jerked right to evade, but the street was too narrow for that. The chain gun was a nice compromise between a machinegun and a cannon. The gunner was able to walk his tracers into the target, and had the satisfaction of watching it explode. But—
“Back fast — now!” the sergeant screamed into the intercom. There had been a third BDRM back there. The Bradley retreated the way it had come. Barely had it gotten behind the buildings when a missile streaked down the street it had crossed, trailing a thin wire behind it. The missile exploded a few hundred meters away.
“Time to leave, turn us around,” the track commander said. Then he activated his radio. “This is Delta Three-Three. We have contact with reconnaissance vehicles. Two destroyed, but the third one spotted us. We got more friends coming in, sir.”
“General, we've pushed them back across the line, I can hold out against what's here, but if more gets in to us, we're screwed,” Colonel Lang said. “Sir, we need help here!”
“Okay, I'll have some air to you in ten minutes. Fast-movers on the way now.”
“That's a start, but I need more than that, sir.”
SACEUR turned to his operations officer. “What's ready?”
“Second of the 11th Cav, sir. They're moving out of their kazerne right now.”
“What's between them and Berlin?”
“Russians? Not much. If they move fast… ”
“Move 'em out.” SACEUR walked back to his desk and lifted the phone for Washington.
“Yes, what is it?” Fowler asked.
“Sir, it appears that the Russians are bringing reinforcements into Berlin. I have just ordered the 2nd Squadron, 11th Armored Cav to move towards Berlin to reinforce. I also have aircraft heading in now to assess the situation.”
“Do you have any idea what they're up to?”
“None, sir, it makes no damned sense at all, but we still have people being killed. What are the Russians telling you, Mr. President?”
“They're asking why we attacked them, General.”
“Are they nuts?” Or is it something else? SACEUR wondered. Something really frightening?
“General,” it was a woman's voice, probably that Elliot woman, SACEUR thought. “I want to be very clear on this. Are you sure that the Soviets initiated the attack?”
“Yes, ma'am!” SACEUR replied heatedly. “The commander of the Berlin Brigade is probably dead. The XO is Lieutenant-Colonel Edward Long. I know the kid, he's good. He says the Russians opened fire on the brigade without warning while they were responding to the alert you sent out from D.C. They didn't even have their tubes loaded. I repeat, ma'am, the Russians are the ones who started shooting, and that's definite. Now, do I have your permission to reinforce?”
“What happens if you don't?” Fowler asked.
“In that case, Mr. President, you have about five thousand letters to write.”
“Look, okay, send in the reinforcements. Tell Berlin to take no offensive action. We're trying to get things settled down.”
“I wish you luck, Mr. President, but right now I have a command to run.”
PRESIDENT NARMONOV:
WE HAVE RECEIVED WORD FROM EUROPE THAT AS OVIET TANK REGIMENT LAUNCHED AN ATTACK ON OUR BERLIN BRIGADE WITHOUT WARNING. I JUST TALKED TO OUR COMMANDER, AND HE CONFIRMS THAT THIS IS TRUE.
WHAT IS HAPPENING? WHY DID YOUR TROOPS ATTACK OUR TROOPS?
“Have we heard anything from Berlin yet?” Narmonov asked.
The Defense Minister shook his head. “No, the lead reconnaissance elements should be getting in now. Radio communications are a disaster. Our VHF radios work poorly in cities because they are line-of-sight only. What we're getting is fragmented, mainly tactical communications between sub-unit commanders. We have not established contact with the regimental commander. He may be dead. After all,” Defense pointed out, “the Americans like to go after commanders first.”
“So, we really do not know what is going on?”
“No, but I am certain that no Soviet commander would open fire on Americans without just cause!”
Golovko closed his eyes and swore under his breath. Now the Defense Minister was showing the strain.
“Sergey Nikolay'ch?” Narmonov asked.
“We have nothing more to report from KGB. You may expect that all of the American land-based missiles are fully on alert, as are all their submarine missiles at sea. We estimate that the American missile submarines in port will all have sortied in a matter of hours.”
“And our missile submarines?”
“One is leaving the dock now. The rest are preparing to do so. It will take most of the day to get them all out.”
“Why are we so slow?” Narmonov demanded.
“The Americans have two complete crews for their boats. We have only one. It's simply easier for them to surge them out this way.”
“So, you are telling me that their strategic forces are totally ready, or nearly so, and ours are not?”
“All of our land-based rockets are fully prepared.”
“President Narmonov, your reply to the Americans…?”
“What do I say now?” Andrey Il'ych asked.
A colonel entered the room. “Report from Berlin.” He handed it to the Defense Minister.
“The Americans are in the eastern part of the city. The first wave of scout cars was taken under fire. Four vehicles, the officer commanding was killed in one of them. We've returned fire and gotten two American vehicles… no contact as yet with our regiment.” The Defense Minister looked at the other one. “Carrier Kuznetzov reports that he launched a two-plane patrol. They detected a rescue radio signal and went to investigate. Contact was then lost. They have an American carrier battle group four hundred kilometers away, and request instructions.”
“What does that mean?”
The Defense Minister checked the times on the second dispatch. “If our planes are not back by now, they are nearly out of fuel. We must assume they were lost, cause unknown, but the close proximity of the American carrier is troubling… What the hell are they doing?”
PRESIDENT F OWLER:
I AM CERTAIN THAT NO SOVIET COMMANDER WOULD ATTACK AMERICAN TROOPS WITHOUT ORDERS, AND THERE WERE NO SUCH ORDERS. WE HAVE SENT ADDITIONAL TROOPS INTO BERLIN TO INVESTIGATE, AND THEY WERE ATTACKED BY YOUR FORCES IN THE EASTERN PART OF THE CITY, WELL AWAY FROM YOUR ENCAMPMENT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
“What the hell is he talking about? What am I doing? What the hell is he doing!” Fowler growled. A light came on. It was the CIA. The President pushed the button, adding a new line to his conference call.
“That depends on who 'he' is,” Elliot warned.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Mr. President, what we have here is simple confusion.”
“Ryan! We don't want analysis, we want information. Do you have any?” Liz shouted.
“The Soviets are sortieing their ships out of the Northern Fleet ports. One missile submarine is supposed to be heading out.”
“So, their land-based missiles are fully alerted?”
