World War III

“He’s on a patch through TAC COM. He’s—” Farber shrugged. “They say he’s cursing everyone from Fairbanks to the Pentagon. They think he’s a little hysterical. He’s been asking, well… demanding to speak to”—he glanced at his pad—” ‘the head fucking “asshole.’”

McKenna made an angry face. “He isn’t up there to make demands! He’s up there to carry them out!”

He reached for the phone.

Farber covered the receiver with his hand. “There’s one more thing, Mr. President. It’s from TAC

COM’s weather.” His mouth hinted a smile. “It’s the good news.”

“Well?”

“The weather is breaking. They say that within the next twenty-four hours they can get air support to Caffey.”

“Goddamn right!” Olafson said with a wide grin.

The president didn’t smile. He looked at the large clock above the projection screen. “That may be comforting to you, Phil, but the Soviet’s timetable calls for their people to be at White Hill in just under ten hours.” He glanced at Farber. “Unless Caffey can pull another miracle.”

Farber took his hand away from the phone. “Exactly, Mr. President.”

McKenna nodded. He exhaled a heavy breath. “We’re a handful of real sonofabitches, aren’t we, Jules?”

He picked up the receiver. “Hello,” he said evenly, “this is the head fucking asshole speaking.”

Caffey had moved his CP to the bedroom. The main room of the cabin had been patched up and was now a hospital ward which was crowded with wounded. Except he had nothing to give them. All the medical supplies had been used up or destroyed. He was treating gunshot wounds and burns with aspirins and iodine from the Joneses’ medicine cabinet. There wasn’t anything else.

He pressed the headphone closer to his ears when he heard the president’s voice again. It wasn’t the best connection. The signal wavered between poor and worse; but it was the best he could get, so he waited patiently each time the transmission faded. He glanced up at Kate and gave her a thumbs-up sign. The company’s entire officer corps hovered around the radio — all four of them.

“Yes, Mr. President, I still hear you,” Caffey said.

“What do you have left?” McKenna asked.

“I had ninety-two officers and men the last time we spoke,” Caffey said, looking at a list of names on a clipboard. “This morning I have nine people who can stand up… sixteen wounded. The rest are dead.”

There was a pause from Washington. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, Colonel. I know it’s been hell. I appreciate what you’ve done for me and for the country.”

“You said it would be a dirty job, sir.”

“I won’t forget it, Caffey. You can believe that.”

“What I’d like, sir, is some idea when I can get my wounded out of here. You said that there was a possibility that the weather would break soon. We’d like to get out of here, sir.”

“Yes, eh, I understand that, Colonel. Believe me, I do. I’m here with the Joint Chiefs of Staff and they each send you a heartfelt ‘Well done.’”

“My men are dying,” Caffey answered sharply. “I don’t need thanks, Mr. President. I need help.”

“Look, Caffey, I’m going to explain a situation to you that only a handful of people in the world are aware of. The Soviet Union has alerted its military to Mach Eagle readiness in response to our Defense Condition Three.…”

“We’ve gone to DefCon?” He glanced up at the faces around him.

“Just listen, please, Colonel. I’ve just returned from Iceland, where I met secretly with Chairman Gorny himself about this situation. I tried to bargain with him, but I have to assume I can’t haggle that task force of his out of there in the time we have left before they reach White Hill. Everyone is talking about avoiding war, but the situation keeps getting worse. We are very close to the edge, Colonel. Can you appreciate that? At this moment the Soviets are mobilizing. They’re sending a carrier task force in the direction of the Bering Strait. We are sitting on a bomb here and that’s no pun. Everything rests on whether or not that Soviet force reaches its objective. We need a few more hours, Caffey. If you can hold them up just that long—”

“Hold them!”

“—until the weather breaks, you’ll have all the help you can use. I’ll send the whole goddamn air force to you. But we need that time!”

Caffey wiped a hand across his face. “Mr. President, did you hear what I said? I have nine people here!

Nine! How do you expect me—”

“I have two hundred million people here, Colonel.”

“Jesus!” Caffey closed his eyes.

“You said you still have a helicopter. What about ammunition?”

Caffey shook his head. “We’re down to — I don’t know. Whatever it is, sir, it isn’t much.”

“Whatever it is, Colonel, it’ll have to do!” The president paused. “Colonel Caffey, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, sir. I know.”

“Hit them as hard as you can. Even if you have to use the helicopter…” McKenna’s voice trailed off.

“I’ll do whatever I can, Mr. President.” Caffey glanced at the grim faces around him. “Sir, when this is over, I…” He took a deep breath.

“Yes?”

“If you could notify our families… personally, I mean…”