Slade - Crusade!

CRUSADE

Copyright 2008 Stuart Slade

Books In This Series

The Big One (1947)

Anvil of Necessity (1948)

The Great Game (1959)

Crusade(1965)

Coming Soon: Ride of the Valkyries (1972)

Dedication

This book is respectfully dedicated to the memory of Brigadier General Paul Warfield Tibbets

Acknowledgements

Crusade could not have been written without the very generous help of a large number of people who contributed their time, input and efforts into confirming the technical details of the story. Some of these generous souls I know personally and we discussed the conduct and probable results of the actions described in this novel in depth. Others I know only via the internet as the collective membership of The History, Politics and Current Affairs Board yet their communal wisdom and vast store of knowledge, freely contributed, has been truly-irreplaceable.

In particular, I would like to acknowledge the assistance of who provided irreplaceable insight into the engineering problems that result from the destruction of Germany. In addition, provided analyses of South East Asian and Australian politics and history that were of extreme value. A note of (hanks is also due to who willingly donated his time and great expertise in producing the artwork used for the cover of this book.

I must also express a particular debt of gratitude to my wife Josefa for without her kind forbearance, patient support and unstintingly generous assistance, this novel would have remained nothing more than a vague idea floating in the back of my mind.

Caveat

Crusade is a work of fiction, set in an alternate universe. All the characters appearing in this book are fictional and any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental. Although some names of historical characters appear, they do not necessarily represent the same people we know in our reality.

CHAPTER ONE: OPERATIONAL REQUIREMENTS

Stonewall Jackson Elementary School, Hanleytown, South Carolina

The man was giggling as he held the schoolgirl up as a shield. Behind him, the rest of the children were sitting on the floor whimpering gently with fear. Not far away from them, , the schoolteacher, was lying in a corner. She was dying and she knew it, bleeding out from the deep knife cuts in her arms and legs. She'd accepted her own death but she was mortally afraid for the children that had been in her care.

Ever since the man had burst into the schoolroom, shouting incoherently about the sin of teaching boys and girls in the same class, she'd known that there was little hope for any of them. When the little girl had started crying loudly, the man had grabbed her and was now using her as a shield while he shouted abuse and what appeared to be demands out of the window. He had been getting more excited every moment and now he was making wild gestures, waving the knife in his free hand over her head. That's when it happened.

For a moment, didn't know whether she was really seeing it or whether loss of blood was causing her to hallucinate. The glass in front of the man's head shattered inwards and she saw, or thought she saw, his forehead flatten slightly as the bullet struck it. Then the sides of his head rippled with the Shockwave before his skull exploded in a shower of blood and bone. A few seconds later? Or a few minutes? However long it was, the door burst open and the police emergency response team entered the schoolroom. First in was Hanleytown's only black policewoman, who dropped her shield and made straight for the little girl on the floor. She swept her up in her arms.

It's over honey, it's all over, the bad man won't hurt you any more, the bad man won't hurt anybody again. She looked down at the body with a shattered head lying on the floor. Lord have mercy on us, is that ever the truth.

Meanwhile, the medical team was getting onto a gurney and rigging an emergency blood transfusion. The wounds themselves weren't fatal but she'd lost so much blood her skin had gone gray-white. But, with a medical team, and a good supply of blood, well, it looked bad but with luck, she'd make it.

Outside, the Hanieytown Chief of Police was waiting. He'd been rehearsing what to say ever since the sound of the shot, this was something he wanted to get right. The maniac in the schoolroom had picked his target well. The school had been in the middle of open ground with more than two hundred yards to any cover. He had made it clear if he saw any police approaching the building, he would kill all the children, but he'd miscalculated very badly. There was good cover for a sniper, six hundred yards or more away and visiting Hanieytown was a sniper who could make the shot.

A couple was approaching him, a middle-aged American man with the bearing a Marine never quite lost no matter how long he'd been retired and a younger Russian woman with the imperturbable solidity that Russian women seemed to acquire almost at birth. She was carrying a Moisin-Nagant rifle with a powerful PMU telescopic sight. Captain came sharply to attention and threw the best salute he could manage. Gospodin , the community of Hanieytown is deeply in your debt. On behalf of all our citizens, I wish to express our heartfelt gratitude for how you have saved our children with your skill.

Thank you Chief, but your thanks are not necessary. Any man who would threaten children in such a way is evil and it is the duty of us all to confront evil at every opportunity. Her voice was completely flat, without any intonation. glanced at his wife; her gray eyes still had the cold lifelessness that marked her as being in a place it was better not to ask about. Then, even as he watched, the animation flicked back in and her eyes once more had the dancing humor that made them so beautiful. Anyway, it was not such a hard shot.

Gospodin Klavdia, Novak was careful to use the very respectful 'Gospodin' rather than the more casual 'Grazhdanin, it was a better shot than any of my men could have made, and some of them have been hunting deer since before they could walk. If you have the time, could I further impose on you to give a couple of my best shots some help in improving their skills?

Of course Chief . What rifle do your men use? M1 Garands, Gospodin Klavdia.

Then I suggest you start by getting rid of them. It is impossible to make good shots with semi-automatic rifles. The movement of the action throws off the aim. I recommend you replace them with '03 Springfield rifles and the best telescopic sights you can find. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to secure my rifle and wash.

The two men watched her head for their car, one of the new Mustang convertibles. Tony, I'm sorry if this mess has ruined your evening but Klavdia's presence was an advantage we couldn't neglect. She's probably saved a lot of lives tonight. I'd offer her a reward or something, but it might offend her. Any suggestions?

Don't worry about the evening, we were going to see and in but tomorrow will do. If you want to make Klavdia really happy, see if you can find her an Ikon, a real one. They're rare in Russia, the communists burned most of them and the Germans destroyed most of those left. The Russians take their religion really seriously now.

But, Captain, what the hell happened here? I grew up here and I don't remember anything like this ever happening before.

Nor me , and I've been living here a lot longer than you. On the surface, well, my head is telling me its just some nutcase out to make a statement, but my gut disagrees and says it's a lot worse than that. I got a feel there is something here we don't understand yet, can't tell you how I know that, but I do.

Captain lay broke off for a minute and took a message from a state trooper. You know The Manor? nodded; it was reputed to be the best restaurant in South Carolina, The owner has asked you and Klavdia to be his guests there for dinner. Any time you like and as often as you like. His kid was in that room.