'No. Washington decided that,' Rodgers replied. He helped Apu to his feet but his eyes remained on Friday.
'Even though we don't know where we're going,' Friday repeated.
'Especially because of that,' Rodgers said.
'If they want to keep the target a secret it must be important.'
Friday did not disagree. He simply did not trust the people in Washington to do what was best for him. On top of that, Friday loathed Rodgers. He had never liked military people.
They were pack animals who expected everyone else to obey the pack leader's commands and conform to the pack agenda, even if that meant dying for the pack. Standing up to captors instead of cooperating for the good of all. That was not his way. It was the reason he worked alone. One man could always find a way to survive, to prosper.
Nanda and Samouel both moved to where Rodgers was standing with Apu. If the Indian woman had decided to continue on to the line of control, Friday would have gone with her. But if she was joining Rodgers, Friday had no choice but to go along with them.
For now.
Friday extinguished the torch by touching it to the melted ice. The water would freeze in seconds and he could knock the ice off if they needed the torch again.
The group continued its trek across the ice with Samouel in the lead and Rodgers and Nanda helping Apu. Friday kept his right hand in his pocket, on the gun. If at any point he did not like how things were going he would put them back on their original course.
With or without General Rodgers.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE.
The Himachal Peaks Thursday, 11:41 p. m.
It had been an arduous day for Major Dev Puri and the two hundred men of his elite front line regiment. This was supposed to be a straightforward sweep of the foothills of the Great Himalaya Range.
Instead, it had become a forced march sparked by surprising intelligence reports, unexpected enemies, evolving strategies, and constantly changing objectives.
The most recent shift was the riskiest. It carried the danger of drawing the attention of Pakistani border forces. Because of Pun's mission, it would be much easier for the enemy to cross the line of control at Base 3.
The Indian soldiers had been marching virtually without rest since they left the trenches. The terrain was merely rugged to start. Then the higher elevations brought cold and walls of wind. The successful attack on the paratroopers had given the force a much-needed morale boost as they continued to search for the Pakistani cell. But darkness and sleet had battered them as they ascended. Now they were looking at a climb that was going to tax their energies to the limit.
Then there was the unknown factor: the strength and exact location of the enemy. It was not the way Major Puri liked to run a campaign.
Nearly eight hours before, the Indian soldiers had begun closing ranks at the base of the Gompa Tower in the Himachal cluster of peaks. The latest intelligence Puri had received was that American soldiers were jumping in to help the terrorists get through the line of control to Pakistan. That was where the parachutists had been headed. The Pakistani cell was almost certainly there as well. There was no way forward except through the Indian soldiers. The Pakistanis were undoubtedly exhausted and relatively under armed now that the Americans had been stopped.
Still, Major Puri did not underestimate them. He never took an enemy for granted when they had the high ground. The plan he and his lieutenants had worked out was to have twenty-five men ascend the peak while the rest covered them from the ground with highpowered rifles and telescopic sights. Twenty-five more would be ready to ascend as backup if needed.
One or another of the teams was bound to take the cell. One or another of the teams was also likely to take casualties. Unfortunately, Defense Minister Kabir did not want to wait for the Pakistanis to come down. Now that Americans had been killed there would be hard questions from Washington and New Delhi about what had happened to the paratroopers.
The minister was doing his best to stall air reconnaissance from moving in to locate and collect the American remains. He had already informed the prime minister that Major Puri's team was in the region and would pinpoint them for the Himalayan Eagles.
What Kabir feared was that air reconnaissance might locate the Pakistanis as well as the paratroopers. The defense minister did not want the cell to be taken alive.
Using night glasses and shielded flashlights, the Indian troops had been deploying their climbing gear. They had detected faint heat signatures above and knew the enemy was up there waiting.
Unfortunately, fly overs would not help them now. The fierce ice storms above made visibility and navigation difficult. And blind scatter-bombing of the region was not guaranteed to stop the cell.
There were caves they could hide in. Besides, there were very holy, anchoritic religious sects and cliff-dwelling tribes living in the foothills and in some of the higher caves. The last thing either side wanted was to collate rally destroy the homes or temples of these neutral peoples. That would force them or their international supporters into political or military activism.
The Indian soldiers were nearly halfway into the preparations to scale the cliff when Major Puri received a surprising radio communique.
Earlier in the day a helicopter on routine patrol had reported what looked like the wreckage of an aircraft in the Mangala Valley.
However, there was no room for the chopper to descend and search for possible survivors.
Major Puri had dispatched a four-soldier unit to investigate.
