Cerro considered the Russian before him. He was a hard cookie. The direct approach didn't seem to work. Maybe he could soften him up some. Perhaps little give and-take. 'Lieutenant Harold Cerro, U.S. Army. Now, what are you doing here?'
'Before we talk anymore, I must see my major.' I must maintain the upper hand, Ilvanich thought.
The younger officer, the lieutenant named Cerro, seemed to be in charge.
Ilvanich kept looking at the other officer, the one with the insignia of an American major, who said nothing. Nor could Ilvanich detect any signals between the lieutenant named Cerro and that major. Perhaps he wasn't in command.
The one named Cerro turned to the major. 'I suppose it won't do any harm. What do you think, Commander?'
He is in command, Ilvanich thought. How strange, though-the lieutenant did all the talking. He must be intelligence or CIA.
Ilvanich was led to the KGB major. A medic and a guard were attending him and the man who had accompanied Ilvanich. The KGB major looked bad, very pale and in pain. When he saw Ilvanich he tried to speak, but could not.
Ilvanich knelt down next to him and looked at the wounds. The dressing was clean and neatly tied off. Ilvanich turned to the medic, a young black soldier. 'Will he live?'
The medic looked at Ilvanich, surprised that he spoke English. Without a second thought, he began to talk. 'He was hit twice by small-arms fire, in the side and the right arm, and he took a fragment, probably a grenade, in the left leg. He's lost a lot of blood, but no major arteries were severed. He was already in shock when we found him, but he seems to be responding well. If we can keep tine infections down, he'll do OK.'
The American in attendance had to be a doctor. How strange that such a small unit should have a doctor. 'The other man, how is he?'
The American doctor looked at the private who had come with Ilvanich.
His arm was in a sling. 'He's in good shape. His backhand ain't gonna be what it used to be, but he'll get used to it.'
The American guard laughed at that.
American humor, no doubt, Ilvanich thought.
The doctor said to Ilvanich, 'Let me see your head.' He looked at where Ilvanich had been hit. 'Hell of a bump. Cut too. I'll clean it.' He opened his medical bag and worked on Ilvanich for several minutes. When he was done, he handed Ilvanich two white pills. 'You're gonna have a helluva headache. Take these.'
Ilvanich looked at the pills suspiciously. A drug to make him talk? He took them in his hand and thanked the doctor before he was led away.
While he walked, he let the pills drop to the ground when he was sure no one was looking.
Ilvanich was taken to where Cerro sat alone. Cerro dismissed the guard and asked Ilvanich to sit across from him. Deciding that there was no time to play games and that the Russian was better trained to play them, anyhow, Cerro went straight to the point. 'Lieutenant Ilvanich, I know why you're here. You're after the Iranians making the atomic bombs, just like us.'
Ilvanich was taken aback by Cerro's statement. He shot back, 'I do not know what you are talking about. We were on patrol.' 'Bullshit, Lieutenant. My explosive-ordnance expert found your explosive-ordnance expert's tools on the helicopter your major was on,' Cerro countered.
The American is after something, Ilvanich thought. But what? If he knows what we were up to, what more does he need? To Cerro, 'And if we are, what does that mean to me? I am your prisoner.'
Cerro thought for a minute. Years of training had taught him not to trust Russians. If he told the Russian everything, he would be giving classified information to the enemy. But there was little choice. His men could not pull off the raid on their own with the little information he had. It was a gamble, but perhaps the Russian had information, and maybe, just maybe, he would cooperate. Kinsley's far-out idea didn't seem so far out anymore.
'We need each other. The people I was supposed to meet ran into your major and his helicopter. Apparently they left after they fired up the helicopter. I have the men to pull off the operation, but I don't know anything about the Iranian installation, troop strength or layout. If you have this information, we can work together.'
'What makes you think I might have any such information? I am, after all, only a lieutenant, like you. Besides, we are at war with each other. To tell you anything would be treason. Surely you know that. You are a soldier. '
Cerro became angry. 'Yeah, I know that, Ilvanich. But I also know that we, both you and I, are at war with Iran. I also know those crazy rag heads have an atomic bomb. They tried to use one on us already. Your people may be next. Do you know what that means?'
Ilvanich thought before he answered. What a strange situation. Three countries at war with one another. Two men, each trained from childhood to hate and distrust the other. Now one was asking the other to trust him.
Ilvanich said to himself, I wonder what Lenin would have done. Then to Cerro, 'And if we do cooperate, what will happen after the raid? Do we start killing each other again?
'Good question,' Cerro said. 'No, at least not right away. I propose we simply withdraw from each other. I let you and your people, along with your wounded, be extracted, and you let me and my men go.'
'How do I know you will do this when we are of no further use to you?'
'You don't-at least, not for sure. Just like I don't know for sure if you'll let me go. You'll have to accept my word.'
'And if you are killed, what good is your word?'
'Lieutenant Kinsley will honor our agreement.'
Ilvanich was confused. Why was the lieutenant doing this? 'What about your major? What does he have to say?'
Cerro looked at him, bewildered for a moment, then smiled. 'Oh, you mean Lieutenant Commander Hensly. He's Navy. He's my bomb expert. He has nothing to do with running the operation, just checking out the bomb and showing us what to blow. '
'Like my bomb expert,' Ilvanich enjoined.
'Yeah, like yours. Is it a deal?'
How strange war is, Ilvanich mused. 'You realize we may be killing each other in another week.'
Cerro looked him in the eye and returned, 'If we don't pull this off, none of us may be around in a week.'
Chapter 17
Time is everything: Five minutes makes the difference between victory and defeat.
The two lieutenants crept along the ditch to get a closer look at the buildings in the center. The darkness made their advance easier. Five hundred meters away six men, three American, three Soviet, waited for the return of their lieutenants. After agreeing to work together, the two commanders had decided that a recon of the site was needed. That would mean delaying the attack until the next night. They had, however, decided that the intelligence gained was worth the risk. As Ilvanich pointed out, time spent in reconnaissance was time well spent.
The men of both units were uneasy about the coalition formed by their commanders. It was, as one American had said, 'unnatural.' The two lieutenants, however, endeavored to impress upon their men the nature of the mission and what it meant if they failed. With great reluctance, the two units had merged, in a way. Each group had gravitated to one side of the oasis and posted guards, half of whom watched outward to protect against the Iranians and the other half inward, to protect against their new 'ally.' Even as they approached the Iranian compound, the close proximity of their new comrades caused more concern than did the threat of an Iranian
