John explained, “We get them back by sending a Delta team in to kill everyone there and recover our people. We don’t just leave them to rot or be tortured by the Russians.” There was a hint of sarcasm to his tone; he was surprised that the Ambassador would be so daft as to not know how this was going to turn out.
“You understand that you will be facing actual Russian soldiers. This could spiral things out of control quickly is all I am saying. We need to proceed with caution,” Rice responded, hoping to get these two hot heads to realize how quickly things could become worse.
General Luka saw the Ambassador was not comfortable with this option, and in his head, he suddenly pictured the Ambassador going above their heads and fouling up the entire mission as he tried to “negotiate” for their release. “Ambassador Rice, I know you are nervous about the situation getting carried away, and that is a valid concern. However, we cannot allow two of our men to remain captive. They know too much and are too valuable for us to leave them. It also sets a bad precedent that if we are not willing to come for them, we might not come for others. That is not something we can allow to happen.”
The Ambassador sighed.
Luka continued, “We are coordinating this with SOCEUR and JSOC. We have additional assets being moved into the area as we speak. Everything is already underway. We are bringing you into the loop now, but the decision has already been made by the National Security Advisor, SOCEUR, and JSOC to get our people back. We’ve lost fifteen guys… we are going to show these separatists what happens when they test the might of the American military. I assure you, this will not turn out like past operations with the Ukrainians. This will be an American operation all the way through.”
The Ambassador sat back in his chair feeling defeated and blindsided. The military had been pushing for confrontation from the beginning, but at least they had been keeping him informed of what was going on. Now it seemed like they were maneuvering behind his back. “Don’t they realize these actions are going to have long-term consequences?” he thought.
Rescue Operation
Colonel Vadim Lebed, the Commander of the 45th Guard’s Detached Spetsnaz Brigade, had just arrived at the training camp several hours ago to inspect the prisoners and take charge of them. He had left his base at Kubinka, outside of Moscow, to personally take charge of the American prisoners once it had been discovered that these men were responsible for carrying out the attacks against the various air defense vehicles his Russian military had provided to the separatist militias. Those air defense vehicles had been preventing the Ukrainian army from being able to use their air force or helicopters, and Colonel Lebed harbored some desire for revenge.
As he opened the door to the SUV that would drive him to the camp, he was greeted by Major Anatoly Pankov, the camp commander, who smiled as he extended his hand. “It’s good to see you, Colonel. Do you want to see the prisoners now, or would you like a brief tour of our facility?”
Major Pankov was an outstanding soldier, a real mover and shaker in the Spetsnaz world. If he kept his nose clean, one day he could command the regiment. Colonel Lebed had selected him to run this camp because he knew that no one would be able to turn these separatist militias into a viable fighting force like he could.
“Major Pankov. It is good to see you too, my friend. Congratulations on the capture of these two Americans. I believe I would like to see what you have done here at the camp first, then we can discuss the prisoners… Please lead the way.” He gestured for him to proceed with the tour. His aide shadowed them, giving them space to talk freely but remaining available in case the colonel needed him.
The two men walked towards one of the buildings that was being used for classroom instruction. “We use this building to go over the construction of Improvised Explosive Devices,” Pankov said as they walked into the room. There was a class going on with eight separatists being shown how to attach the control wires to a 152mm artillery projectile. In time, they would learn how to properly use other explosive objects like mortars, 122mm rockets, blocks of Semtex, and C4.
“We run this course weekly, teaching as many people as possible how to construct IEDs. Since the start of the Kiev offensive, the separatists have been using them multiple times a day. In fact, the separatists we’ve been advising and training are placing nearly a dozen IEDs a day.”
Colonel Lebed nodded in approval. The only way to win a war when heavily outgunned and outnumbered was through asymmetric warfare. The enormous use of IEDs since the start of Kiev’s most recent operation was having the desired effect. They had stopped the fascist forces from crushing the separatists and demoralized their army.
The People’s Republic of Donetsk and Luhansk was still in its infancy. Their ability to defend themselves from the fascist government in Kiev largely depended on their militia forces. It was the responsibility of the 45th Guards Spetsnaz Brigade to turn this militia force into a viable standing army and force that could protect the new Republic’s national borders.
The two men left the classroom building and made their way towards the main building in the compound. It was a three-story building, which functioned as their operations center. “We have a number of ranges nearby, where we teach them a myriad of different weapon systems, and how to emplace the IEDs and detonate them. We train a hundred soldiers every two weeks at this camp, and have been doing so for nearly two years. To help build up their officer and sergeant corps, we provide a separate four-week course. We train a total of eight officers and sixteen sergeants per training group,” Major Pankov explained proudly.
“Anatoly, you have done a marvelous job turning these unorganized militias into a real military fighting force,” Lebed commented, impressed with how well his protégé had been doing.
The two of them walked through the rest of the building before ending on the third floor, where the two Americans were being held. The Americans were bound and had a few bruises and cuts that there probably obtained during their capture, but otherwise, they looked to be in good health.
“Do you want to talk with them?” Anatoly asked, wanting to make sure his Commander had the opportunity if he wanted it.
“No,” Lebed replied. “I just wanted to see them. Come, let’s go to your office and talk further. We need to review how we are going to handle the American drones and the NATO base at Pryluky.”
The two men talked for several more hours about the new NATO base and whether they should or shouldn’t attack it. It was bad enough that NATO had accepted Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia as members, now they had positioned a base in Ukraine. They had crossed a red line; something needed to be done.
Twenty-four hours later, Major Brian Runyon stood in the team room at the Pryluky Air Base, loading his last thirty-round magazine of 5.56mm ammunition for his M4. He placed the loaded magazine into one of the front ammunition pouches on his tactical vest. The men around him were mostly quiet, carefully doing last minute checks of their equipment, weapons and ammunition. Thirty minutes ago, they had been given the final go-ahead by Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) to proceed with the recovery of the captured CIA members. Once they had run through the mission brief, they would quickly move out to the aircraft that would fly them to the target.
As Brian looked around the room, he could see the intense look on everyone’s faces. These men were killers — professionals, but killers just the same. This mission, unlike many others they had conducted over the last decade, was against an actual army, not Islamic extremists. They would be battling against what would most likely be a Russian Spetsnaz team, one that knew how to handle themselves in a gunfight.