Yuri shook his head. 'I cannot. First, I do not have all the answers. No one person does. It will be a journey, a matter of piecing together small bits of evidence to obtain a complete picture. However, I think you will find our assistance quite helpful in this regard.'
His dark eyes studied me for a moment, as though deciding how much I already knew. 'There have been rumors,' he continued carefully, 'about Russian participation in the debriefing of American prisoners of war in Vietnam. Most of them are false. Some of them are true.'
'And my father?'
Yuri spread his hands out before him. 'I cannot say for certain,' he said bluntly, and there was a ring of truth I recognized in his voice. 'I suspect he might have been interrogated here ? in this very camp. In fact, I am almost certain that he was brought here from the first place you visited and held for quite some time. After that, the trail is not entirely clear.'
'There were other rumors as well,' I said. 'That American POWs were taken to Russia for further interrogation. What do you know about that?'
'it is possible. Again, I cannot offer you complete answers. Only our assurances that we will do everything we can, including opening archives so secret that their existence is barely acknowledged.' A small, satisfied expression came over his face. 'We have intelligence agencies that are quite capable of tracking down information, even when the trail is very, very cold. The GRU, the KGB ? they still exist, although they carry other names now. Their full resources would be placed at your disposal.'
'First off,' I began, 'I have no proof that any of this is true. None at all. Now, I'm not accusing you of lying,' I continued, holding up one hand to forestall comment, 'but you must admit that this entire scenario is inherently improbable. The story you tell, the promises you make ? on the face of it, there's some degree of plausibility, but you haven't shown me any hard proof.'
'Second, you would have to understand that I cannot promise to keep any secrets for your country. My superiors will have to be told the true story ? not all of them, of course, but the ones that matter. Like my uncle. He deserves to know what happened to his brother. I will leave it up to him to decide who else to tell.'
Yuri nodded slowly. 'I understand the need for proof,' he said. 'I can supply that ? at least in part measure. The truck they are preparing will take us within surveillance range of this facility I spoke of. You will be able to verify it for yourself, at least to the extent that you can do so while there. I believe if you query your U.S. intelligence assets, you may find that they have other confirmation as well.'
He paused for a moment, then continued. 'And as to the need for secrecy, while your position is regrettable, I understand it completely. We know we cannot expect any promises on your part. However, when information you have may endanger private citizens or other sources, we will ask you to use your own discretion in disclosing that information to your people. Fair enough?'
I nodded slowly, still overwhelmed by the strategic problem that Yuri had dumped squarely in my lap.
'What's in it for you?' I asked.
Yuri's face was grim. 'My country. These weapons must be eliminated. I have a number of reasons for suspecting that Ukraine may be the first target.'
'Such as?'
'You know our country somewhat,' Yuri said. 'The east and the west sectors of Ukraine are radically different. The eastern has more in common with the Middle East, the western with Europe. Until now, we have had more in common with each other than with the outside world, but that might not always be true. Ukraine would form a perfect staging point for Middle Eastern forces to threaten both Russia and Europe. If there is anything in my power to do so, I will not see foreign troops standing on Ukrainian soil again. Not in my generation, and not in my son's. Can you understand how very important that is to us? I doubt it. America is a bastion, protected from land invasion by the oceans that surround her. You have never felt the pounding of enemy bombs on your cities, seen hordes of enemy soldiers flooding into your country. But for us, the prospect is very real ? and not so remote.' He eyed me coldly for a moment, then said, 'You consider yourself a patriot, Admiral Magruder. I know this about you. Do you find it so unbelievable that a Ukrainian officer would regard himself likewise?'
The question hung in the air, demanding an answer. I knew that there were other men in the world that felt as passionately about their nations as I did about the United States, and often our interests culminated in war. And from my studies in history, I knew what Yuri said was true. Ukraine had every reason to fear tactical nuclear weapons, in a way that America would find hard to understand.
But could I do this? Cooperate with the Ukrainians in order to prevent a war? Or was I trying to rationalize it, a motive born out of the deep-seated need to find out what had happened to my father?
'I'll need to get back to my ship,' I said finally. 'No promises yet, but I will try to verify what you've told me. And yes, I understand why you've approached me in this way. And you must know how desperately interested I am in the fate of my father. But I can make no promises yet ? not until I know what you say is true.'
Yuri stood, scraping the chair back across the concrete floor. 'That is all I can ask for. Come, let us see if the truck is ready. I will take you as close as we can get to the Chinese facility, and you can see that part for yourself. Then we will arrange transportation so that you may return to your carrier. After that, I will rely on your word as a military officer. And on your sense of honor. Fair enough?'
I nodded and stood as well. 'Let's go.'
The two rickety old deuce-and-a-half diesel trucks made enough noise to warn everyone for one hundred miles that we were approaching. Or at least I thought so ? evidently Yuri and his officers had a different opinion. They explained that the jungle muffled sounds, and that we could actually approach to within five miles of the camp without being detected. I doubted it, but kept my reservations to myself.
Too many unbelievable things had happened in the last week for me to start questioning Providence now.
The road was a one-lane rutted path through the jungle, occasionally blocked by fallen trees or other debris. We moved by starts and fits, stopping to clear the path and drag away dead carcasses when we couldn't go around them. After four hours, every bone in my body ached from the continual jolting. Evidently maintaining shock absorbers was not a priority in Ukrainian maintenance practices.
At the indicated point, the driver pulled to a stop, then maneuvered the truck into deep cover. The silence, after so many hours of angry, sputtering diesel noise, was almost overwhelming.
We each took a pack, a small one this time. I noted that the Ukrainians had no compunctions about having their officers carry their own gear, so I shouldered mine myself without comment. It contained a few days' field rations, some water, and a poncho and blanket.
'You know about the jungle now,' Yuri said. He gazed thoughtfully at the expanse of trees and undergrowth around us. 'It can be your friend ? or your enemy. Stay in the middle, and follow the man in front of you. I have assigned him responsibility for your safekeeping.'
I looked at the man he indicated, and saw a broad, Slavic face, high cheekbones topping a surprisingly full mouth, and thin-lidded Asiatic eyes. His hair was coarse, dark, and straight, the same shade as his eyes. A scar disfigured his right cheek.
'He is a Cossack,' Yuri continued. 'If anybody can keep you alive in rough terrain, it is he.'
The Cossacks ? I knew how much influence they'd gained inside the Ukrainian military establishment, and how instrumental they'd been in Russia's rise to power over the Soviet Union. Ukrainians, and in particular Cossacks, had always made up a large portion of the higher echelons of Soviet command, disproportionately so. If they had all returned to Ukraine following the dissolution, I suspected that Russia had another motive in tasking Ukraine with dissolving this problem. Simply put, the Cossacks were one of the most warlike and capable military forces anywhere around.
I could feel the Cossack studying me as well, and wondered what he was thinking. What did he see? A sunburned American, already looking ungainly and out of place in the jungle? Or a new ally, one that he would protect at all costs?
It made no difference, I finally decided. In the long run, we would either make it or we wouldn't. A new fatalism had settled over me since my visit to my father's prison camp.
'We go,' Yuri said. He motioned to one grizzled veteran, who took point. We moved off in single file through the brush, making entirely too much noise at first, but then settled into quiet, almost silent progress through the trees.
I watched the man in front of me, marveling at how quietly and quickly he moved. He seemed to anticipate
