meters to his right, and he ran there as fast as he could.
Mortar rounds were falling, he saw. They were falling on the big new machine shop just beyond the barracks. Men were stumbling out the door of the latter when he arrived, and he had to stop and hold up his arms to avoid being shot. "I am Colonel Bondarenko! Where is your officer?"
"Here!" A lieutenant came out. "What-" Someone had just learned of his mistake. The next mortar round hit the back of the barracks.
"Follow me!" Bondarenko screamed, leading them away from the most obvious target in sight. All around them was the deadly chatter of rifles-Soviet rifles; the Colonel noted at once that he couldn't use sound to identify who was who. Wonderful! "Form up!"
"What is-"
"We're under attack, Lieutenant! How many men do you have?"
He turned and counted. Bondarenko did it faster still. There were forty-one, all with rifles, but there were no heavy weapons, and no radios. The machine guns he could do without, but radios were vital.
The dogs, he told himself stupidly, they should have kept the dogs
The tactical situation was appallingly bad, and he knew that it would only get worse. A series of explosions sundered the night.
"The lasers, we must-" the Lieutenant said, but the Colonel grabbed his shoulder.
"We can rebuild the machines," Bondarenko said urgently, "but we cannot rebuild the scientists. We're going to get to the apartment building and hold that until relieved. Send a good sergeant to the bachelor quarters and get them to the apartments."
"No, Comrade Colonel! My orders are to protect the lasers, and I must-"
"I am ordering you to get your men-"
"No!" the Lieutenant screamed back at him.
Bondarenko knocked him down, took his rifle, flipped off the safety, and fired two rounds into his chest. He turned. "Who's the best sergeant?"
"I am, Colonel," a young man said shakily.
"I am Colonel Bondarenko, and I am in command!" the officer announced as forcefully as a command from God. "You take four men, get to the bachelor barracks, and bring everyone up the hill to the apartment building. Fast as you can!" The sergeant pointed to four others and ran off. "The rest of you, follow me!" He led them into the falling snow. There wasn't time for him or them to wonder what awaited. Before they'd gone ten meters, every light in the camp went out.
At the gate of the laser site a GAZ jeep sat, with a heavy machine gun aboard. General Pokryshkin ran from the control building when he heard the explosions, and was stunned to see that only blazing stumps remained of his three guard towers. The commander of the KGB detachment raced down to him on his vehicle.
"We're under attack," the officer said unnecessarily, "Get your men together-right here." Pokryshkin looked up to see running men. They were dressed in Soviet uniforms, but somehow he knew that they were not Russians. The General climbed into the back of the jeep and brought the machine gun around over the head of the astonished KGB officer. The first time he pressed the trigger nothing happened, and he had to ratchet a round into the chamber. The second time, Pokryshkin had the satisfaction of watching three men fall. The guard force commander needed no further encouragement. He barked rapid orders into his radio. The battle under way degenerated at once into confusion, as it had to- both sides were wearing identical uniforms and using identical weapons. But there were more Afghans than Russians.
Morozov and several of his unmarried friends had stepped outside when they heard the noise. Most of them had military experience, though he did not. It didn't matter-nobody had the first idea what they should do. Five men came running out of the darkness. They were wearing uniforms and carrying rifles.
"Come! All of you come, follow us!" More weapons started firing close by, and two of the KGB troops went down, one dead, one wounded. He fired back, emptying his rifle in one long burst. There was a scream in the darkness, followed by shouts. Morozov ran inside and called for people to make for the door. The engineers needed little prompting.
"Up the hill," the sergeant said. "To the apartment block. Fast as you can!" The four KGB troops waved them along, looking for targets, but seeing only flashes. Bullets were flying everywhere now. Another of the troops went down screaming out his last breath, but the sergeant got the one who killed him. When the