World War III

“This is a KGB mission, Colonel. You understand that. I am in constant communication with Colonel General Rudenski’s headquarters. If at any moment comrade Rudenski becomes impatient with your actions…” The major shrugged. “You understand, Colonel, that you are only the military field commander. But this mission can be run without your direct control.”

“Whenever you would like to take command, Major, you need only ask,” Vorashin said quietly. “I have better—” The colonel stopped. He’d been scanning the path ahead, mentally searching for anything out of the ordinary. He had stopped so abruptly, near an arctic scrub bush, that Saamaretz hadn’t noticed and had continued on several paces before realizing he was alone.

“Colonel, what—” -

Vorashin ignored the major. He signaled to the platoon commander, who came running.

“Yes, sir?”

“Stop the column. Get Major Devenko up here immediately.”

“At once,” said the platoon commander and he was gone.

“What are you doing now?” Saamaretz asked.

Vorashin glanced toward the hill to his right. “You wanted to know where the Americans were?” He nodded at the hill. “They’re here, Major.”

“Here!” Saamaretz reached for his sidearm.

“Don’t move, Major. If you want to live, don’t move.” Vorashin turned as Devenko approached at a trot.

His forehead was bandaged under the goggles.

“Yes, Colonel?”

“The ambush will be here, Sergei. From the rise to the south.” Vorashin nodded ahead. “Probably another hundred yards. They’re waiting for us to move across those narrows.”

“You saw them?” Saamaretz looked nervously at the hill. “I don’t see anything.” Behind him the tracked vehicles had already stopped.

“Shut up, Major,” Vorashin snapped. To Sergei he said, “Drop the men into a perimeter I formation. I want two RPGs at the point. Have the Grails manned and ready. Instruct the missile team to arm four weapons with short-trajectory HE set for airburst to fire on my command.” He glanced down the sled paths left by the point patrol’s snowmobiles. “They’ve mined the area ahead. Fuel drums buried in the snow. Somewhere snipers are watching us very closely, I think.”

He looked back at Devenko. “Do it quietly, Sergei. I don’t want them to see a lot of running and yelling.

Let them think we are being extra cautious. Yes?”

Devenko nodded. “What will be your signal, Colonel?”

“I will let the American commander commit first,” Vorashin said with a slow smile. His expression changed again. “Target the crest of the hill. When you are ready, send my command vehicle ahead. All others will wait. Do it now, Sergei.”

Without acknowledging, Devenko turned and walked to the command car. He barked at a wounded soldier who’d been riding on the running board to get back to his unit. He patted a platoon commander on the back and spoke to him rapidly, smiling all the while, as if he had a joke to tell. They strolled past the missile earner and Devenko called up pleasantly to the launch commander.

Vorashin shook his head. “You are a wicked scoundrel, Sergei Ivanovich Devenko,” he said to himself.

“Where are the Americans?” Saamaretz demanded urgently in a low voice. “How do you know they are here? I don’t see anything. How can you know? Are you trying to impress me with some maneuver to—”

“I know they are here because they are here, Major.”

Saamaretz looked toward the bumpy moguls ahead. “How do you know they have mined this area?

What do you see?” His voice had that dry resonance of a man terribly frightened who was trying to suppress it. “How do you know they have buried fuel drums in the snow, Colonel? How could you possibly know that?”

“Shallowly buried,” Vorashin said. “The tops are just below the surface.”

“And you have eyes that can see this?”

“No.”

“Then—”

“You would do best to return to the communications vehicle, Major,” Vorashin said. “In a short time there will be much shooting.” He took his field glasses from the case and scanned the frozen river to the north, purposely directing his attention away from the hill.

“I want to know about the mines!” Saamaretz insisted. “I demand to be told! Where are they? How do you know there are mines? Tell me!”

Vorashin continued to pan across the northern horizon. Behind him he heard the command vehicle shift into a forward gear. A squad of soldiers moved past him carrying a heavy machine gun. He lowered the field glasses and squinted at the swirling snow above. “I know, comrade Major,” he said slowly, “because I am standing on one.” He glanced at the KGB man and offered a grim smile. “Now will you move?”

Caffey was sweating inside his insulated parka. The column had stopped dead at the edge of the choke point. For two minutes it hadn’t budged. There was some activity but nothing to indicate that anyone was overly suspicious. They were just taking special precautions, he told himself. It was logical, he told himself. It was the smart thing to do. But something in the pit of his stomach didn’t agree. They were almost too careful.