thought about Zack, repeating to himself, 'Idiot, idiot.'
Fifty yards away, by the tunnel entrance, Captain Smithy waited impatiently while the demolition team finished placing their charges. Though they had planned on such an eventuality, Smithy was upset that they hadn't been able to drop the guards before they closed the door. It would have been, he thought, so much quicker, so much easier.
To his rear, Smithy could hear the third and last wave of Blackhawks lifting off, telling him that the last of his company was in. Turning his head, he watched as the 2nd Platoon began to deploy to the left of the 1st Platoon, now in positions along the outer perimeter fence. The guard shack at the outer perimeter fence was where the two platoons came together and, because it was centrally located and easy to find, served as the company headquarters. Noticing the Russian airborne major standing next to the door of the guard shack, Smithy watched him for a moment. Smithy didn't like that Russian. While the fat major was a nuisance, he at least seemed friendly; and besides, his knowledge of the site had been and continued to be useful. Major Ilvanich, however, was different. He had a sinister air about him. Smithy had decided early that this man, laconic and stone-faced, was not to be trusted. As Smithy watched, Ilvanich moved away from the guard shack, unslinging his AK assault rifle and working its bolt while he looked around, observing the deployment of the 2nd Platoon. Wondering why he wasn't staying with Zack, as he had been told, Smithy was about to go over and find out when the sergeant in charge of the demolition team tapped Smithy on the shoulder. 'We're ready to blow it, sir.'
Anxious to get on with this, Smithy forgot about the Russian major and shifted his full attention to the matter at hand. Slapping the demo team leader on the side of the arm, Smithy yelled, 'Okay, let's get this show on the road.'
Turning, the demo sergeant cupped his hands over his mouth, yelling, 'FIRE IN THE HOLE! FIRE IN THE HOLE! FIRE IN THE HOLE!' before giving one of his people the high sign to set off the charge.
Followed by the fat Russian major, Smithy moved around to the front of the protective barrier that had failed to save the two Ukrainian guards, yelling to the 3rd Platoon leader to be ready to rush the tunnel as soon as the charge went off. Ducking behind the concrete wall, Smithy prepared to wait until the blast door had been breached and the 3rd Platoon had completed their forced entry. While he waited, Smithy watched the members of 2nd Platoon who had not yet deployed seek cover. For the first time it dawned upon him that the floodlights were still on, bathing the entire area in light and making every move around the tunnel entrance visible for miles. Smithy was still debating whether this was good or bad when the demo charge went off.
At the other end of the tunnel, a group of Ukrainian soldiers peered over their hastily constructed barricade while they watched and waited nervously for their attackers to show themselves. Behind them, their commander, Captain G. Biryukov from the Ukrainian internal security forces, wondered what was going on outside. Except for a single panicked call from a guard at the entrance to the tunnel informing him that they were under attack, he knew nothing. In fact, Biryukov didn't even know that their assailants were Americans. Like everyone else in the tunnel, Biryukov assumed they were Russians. He had in fact even reported that to the reaction force. Efforts to report his situation to the commander of the Ruthenian military district using the direct line to the district command and control bunker east of Mukacevo had failed. That line, for some reason, was dead.
Nervously glancing around, Biryukov began to reconsider the wisdom of making a stand in the assembly chamber. At first he had considered surrendering this cavernous hall to the attackers and withdrawing his men to the two storage chambers below. That would have placed two massive barriers between his men and the Russians?the blast door at the entrance to the tunnel and the steel doors at both ends of the separate elevator shafts that serviced each of the two lower chambers. It had been a tempting thought, an option which he now regretted that he had not taken. To do so, of course, would not only have surrendered the assembly chamber, it would have meant splitting his meager force in half, with one group going down to protect the casings and triggering mechanisms in one chamber to the right of the assembly chamber while the others went down to protect the plutonium cores, the heart of the nuclear devices, which were kept in the other lower chamber to the left. In the end the fact that there were no communications facilities to the outside world in either of the lower chambers had tipped the scale in favor of holding on to the assembly chamber as long as possible. Besides, at the time Biryukov had made his decision, something that he had always found difficult, he had reasoned that if things went bad and the reaction force didn't make it to him before the Russians broke in, he could always retreat down to the other chambers. It was a safe compromise, one which he could justify to his superior.
When the thought that he would never have the need to justify it occurred to Biryukov as he watched and waited with his men, he called his deputy, a young lieutenant, and a sergeant over. Both men pulled themselves away from their positions at the barricade and trotted over to where Biryukov stood next to the elevator shaft leading to the chamber where the plutonium cores were stored. After the lieutenant and sergeant presented themselves, Biryukov looked at the main tunnel entrance, then at each of the two men before him. 'Lieutenant Sorokovoy, give Sergeant Popel your key.'
Startled by the order, both Sorokovoy and Popel turned and looked at each other wide-eyed before turning back to face their commander. The key in question was one of a pair that was needed to initiate the self-destruct sequence designed as a last-ditch effort to deny capture of weapons at the storage facility. According to regulations, only officers were permitted to carry the keys. Even under the most extreme circumstances, no one had ever thought of relinquishing control of a key except to another officer authorized to have it. So Biryukov's order was a shock to both his subordinates.
With both men staring at Biryukov, he took a deep breath. 'Unless the main reaction force arrives in the next few minutes, we will lose this facility. My orders are to prevent the loss of any weapons. Since I am unable to contact the commander of the reaction force or the military district command post, I must assume the worst and prepare to execute my orders.' Biryukov paused to let what he had just said sink in. 'Lieutenant Sorokovoy, you will remain with the main force here on this level and hold for as long as you can. Sergeant Popel will accompany me with two men to the lower level and wait as long as we can before initiating the sequence.'
Still stunned, neither Sorokovoy nor Popel responded at first. Instructions for activating the small atomic demolition device that would destroy the storage site in order to prevent compromise were classified top secret and were supposed to be known only by the officers of the guard. That every sergeant in the force knew how to do it was an open secret. Still, thoughts of the consequences of admitting it, even under these circumstances, caused the sergeant to hesitate.
An ear-splitting blast wrenched Biryukov's attention back to the far end of the tunnel. The Russians were attempting to breach the blast door. From somewhere to his right a sergeant yelled to his men, 'Here they come!'
Biryukov looked toward the door, then back at his subordinates, yelling as he did so. 'Lieutenant Sorokovoy, the key. Give the key to Sergeant Popel now!' Sorokovoy, also looking toward the tunnel entrance, pulled the key from around his neck and offered it to Popel without looking. Popel, knowing what all of this meant, took the key dangling from a chain and held it at arm's length as if it were a poisonous snake. Only Biryukov's shouted orders got him to react.
'All right, Lieutenant Sorokovoy, you have your instructions. Do the best you can and pray the reaction force reacts.' When Sorokovoy was gone, Biryukov reached out and grasped Popel on his shoulder. 'Come, Sergeant. Stay next to me. And whatever happens up here, we must make it down that elevator. Understood?'
After Popel nodded, Biryukov moved closer to the barricade. Like everyone else, he lowered his head and steadied his weapon. As he watched and waited for the assault force to come, a gray cloud caused by the explosion crept down toward them, filling the chamber with acrid smoke. Instead of a stampede of boots, however, the first noise that came from the gray cloud was a series of clicks and hisses. It took Biryukov a second to understand what was happening. When he did, his warning was cut short by a series of pops as the flash grenades went off and flooded the tunnel with blinding light.
Damn, he thought as he rubbed his eyes. Damn! You fool, you know better. You know the drill. Blind the defenders with smoke or flash grenades and then attack. It was a standard drill for the KGB strike teams. Still unable to see, Biryukov was alerted by a new series of pops and hissing sounds to the next step in the KGB drill. Reaching down, Biryukov grabbed for his chemical protective mask, yelling as he worked to pull it out of its carrier, 'GAS! GAS! GAS!'
Though the second series of grenades were only HC grenades, white smoke, Biryukov and his men had no way of knowing and were not about to take a chance. Had they realized that the attackers were American rangers and not KGB, they might have forgone the hassle of putting on their protective masks. As it was, the smoke
