smoldering Soviet helicopter and dead bodies, left by the Special Forces team.
Hensly waited for a minute before he asked the question that was on everyone's mind. When Cerro had gotten over his fit, Hensly said as nonchalantly as he could, 'Well, I suppose this puts an end to this operation.'
Cerro replied, 'No bullshit, sir. Unless you happen to know where the place is, how many troops are there, how they're deployed, how many buildings there are and a few other minor details, this operation is officially over.'
Hensly was more surprised than upset. 'Didn't they tell you anything?'
With a sneer, Cerro shot back, 'Yeah, bring lots of ammo and be on time. The green beanies were going to brief us on all the details once we got here.' Looking up at the twisted tail boom of the M-8, he mused, 'Guess they had everything figured out except for these yahoos. Wonder what they were after.'
'Could be a routine patrol or a strike force looking for our friends the snake eaters and their friendly rag heads Maybe they were after the same thing we're here for.'
Cerro looked at his platoon leader and laughed. 'Now, wouldn't that be a trip. Both we and the Reds chasing a bunch of Irans with the Device.' Both Cerro and Kinsley laughed.
Hensly, picking through the wreckage, called out, 'That, gentlemen, may be right on the money.'
'Come on, Commander. Do you know what the odds of that happening are?'
'Before you put your money where your big mouth is, Lieutenant, come over here and look at this.'
Their curiosity aroused, Cerro and Kinsley walked over to where the lieutenant commander was picking through what appeared to be a tool bag.
Without looking up, he asked, 'You know that bag of special instruments I carry around?' He picked up a spanner and several other tools. 'Look familiar, don't they?'
Cerro stared at the tools, then at the helicopter. 'I'll be damned.'
Hensly stood up and looked Cerro in the eye. 'We'll all be damned if the Iranians pull off what I think they're after. Lieutenant Cerro, you're in command of the ground operation. I'm here only as a technician to identify anything we find and tell the Army what to blow up. I cannot order you to continue the mission. God knows, we've had enough bad luck as it is. But if we fail, and the Iranians do have another Device that they manage to set off, a lot of people are going to die. And that dying may not be confined to this country.'
The two lieutenants thought about that. 'You mean that the Russians might think we set the bomb off and retaliate?' Kinsley asked.
'Or, Lieutenant,' Hensly replied, 'it could be the other way around. Both the U.S. and the Soviet Union have a policy of retaliation in kind. Once we start popping nukes, who knows where it will end.'
For a long time the three officers stood there, looking at the burned tool bag and one another. Cerro finally broke the silence. 'Well, I guess it's decided. We go for it. Now, anyone got any bright ideas on how we're going to do it?'
Kinsley asked, 'What about the Commie major? Maybe he can help us?'
Cerro looked at Hensly, then at Kinsley. 'Right. You've been reading too many spy novels.' He scanned the wreckage and the bodies one more time, then turned back to Hensly. 'Well, standing here isn't getting us anywhere. How about some lunch, Commander?'
Through binoculars the wreckage of a helicopter could be seen among the trees. Occasional movement could also be seen. What could not be discerned was who the moving people were.
Ilvanich put his binoculars down and considered the possibilities. They could be the rest of the company. Perhaps one of the other helicopters had crashed, like theirs, because of engine failure. That could still leave the other platoon, if they had made it, to join the one with him to accomplish the mission. If that was so, Ilvanich hoped the helicopter that survived was the one with the KGB major.
That thought surprised him. For the first time, he realized that he actually liked the man. In Tabriz he had hated the KGB major at first for having made him play executioner. When the major pulled the platoon off that duty, he had been grateful, but that was all. At Kerman, Ilvanich had actually been able to hold a decent conversation with the man and had found he was human. What really won Ilvanich over, however, was that the KGB major volunteered to go on the mission.
In a guarded conversation, he told Ilvanich that he did not trust Lvov, but could not relieve him-Lvov's father was too well connected in the Party. Instead, the major said, he would go as the senior officer. That way he could ensure the success of the mission and protect Ilvanich from Lvov. When Ilvanich indicated to the major that he could deal with Lvov himself, the major told him to go easy.
Lvov was not worth a trip to a gulag. Given time, they could take care of Lvov properly. The fact that the major was truly interested in him and was willing to risk his life in battle impressed llvanich.
Putting all thoughts of Lvov and the major aside, Ilvanich considered the matter at hand. If the people moving about were not his, they were Iranians. Hostile ones, no doubt. Sliding back down behind the rise he was on, he turned to Malovidov and his senior sergeant. 'Lieutenant Malovidov, you will stay here and cover me. I will go forward with one man and find out who is there. If I do not return in an hour, you will continue with the mission as best you can. Is that clear?'
The junior lieutenant looked confused, but accepted the order. Several men volunteered to go with llvanich, forcing him to pick one. Without further ado, the two set out to crawl up to the well and find out who owned it.
Cerro crawled into the rifle pit between its two occupants. In a whisper, he asked, 'What's up?' The sergeant slowly pointed to a spot fifty meters to their front. 'Movement. We've been watching them for about five minutes. Looks like one or two guys tryin' to sneak up on us.'
Cerro lifted his binoculars to where the sergeant pointed, but saw nothing.
'Iranians?'
The private in the rifle pit replied, 'Don't think so, sir. Looks like they got some kind of uniform on, camouflaged.'
More Russians, Cerro thought. Had to be. Turning to the sergeant, he said, 'They're probably Russian. Chances are they're coming in here to find out what we're doing and what happened to their buddies. Take some men and capture them. I want you to do it quietly and without anyone out there seeing. No shooting, no screams. If you have to kill 'em, use the knife.'
After the sergeant left, Cerro sat in the pit and watched for a while longer, pondering his next move.
Everything was spinning, and the back of his head hurt. Ilvanich had not felt that bad since his first true drinking bout as a cadet. The glare of the sun did not help his blurred vision. As he sat up, he saw others standing around him. 'What happened?'
The answer, given in English, was a shock. 'You are a prisoner. Who are you and what are you doing here?'
Ilvanich turned to see who was speaking. The images were still blurry.
The one image that was not blurry was the muzzle of a rifle less than an inch from his nose.
The speaker asked again, 'Who are you and what are you doing here?'
Still befuddled, Ilvanich answered without thinking, 'Nikolai Ilvanich, junior lieutenant, no, lieutenant, Red Army. Who are you?'
A new voice from behind him spoke. 'Sonofabitch, he does speak English. See, I told ya, Hal. Most of 'em do.'
Ilvanich's vision cleared. A group of Americans stood near him, a guard in front of him, a second guard farther back with his rifle at the ready, and two men who were apparently officers squatting down beside him. Ilvanich turned to see a third guard and another officer behind him. Americans.
The younger officer in front smiled and said, 'Give that man a cigar. OK, Ivan, what are you doing here?'
Defiantly Ilvanich asked, 'Where is the man who was with me?'
Again it was the younger officer who spoke. 'He's with your major. Took a bayonet in the side. He'll be all right, if you cooperate.'
Letting his astonishment show, Ilvanich shot back, 'Major? Is he alive? Where is he?'
'Not so fast, Ivan.'
Regaining his composure and going back to the attack, Ilvanich replied, 'Ilvanich, Lieutenant Ilvanich. What is your name and rank?'
