'No prob', Gunny,' the fire-team leader said.
'Marines, let's get some chow. I want you people to rest up this afternoon. Eat your veggies. We want our eyes to work in the dark. Weapons stripped and cleaned for inspection at seventeen-hun'rd,' Albie told them. 'Y'all know what this is all about. Let's stay real cool and we'll get it done.' It was his time to meet again with the chopper crews for a final look at the insertion and extraction plans.
'Aye aye, sir,' Irvin said for the men.
'Hello, Robin.'
'Hi, Kolya,' Zacharias said weakly.
'I'm still working on better food.'
'Would be nice,' the American acknowledged.
'Try this.' Grishanov handed over some black bread his wife had sent him. The climate had already started to put mold on it, which Kolya had trimmed off with a knife. The American wolfed it down anyway. A sip from the Russian's flask helped.
'I'll turn you into a Russian,' the Soviet Air Force colonel said with an unguarded chuckle. 'Vodka and good bread go together. I would like to show you my country.' Just to plant the seed of the idea, in a friendly way, as one man talks to another.
'I have a family, Kolya. God willing -'
'Yes, Robin, God willing.' Or North Vietnam willing, or the Soviet Union willing. Or someone. Somehow he'd save this man, and the others. So many were friends now. He knew so much about them, their marriages, good and bad, their children, their hopes and dreams. These Americans were so strange, so open. 'Also, God willing, if the Chinese decide to bomb Moscow, I have a plan now to stop them.' He unfolded the map and set it on the floor. It was the result of all his talks with this American colleague, everything he had learned and analyzed formulated on a single sheet of paper. Grishanov was quite proud of it, not the least because it was the clear presentation of a highly sophisticated operational concept.
Zacharias ran his fingers over it, reading the notations in English, which looked incongruous on a map whose legend was in Cyrillic. He smiled his approval. A bright guy, Kolya, a good student in his way. The way he layered his assets, the way he had his aircraft patrolling back rather than forward. He understood defense in depth now. SAM traps at the ends of the most likely mountain passes, positioned for maximum surprise. Kolya was thinking like a bomber pilot now instead of a fighter jock. That was the first step in understanding how it was done. If every Russian PVO commander understood how to do this, then SAC would have one miserable time...
Dear God. Robin's hands stopped moving.
This wasn't about the ChiComs at all.
Zacharias looked up, and his face revealed his thought even before he found the strength to speak.
'How many Badgers do the Chinese have?'
'Now? Twenty-five. They are trying to build more.'
'You can expand on everything I've told you.'
'We'll have to, as they build up their force, Robin. I've told you that,' Grishanov said quickly and quietly, but it was too late, he saw, at least in one respect.
'I've told you everything,' the American said, looking down at the map. Then his eyes closed and his shoulders shook. Grishanov embraced him to ease the pain he saw.
'Robin, you've told me how to protect the children of my country. I have not lied to you. My father did leave his university to fight the Germans. I did have to evacuate Moscow as a child. I did lose friends that winter in the snow - little boys and little girls, Robin, children who froze to death. It did happen. I did see it.'
'And I did betray my country,' Zacharias whispered The realization had come with the speed and violence of a falling bomb. How could he have been so blind, so stupid? Robin leaned back, feeling a sudden pain in his chest, and in that moment he prayed it was a heart attack, for the first time in his life wishing for death. But it wasn't. It was just a contraction of his stomach and the release of a large quantity of acid, just the perfect thing, really, to eat away at his stomach as his mind ate away the defenses of his soul. He'd broken faith with his country and his God. He was damned.
'My friend -'
'You used me!' Robin hissed, trying to pull away.
'Robin, you must listen to me.' Grishanov wouldn't let go. 'I love my country, Robin, as you love yours. I have sworn an oath to defend her. I have never lied to you about that, and now it is time for you to learn other things.' Robin had to understand. Kolya had to make it clear to Zacharias, as Robin had made so many things clear to Kolya.
'Like what?'
'Robin, you are a dead man. The Vietnamese have reported you dead to your country. You will never be allowed to return home. That is why you are not in the prison- Hoa Lo, the Hilton, your people call it, yes?' It seared Kolya's soul when Robin looked at him, the accusation there was almost more than he could bear. When be spoke again, his voice was the one doing the pleading.
'What you are thinking is wrong. I have begged my superiors to let me save your life. I swear this on the lives of my children: Iwill not let you die. You cannot go back to America. I will make for you a new home. You will be able to fly again, Robin! You will have a new life. I can do no more than that. If I could restore you to your Ellen and your children, I would do it. I am not a monster, Robin, I am a man, like you. I have a country, like you. I have a family, like you. In the name of your God, man, put yourself in my place. What would you have done in my place? What would you feel in my place?' There was no reply beyond a sob of shame and despair.
'Would you have me let them torture you? I can do that. Six men in this camp have died, did you know that? Six men died before I came here. I put a stop toit! Only one has died since my arrival - only one, and I wept for him, Robin, did you know that! I would gladly kill Major Vinh, the little fascist. Ihave saved you! I've done everything in my power, and I have begged for more. I give you my own food, Robin, things that my Marina sends to me!'
'And I've told you how to kill American pilots - '
'Only if they attack my country can I hurt them. Only if they try to kill my people, Robin! Only then! Do you wish them to kill my family?'
'It's not like that!'
'Yes, it is. Don't you see? This is not a game, Robin. We are in the business of death, you and I, and to save lives one must also take them;'
Perhaps he'd see it in time, Grishanov hoped. He was a bright man, a rational man. Once he had time to examine the facts, he would see that life was better than death, and perhaps they could again be friends. For the moment, Kolya told himself, I have saved the man's life. Even if the Americancursesme for that, he will have to breathe air to speak his curse. Colonel Grishanov would bear that burden with pride. He'd gotten his information and saved a life in the process, as was entirely proper for an air-defense pilot of PVO Strany who'd sworn his life's real oath as a frightened and disoriented boy on his way from Moscow to Gorkiy.
The Russian came out of the prison block in time for dinner, Kelly saw. He had a notebook in his hands, doubtless full of the information he'd sweated out of the prisoners.
'We're going to get your sorry red ass,' Kelly whispered to himself. 'They're gonna put three willie-petes through that window, pal, and cook you up for dinner - along with all your fucking notes. Yeah.'
He could feel it now. It was, again, the private pleasure of knowing what would be, the godlike satisfaction of seeing the future. He took a sip from his canteen. He couldn't afford to dehydrate. Patience came hard now. Within his sight was a building with twenty lonely, frightened, and badly hurt Americans, and though he'd never met any of them, and though he only knew one by name, his was a worthy quest. For the rest, he tried to find the Latin from his high school: Morituri??? cognant, perhaps. Those who are about to die - just don't know. Which was just fine with Kelly.
'Homicide.'
'Hi, I'm trying to get Lieutenant Frank Allen.'
'You got him,' Allen replied. He'd been at his desk just five minutes this Monday morning. 'Who's this?'
'Sergeant Pete Meyer, Pittsburgh,' the voice replied. 'Captain Dooley referred me to you, sir.'
'I haven't talked to Mike in a while. Is he still a Pirates fan?'
'Every night, Lieutenant. I try to catch some of the games myself.'
'You want a line on the Series, Sarge?' Allen asked with a grin. Cop fellowship.
