had blared when the plane was hit. The P-3 was pitching down violently. Its instrument panels were lit up with warnings. Alexei knew that the aircraft was singing its death throes. A softness in the yoke and rudder controls indicated that the P-3 had lost hydraulics.

Alexei was looking for a place to land now. The sideways descent had pulled away from the pass that led to level ground. All he could see out the window was rocky terrain. The Fire Alarm blared for the other Starboard engine. He pulled the throttles back and dumped the fire retardant system on the engine. The yellow glow seen from the starboard side told him that the fire was out of control. The P-3 suddenly pitches up, begins to roll, and dives again.

He keeps back pressure on the yoke. It's stiff as hell. As he deploys the landing gear and applies the speed brakes, the airframe shakes and violently bucks up. His attitude indicator is spinning down quickly. He had no air left to maneuver in. The P-3 continues to drop in attitude and speed. More alarms begin their shrilling noises.

The landscape fills the windscreen. The noise of metal rendering apart filled the cockpit as the P-3 pancakes on the edge of a hillside. The impact jolts the airframe causing the weakened wing to collapse. The fuselage rolled starboard as it slid over the edge.

Alexei screams as part of the instrument panel crumples across his legs. The scream is cut short when his head is whipped to the left by the torque of the turning fuselage, slamming it into the side window frame. The other wing snapped and exploded as it slammed into the ground. Fire and debris slid down the hill with the inverted fuselage.

As it yawed sideways, the center part struck an outcropping of rock causing the fuselage to crack open, spilling the bodies of the Spetsnaz team. The remains of the P-3 finally came to rest in a ravine at the bottom of the hill. Dislodged rocks and boulders cascaded down the mangled slope to rest on the broken parts of the fuselage.

Alexei was unable to feel his legs and felt the blood pouring from his head wound, obscuring his vision. He sensed the end coming as his world shrinks and finally turns dark.

Chapter 1 – May 2006

Afghanistan Arrival

Wake up Rust, we're landing. a normally soft voice yelled past the earplugs I was wearing. I open my eyes to see the deck of the C130 aircraft canter to a downward angle. I blinked back the weight of sleep trying to pull my eyelids closed.

I looked around the cabin and saw that the other lucky arrivals were getting their shit together for debarking soon.

Come-on Kathyrn Eindle, wake up. Again spoke the feminine buzzsaw to my right.

I'm awake already. I grumbled back. You know I hate my first name. I got my nickname due to the full head of red hair when I was born. Mom said it must have been the Rust in the town’s water that gave me that color of hair because all of her family had black hair and my father’s side was brown. Being called ‘Rust’ for so long, my given name always seemed foreign to me.

Yea, that's why I did it to get your ass in gear. spoke my friend Meghan who I had made friends with during our three day lay over at Ramstein Air Base. Staff Sgt. Meghan Foster is a small blonde with blue eyes and a nice bounce in her breasts. We made friends quite easy since we were the only females in this hodge-podge group of deployed solders.

Well I'm up. Where's the coffee? I joked. No in-flight drinks or food during this leg of the journey to our final destination. There wasn't time for any more conversation as the plane's loadmaster signaled that we were landing. Being in line with the rear landing gear, I felt the sharp jolt when the wheels kissed the payment at Bagram Airfield in Afghanistan.

One of the boots across the way lost hold of his ruck and it tumbled down the walkway. The loadmaster intercepted it with ease and walked back towards the boot who was cowering. He shoved it into his arms and then returned to his station near the ramp. The whole time the deck was bouncing and tilting the loadmaster never lost his balance.

The nose wheel finally contacted the runway with a bang and we felt the pull as the props went into reverse to slow the big plane down before it hit the fence surrounding the base. The pressure increased and suddenly released, whipping us back straight into our seats.

What a ride! Meghan exclaimed. She was an adrenaline junkie which she proved over and over again on our lay over. From driving on the Autobahn at excessive speeds to riding every gut wrenching ride at the amusement park we visited. I was lucky that it didn't bother me, but I also didn't seek out this kind of thrill.

It was during this time together with her that I got a vibe that may prove quite entertaining when we finally have some time alone. It was definitely a 'Friends with Benefits' situation to help ease the loneliness of this dangerous deployment.

Being a tomboy and liking to hunt was not the most feminine manner in which to grow up a young lady. This was just fine for me because I realized during high school that I definitely thought about girls more than guys when my sexual awakening occurred.

The plane slowed and I felt it turn as it taxied back toward a series of hangers that I had noticed through the opposite porthole window when we landed. It slowed sometimes, but jerked back to rolling as it worked its way to a final stop. Finally, the rocking came to a stop and I heard the props wind down. The loadmaster yelled to make ready for disembarking.

I stood up and gathered my ruck, weapon, and deployment bag. Then I helped Meghan to gather her stuff. Being more feminine than me, she carried more crap than I did. The loadmaster activated the ramp at the rear of the C130 plane. As it slowly dropped, my first view of my new home in Afghanistan came into view. It’s a gritty sight as dust devils rolled across the Bagram Airfield.

A Sergeant came into view as the ramp touched down. He started yelling for everyone to unass off the plane. As the first group hit the pavement, the natural desire to rubberneck kicked in. Not much to really look at, but it was a new world to us new arrivals.

The 1st Sgt continued screaming at us gawkers, trying to hustle everyone off the tarmac to the nearby hanger. It was practical to double time it to clear the field. You never knew when the Taliban decided to welcome us to Afghanistan with bullets and RPGs.

Not