Chapter 16
The unleashed power of the atom has changed everything save our modes of thinking, and we thus drift toward unparalleled catastrophes.
The airfield was visible from a distance as the patrol crossed the open fields. The sight gave the footsore paratroopers heart. After four days of ceaseless patrolling during the day that found nothing and ambushes at night that yielded nothing, the men were tired. The airfield promised them a meal of hot tea and kasha. While they were on patrol campfires had not been allowed, preventing the men from preparing tea to accompany their dry rations of canned meat and black bread. Though they knew they would have only two days, three at the most, before they went out again, any break was welcome.
Before entering the airfield's perimeter, the patrol was stopped by their commanding officer and ordered to straighten out their uniforms and equipment. They would still be dirty, but at least they would give the impression that they were a disciplined military unit. The paratroopers, despite being tired and anxious to get back into the safety of the perimeter, did not complain. No one, not even new men assigned to the unit, complained or hesitated when Lieutenant Ilvanich gave an order.
As if on parade, Ilvanich, followed by Junior Lieutenant Malovidov, walked down the line of paratroopers, stopping in front of each.
Ilvanich addressed each paratrooper by his full name and chatted or joked with him while he inspected or made an adjustment.
Malovidov watched intently everything livanich did. New to the unit, he had been sent on the patrol to learn from llvanich. Intimidated at first due to his teacher's reputation and manner, Malovidov was confused by the time they finished. Most of what the lieutenant did and the way in which he conducted himself had never been taught in the military academy or the officers' training courses Malovidov had attended. Ilvanich often did not follow doctrine or proper procedures.
Despite his cold and aloof manner, the men under his command worshiped him, following his every order and direction without hesitation, question or complaint. When combat appeared imminent, the lieutenant became a cold, unfeeling machine, seeing all and spewing out orders rapidly, efficiently. The men responded to him as if they had anticipated his orders. When Malovidov asked livanich why he had done something, the lieutenant often snapped, 'Because that is the way to do it.' The junior lieutenant, having much to learn, was not sure he could from such an enigma.
Nor could Malovidov penetrate Ilvanich's personal world. Efforts at striking up conversation about home and family were met with silence or curt remarks such as 'That is not important right now' or 'You should be concerning yourself with military matters, not idle gossip.' As far as Malovidov could determine, Ilvanich had no real friends. What free time he had he spent alone, often out of sight of the rest of the unit. This worried Malovidov. He wondered whether he himself would be come as sullen and unfriendly once he had been in combat as much as Ilvanich had been. He hoped he would not, but he did not discount the possibility. The young lieutenant had heard that combat did strange things to a man's mind.
As the patrol entered the perimeter, Ilvanich was shocked to see the KGB major for whom he had worked in Tabriz. The major was waiting for him.
After the two officers saluted, the KGB major offered a friendly smile, while the lieutenant carefully guarded his surprise and suspicions.
'Lieutenant Ilvanich, congratulations on your well deserved promotion.'
Ilvanich, straight-faced, thanked the major. Then, anxious to find out the purpose of the visit, he asked, 'What brings you, Comrade Major, to the garden spot of Iran?'
The major laughed and threw his arm around llvanich. 'We have a mission for you. Turn your patrol over to the junior lieutenant and walk with me.'
A sinking feeling began to grow in llvanich's stomach while they walked.
The image of the dead prisoners stacked against the wall in Tabriz came to mind. Hesitantly he asked, 'What, Comrade Major, is the nature of the mission?'
The major, serious now, spoke slowly, guardedly. 'It is a matter of great importance to the State. Much depends on its success.'
Everything, Ilvanich thought, is a matter of great importance to the KGB.
I wonder how many children we must kill this time.
The briefing, the atmosphere and the collection of rank overwhelmed Second Lieutenant Cerro. As he sat there, he wished he could slither under the table he was seated at and low-crawl out the door. That option, however, was definitely out. There were too few people in the room. His absence would be noticed. Besides, the corps commander kept watching him, almost as if he knew of Cerro's plans to escape. At the table, along with the corps commander, there were several full colonels, a Special Forces major, a naval officer whose rank Cerro didn't know, and two other airborne-company commanders from Cerro's battalion. Cerro had never seen this side of the Army before. Earlier, as he walked through the corps headquarters with the other company commanders and waited for the meeting to start, he had watched majors and lieutenant colonels scurrying about like office boys, scribbling on paper, posting maps, answering phones. Cerro wondered whether there were any second lieutenants in the corps headquarters and, if there were, what their jobs were.
Once the meeting began, behind closed doors with MPs posted at them, Cerro became more bewildered and, because of the subject, frightened.
As the briefers went through their presentations, a story that sounded more like a poor made-for-TV movie plot began to unfold: In a sweep of the battlefield on 13 July, the wreck of an Iranian F-4 fighter-bomber had been found just north of Saadatabad. Shot down on the ninth, the plane was carrying a crude atomic bomb.
Despite the fact that everyone except Cerro seemed to know about the 'Device,' as they called it, all present still were visibly uneasy every time it was mentioned. When the corps intelligence officer presented his suppositions on what the plane with the Device was up to, several of the colonels questioned him. A lively debate was cut short by the corps commander, who stated, 'Gentlemen, I really don't give a damn what they were going to do with it. What I want to know is what we are going to do to find out if they have more and how we are going to keep those fanatics from using them.'
The intelligence officer, using a map, explained that by reviewing Air Force records of all air battles fought on the ninth, they had been able to locate where the F-4 had originated. When information obtained from other sources, including a Special Forces team dropped into the area, was added to this, it had been determined that a secret, well-secured base was being operated by the Iranians near Robat-a Abgram in the Dasht-a Lut. Since the F-4 had first been detected by AWACS in that area, the connection was made that the Devices were being either stored or manufactured there. Other than that, intelligence had nothing to offer.
The corps operations officer followed with his report. He stated that CENT COM apprised of the matter, had given the corps the mission of following up on the theory that the Device had probably come from either Robat-e Abgram or one of two other sites. It was the task of the 10th Corps to find the real site and take it out. The operations officer presented to the corps commander all possible options available to accomplish the mission, recounted all pros and cons for each option and presented a coordinated staff recommendation. It had been decided that ground attacks, led by Special Forces A teams and supported by an airborne company hitting each site, were best. By going in on the ground, they could confirm whether or not the secret site was in fact the storage place or the plant where the Device was manufactured. In addition, a ground attack would ensure complete destruction of all critical elements, personnel and Devices.
It suddenly dawned on Cerro why he was there. His company would be one of the airborne companies. When
