World War III

“I think he would not be so foolish, if he is alive,” Vorashin said. He was still staring at the horizon. “A good commander would not throw the lives of his men away in a pointless gesture, and I think he is a good commander. He is beaten. It is understood.”

“I disagree.”

Vorashin let out a disgusted sigh as he heard Major Saamaretz approach.

“We should send a small party on snowmobiles to wipe out the remaining force,” said the KGB man as he stopped beside Devenko. “We must guarantee that no more time is wasted on costly delays, Colonel.”

“I promise you,” Vorashin said impatiently, “the Americans will not return.”

“Are you now a magician, too, Colonel?”

“They have only one helicopter left, Major. They cannot mount an effective assault against us with only one helicopter and the few men it can carry. The Americans are finished. Let’s leave them.”

Saamaretz stepped closer to the colonel. “You admire them, don’t you, Colonel.”

“It is not unforgivable to respect a brave and tenacious foe, Major.” Vorashin looked at him directly.

“Intelligent courage is a quality worthy of admiration no matter from which side it is displayed. I don’t expect you to understand it, Saamaretz. It was never taught to you.”

“They are the enemy,” Saamaretz said sharply. “We do not respect or admire an enemy of the Soviet people!”

Vorashin glanced at Devenko with a smile. “And they say there are no more Stalinists left.”

“I demand that you send a patrol to eliminate the enemy force!” Even beneath the goggles Vorashin could see that Saamaretz’s face was flushed. “As political officer of this unit, it is my duty and my right to insure the safety of this task force!”

“I am the military commander of this column, Major!” Vorashin barked. “I will decide when and where we engage an enemy. The security of this special unit is my responsibility.” He glanced quickly at Devenko, then back at Saamaretz. “However…” He nodded at the hill behind the KGB man. “…Since you are so concerned about the safety of our battalion, I will authorize forty volunteers to search and destroy the surviving Americans….”

“That’s better,” Saamaretz smirked. “They—”

“…under your command.”

Saamaretz’s eyes widened. “My command?”

Vorashin nodded. “It is your duty and your right, Major.”

“But—”

The colonel turned to Devenko. “See to it, Sergei. Detail six snowmobiles to a detachment to be led by the major. I will expect them to join up with the main body no later than midday tomorrow.”

Devenko smiled. “Yes, sir.”

“You think I can’t do it?” Saamaretz rasped. “That’s what you think, isn’t it? That I can’t lead—”

“You will be accompanying men who know what they’re doing,” Vorashin said. “Try not to lead them too strictly. I’d like them back.” He checked his watch. “Leave in twenty minutes.”

“I will,” Saamaretz hissed between his teeth. “I will!”

Vorashin watched him stomp toward the communications vehicle. He shook his head. “I am sorry to inflict him even on volunteers, Sergei,” he said.

“Maybe they will return without him.”

“I doubt it.” Vorashin looked up the hill. “I think men like Saamaretz were placed here so the rest of us would not be surprised when we meet the devil.” He pointed to the wind-swirled smoke rising against the faint horizon. “In a little while, Sergei, send a patrol out. I want their dead buried. We should not leave their bodies for the wolves.”

Devenko nodded. “I will see to it. Does it bother you, Alex, about the American commander? That we are sending Saamaretz to finish him?”

For several seconds Vorashin said nothing, then: “What bothers me, my friend, is that Saamaretz was right.”

THE WHITE HOUSE 1300 HRS

General Phillip Olafson walked briskly into the Oval Office. He greeted the president and nodded at Jules Farber. He preferred to stand rather than sit.

“Well, Phil,” McKenna said, “what’s the Joint Chiefs’ verdict?”

“We don’t think you should leave the capital, Mr. President,” the Air Force general said heavily.

“Whatever the Soviets are up to, this isn’t the time for the commander in chief to be away from center.

And Iceland?” Olafson shook his head. “That North Atlantic area is jammed with Soviet submarines.”

“We don’t have submarines in the North Atlantic?”

“Of course, but—”

“Are you saying I wouldn’t be safe in Iceland? It is still ours, isn’t it? I mean politically. It is a charter member of NATO, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir, but Iceland doesn’t have an army, navy or air force.”

“General, if I were to get into any trouble in Iceland, do you really think an Icelandic army, navy or air force would be of much use?” The president got up from his chair. “Anyway, the way 1 read this situation, Gorny is taking all the risks. He asked for this clandestine meeting. He chose Reykjavik. If he had any idea of trying something funny, do you really think he’d go to such trouble?”

“That’s why we’re very suspicious, Mr. President. It doesn’t make any sense, from the Soviet point of view.” McKenna breathed a heavy sigh. “Must there be a sinister side to everything, General?”