The Minister nodded. He turned in his chair to look out the window for a few minutes while his son waited for a response.
'Before that is possible,' the Minister said finally, 'they will order Alekseyev's arrest. You know what's happened to the others they arrested, don't you?' It took his son a moment to grasp the father's words.
'They couldn't have!'
'Last night, all seven of them, including your former Commander-in-Chief.'
'But he was an effective commander-'
'He failed, Vanya,' the elder Sergetov said quietly. 'The State does not suffer failure gladly, and I have allied myself, for your sake, with Alekseyev…' His voice trailed off. I have no choice now. I must cooperate with Kosov, bastard or not, consequences or not. And I must risk your life also, Vanya. 'Vitaly will take you to the dacha. You will change into civilian clothes and wait for me. You will not go outside, you will not allow yourself to be seen by anyone.'
'But surely you are being watched!'
'Of course.' His father smiled briefly. 'I am being watched by officers of the Committee for State Security, officers of Kosov's personal staff'
'And if he plays you for a fool?'
'Then I am a dead man, Vanya, and so are you. Forgive me, I never dreamed that something like this would- you have made me very proud these last few weeks.' He rose and embraced his son. 'Go now, you must trust me.'
After his son left, Sergetov lifted his phone and dialed KGB headquarters. Director Kosov was out, and the Petroleum Minister left a message that the figures Kosov had requested on oil production in the Gulf States were ready.
The meeting requested by the Minister's use of the code phrase took place soon after sunset. By midnight, Ivan Mikhailovich was again on a plane bound for Germany.
'Director Kosov applauds your method for dealing with the traitor. He said that killing him, even accidentally, would have aroused suspicion, but now that he is safely behind enemy lines and doing his duty, they will be certain that he is not under suspicion.'
'The next time you see the bastard, tell him thank you.'
'Your friend was shot thirty-six hours ago,' Sergetov said next. The General snapped to rigid attention.
'What?'
'The former Commander-in-Chief West was shot, along with Marshal Shavyrin, Rozhkov, four others.'
'And that fucking Kosov congratulates me for-'
'He said there was nothing he could do about it and offers his condolences.'
Condolences from the Committee for State Security, Alekseyev thought. There will come a time, Comrade Kosov…
'I am next, of course.'
'You were right to have me float your rationale for future operations with my father. He and Kosov both feel that for you to propose this to STAVKA would mean your instant arrest. The Politburo still feels that victory is possible. When they lose that belief, anything can happen.'
Alekseyev knew exactly what anything meant.
'Go on.'
'Your idea to put experienced troops in the arriving C divisions has merit-anyone will see that. A number of such divisions are cycling through Moscow every day.' Sergetov halted to allow his general to draw his own conclusions.
The General's whole body appeared to shudder. 'Vanya, you are talking treason.'
'We are talking about the survival of the Motherland-'
'Do not confuse the importance of your own skin with the importance of our country! You are a soldier, Ivan Mikhailovich, as am I. Our lives are expendable pawns-'
'For our political leadership?' Sergetov scoffed. 'Your respect for the Party comes late, Comrade General.'
'I hoped that your father could persuade the Politburo to a more moderate course of action. I did not intend to incite a rebellion.'
'The time for moderation is long passed,' Sergetov replied, speaking like a young Party chieftain. 'My father spoke against the war, as did others, to no avail. If you propose a diplomatic solution, you will be arrested and shot, first for failing to achieve your assigned objective, second for daring to propose political policy to the Party hierarchy. With whom would you be replaced, and what would be the result? My father fears that the Politburo will lean towards a nuclear resolution of the conflict.' My father was right, Sergetov thought, for all his anger at the Party, Alekseyev has served the State too long and too well to allow himself to think realistically of treason.
'The Party and the Revolution have been betrayed, Comrade General. If we do not save them, both are lost. My father says that you must decide whom and what you serve.'
'And if I decide wrongly?'
'Then I will die, and my father, and others. And you will not have saved yourself.'
He's right. He's right on all things. The Revolution has been betrayed. The idea of the Party has been betrayed-but-
'You try to manipulate me like a child! Your father told you that I would not cooperate unless you convinced me of the idealistic'-the General sputtered for a moment, seeking the right word-'rightness, rightness of your action.'
'My father told me that you have been conditioned, just as the science of Communism says men can be conditioned. You have been told all your life that the Army serves the Party, that you are the guardian of the State. He told me to remind you that you are a man of the Party, that it is time for the people to reclaim the Party for themselves.'
'Ali, this is why he conspires with the Director of the KGB!'
'Perhaps you would prefer that we have some bearded priests from the Orthodox Church, or some dissident Jews from the Gulag to make the revolution a pure one? We must fight with what we have.' It was heady wine indeed for Sergetov to talk this way to a man with whom he had served under fire, but he knew that his father was right. Twice in fifty years, the Party had broken the Army to its will. For all their pride and power, the generals of the Soviet Army had as much instinct for rebellion as a lapdog. But once the decision is made, his father had told him… 'The Rodina cries out for rescue, Comrade General.'
'Don't tell me about the Motherland!' The Party is the soul of the people. Alekseyev remembered the slogan for a thousand repetitions.
'Then what of the children of Pskov?'
'The KGB did that!'
'Do you blame the sword for the hand that wields it? If so, what does that make you?'
Alekseyev wavered. 'It is not an easy thing to overturn the State, Ivan Mikhailovich.'
'Comrade General, is it your duty to carry out orders that will only bring about its destruction? We do not seek to overturn the State,' Sergetov said gently. 'We seek to restore the State.'
'We will probably fail.' Alekseyev took a perverse comfort in the statement. He sat down at his desk. 'But if I must die, better that it should be as a man than a dog.' The General took out a pad of paper and a pencil. He began to formulate a plan to ensure that they would not fail, and that he would not die until he had accomplished at least one thing.
They were good troops up there, Colonel Lowe knew. Nearly all of the division's artillery was lashing the hill, plus continuous air attacks, plus the battleships' five-inch guns. He watched his troops advancing up the steep slopes under fire from the remaining Russians. The battlewagons were close inshore, delivering VT proximity rounds from their secondary batteries. The shells exploded twenty feet or so from the ground in ugly black puffs that sprayed the hill with fragments, while the Marines' own heavy guns plowed up the hilltop. Every few minutes the artillery would stop for a moment to allow the aircraft to swoop in with napalm and cluster bombs-and still the Russians fought back.
