Dozer pointed to the photo. "Is that really Yankee Stadium in the background?"
Chapter Thirty-three
The rain had finally stopped. But in the muck of the 9th Circle Regiment's camp, it didn't matter. The ground around the encampment was so soaked, many of the soldiers had abandoned their tents and were trying to sleep in the back of trucks, or on top of the group's few tanks. Any place that was solid and could be made dry. Still, these places were at a minimum, so many of the men simply huddled together in the wet mud, and stayed awake all night, sharing cigarettes and what little whiskey they smuggled in.
To a man, they were cold, tired and mad. Their anger was directed toward the dozen "special" soldiers attached to their regiment. Rumors were rife that the "specials" were really Russians. And while The Circle troops shivered in the damp after-rain, they could also see the lights from the large, well-heated house trailers that served as the special troops' bivouacs nearby. They also knew when chow came, these troops would be the first to eat.
It had been getting worse since they marched out of Football City. Before then, things hadn't been as bad. Most of the men in the Circle 9th were former Mid-Aks soldiers from the West Virginia area. Before Viktor's recruiters appeared, they had supported themselves by raiding small towns and hamlets in the Wheeling area, sometimes bringing their booty — young girls mostly — up to The Pitts for resale. With promises of gold, new weapons and conquest in the west — especially against the same hated democratic forces that had brought down their Mid-Atlantic Empire — the members of the 9th had greedily enlisted.
Most of them had managed to put up with the strange ways of The Circle. The "re-education sessions" during training — where they watched countless videos detailing the outlandish heroics of Viktor — were bearable because the food was plentiful and it was occasionally spiked with some kind of "feel-good" drug.
While the good old mountain boys of the 9th quietly snickered at the suggestion that the "Video" Viktor was "the Cosmos Chosen Leader," they knew many of the other recruits — especially the young ones in their teens — bought the foolishness lock, stock and barrel.
What the Circle recruiters never told them was signing up in the Army of the East meant a long separation from what man needed most — sex. No women were allowed in or anywhere near Circle Army camps. No Circle soldiers were allowed the wanton rape and pillage that had been the trademark of the Mid-Aks. Photos of women and girls were banned.
Whoring was punishable by firing squad — several public executions drove the point home quickly enough. The life of The Circle grunt was one of enforced abstinence.
Except for The Queen…
She was beautiful, even the men of the 9th agreed. And she was the only woman they ever saw — and then only in carefully distributed, carefully staged photographs. They were passed out like medals — rewards for good duty, and then only rarely. Photos of the Queen quickly became status symbols. Soldiers in favor carried them proudly. They became items for trade, like cigarettes in a POW camp. How valuable was determined by The Queen's varying states of undress. The more she showed, the more precious the photo. It was said that some officers possessed photos of the Queen partially nude and given to them by Viktor himself. But these photos were as rare as diamonds and never filtered down to the enlisted men. Not unless it was planned that way. It was all very controlled, just as the portions of "feel-good" slipped into the troops' meal rations. The Circle ruled its soldiers with an iron fist tightly wrapped around their libido. The erotic photos of the unnamed, beautiful Queen were the only release. They became as valuable and as guarded a commodity as The Circle's guns, and rockets and bombs.
But now even that had ended, at least for the 9th. Rumors had been sweeping the troops' encampments for days before they marched out of Football City that Viktor was dead and The Queen was missing. Something big had gone down back in New York City. They were heading for a bloodbath in the Badlands.
And worst of all, the camp food didn't taste as good as it did before…
Now, on this cold, wet night, new rumors were sweeping the 9th's camp. They would start on a new march route the next day because a major bridge they had been slated to cross had been destroyed by an enemy air strike. Wild stories about the West's aircraft bombing targets behind their column were running rampant. Some soldiers who had been up to the front claimed the skies were filled with enemy aircraft. Yet Viktor's officers had told them there would be no enemy air force by the time they reached the front. There were SAMs installed at the front, which made flying anywhere east of the Badlands impossible.
Even worse were the stories about the West's "ghost" jets. Supposedly they could appear or disappear on command. Foolish as the story was, many of The Circle soldiers suspected there was something to it — and they sensed their superiors were taking the claims seriously.
So when the soldiers of the 9th Circle Regiment heard the rumbling of aircraft approaching from the west, they were quick to find shelter. But they found it was no easy task. Their encampment was set up out in the open of the Missouri plain. There was no place to hide. As the sound of the airplanes got louder, there was much confusion as the soldiers ran around in the dark, sloshing in the mud, looking for a hole to jump in or a rock to cower against.
"How did those airplanes get through!?" was the cry through the camp as the PAAC aircraft passed overhead.
"What happened to the SAMs!"
So it was a complete surprise to the men of the 9th Circle Regiment — as well as to thousands of their comrades camped nearby — that the high-flying airplanes didn't drop bombs on them. Instead, thousands of leaflets floated down out of the sky. Leaflets showing the woman known to them only as The Queen, carrying a message that Viktor was dead and that they should give up the fight. Gone were her slinky black pornographic costumes. She looked all-business in the combat-style coveralls.
But many of the soldiers were startled more by the fact that she was holding an American flag. The symbol — and any talk of it — had been banned long ago by the New Order. It was the first time in years that many of them had seen the flag. Something stirred deep inside of a few of them. The picture of the Queen holding the stars and stripes was enough to kick some out of the hazy drug hangover they'd unknowingly been suffering from.
Still others wondered what the strange craft in back of her in the photo represented. Was this one of the "ghost jets" they'd been hearing about?
The leaflet drop added weight to the rumors that had swept the camp. If these airplanes got through the SAM line, what was to prevent others, carrying more deadly payloads from getting through? Maybe Viktor was dead. Maybe enemy aircraft were bombing positions behind them in the rear areas. Maybe there was a bloodbath waiting for them up ahead.
It was enough for many of the veteran soldiers of the 9th. They quickly packed their meager belongings and started marching again — this time toward the east, back to the the West Virginia hills. When their officers appeared and ordered them to stop, they ignored them and kept moving. And when their officers shot a few of them, the members of the 9th, returned the fire, killed the officers then fled.
The scene was repeated all over eastern Kansas and Missouri. Wherever the leaflets fell, the "borderline" Circle troops — veteran Mid-Aks, Family soldiers, mercenaries mostly — began questioning their resolve. Scattered mutinies, uprisings, and random defections started to take place. More than a few Circle commanders resorted to force to keep their soldiers in line. By morning, The Circle High Command estimated that they'd lost anywhere from 10 to 15 percent of their troops. The Russians believed even more had deserted.