The Oracle Code - By Charles Brokaw Page 0,61

just how it is.”

“I know that. But if I asked you to do this thing, and you did, there would be a piece of you that forever wondered if you could find whatever it is these people are looking for.”

“The tomb of Alexander the Great, for whatever reason they want it.”

She nodded. “Exactly.” She took a breath and let it out. “I will not ask you to do that then. I ask only that you be careful.”

“I will.” Lourds’s heart sang.

“I am going to hold you to that.” Layla stood on tiptoe and kissed Lourds, pressing her body full-length against his. Then she turned and led him to the bath.

27

Russian Army FOB (Forward Operating Base)

Command Center

Moscow, Russian Federation

February 15, 2013

Cherkshan stood in front of the map with the projected troop movements of the invasion force he was sending into the Ukraine tomorrow. If all went well, and he expected that it would, the Russian army would occupy a strategic position inside Krasnodon, one of the major cities in the Luhansk Oblast across the Ukrainian border. From there, they would move steadily across the country to take Kiev over the next few days.

He expected to have no more trouble taking Ukraine than the Americans had in taking Iraq either time they had invaded that country. What would be interesting to see would be the reaction from the rest of the world.

The general’s stomach churned as he looked at the map and the magnetic markers that represented the T-90 main battle tanks and armored divisions he was going to use to invade the Ukraine. No matter how easy the task ended up being, he was sending young men out to die. He had seen many of them killed in the unrest in Chechnya. It stuck with a man, especially a commander.

For months, the Russian army had been running maneuvers in the area just across the Ukrainian border. Enough so that the Ukrainian military border surveillance teams had grown lax in their observation. They hadn’t noticed that the Russian tanks they saw every day were different tanks, not the same ones they had seen before. The buildup of cavalry units had taken months as well.

There, in the nearby forests, the Russian army had built up units hidden beneath camouflaged netting. Planes had likewise been brought in to nearby military airfields and would be deployed to fly close-in support for the ground units and the army.

Everything was prepared.

In the morning, the Ukraine—and the rest of the world—would be greatly surprised, and people would die. But if Cherkshan had done his job properly, not as many people would die.

The trick was to achieve an early psychological victory by sending a mass of heavy armor in and supporting it with air strike teams to keep the Ukrainian people from being foolish. They had to be shown that resistance was futile, or they would get bloody.

Cherkshan intended to cut the number of losses, and he was depending on the people within the Ukraine who wanted a true leader and a true direction again. Nevsky hadn’t had to sell him on that part of the sales pitch. Cherkshan knew there were dissatisfied people in the Ukraine as well. Their own government had robbed them blind, left them nearly destitute. All he had to do was provide a reason for them to help bring their country back into the Russian fold.

It will happen. First the Ukraine will fall. Then we go after Greece.

Cherkshan’s phone rang. He took it from his pocket, expecting it to be Nevsky wanting to discuss some almost-forgotten detail of the campaign. Instead, it was Katrina, his wife.

“Hello. How are you, my dear?”

“I am well. I am wishing you were home instead of staying wherever it is you’re staying. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Our daughter called.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.”

Cherkshan was slightly troubled by the announcement. He would have liked to have heard Anna’s voice for himself. When she’d hung up on him yesterday, he had spent hours worrying over her till she contacted her mother. He’d continued watching the news of the terrorist attack on the Afghanistan dig site. It was the first time Anna had ever been in such dangerous circumstances.

But that silence and refusal to communicate was the way it was between them. The incredible void between them refused to be crossed. He looked at the map again.

I can take the Ukraine in a matter of hours, but I have lost the ability to speak to my daughter.

“Where is she, Katrina?”

“In Kandahar.” His wife took

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