Red storm rising - By Tom Clancy Page 0,332

know. It is possible that their plan might start something that no one could stop. If we die, we die in a good cause."

"How do we stop them?"

"When does the Politburo meet?"

"Every day now. We usually meet at nine-thirty."

"Whom can we trust?"

"Kosov is with us. There will be a few others, Politburo members, but I do not know whom I can approach."

Wonderful--our only certain ally is the KGB!

"I need some time."

"Perhaps this will help." Sergetov handed over a file he'd gotten from Kosov. "Here is a list of officers in your command who are suspected of political unreliability."

Alekseyev scanned the list. He recognized the names of three men who had served with distinction in battalion and regimental commands ... one good staff officer and one terrible one. Even when my men fight a war for the Motherland, they are under suspicion!

"I'm supposed to formulate my attack plan before I return to the front. I will be at Army Headquarters."

"Good luck, Pavel Lconidovich."

"And to you, Mikhail Eduardovich." The General watched father and son embrace. He wondered what his own father would think of this. To whom do I turn for guidance?

KEFLAVIK, ICELAND

"Good afternoon, I am Major General William Emerson. This is Colonel Lowe. He will act as interpreter."

"General Major Andreyev. I speak English."

"Do you propose a surrender?" Emerson asked.

"I propose that we negotiate," Andreyev answered.

"I require that your forces cease hostilities at once and surrender their weapons."

"And what will become of my troops?"

"They will be interned as prisoners of war. Your wounded will receive proper medical attention and your men will be treated in accordance with the usual international conventions."

"How do I know you speak truly?"

"You do not."

Andreyev noted the blunt, honest answer. But what choice do I have?

"I propose a cease-fire"--he checked his watch--"at fifteen hours."

"Agreed."

BRUSSELS, BELGIUM

"How long?" SACEUR asked.

"Three days. We'll be able to attack with four divisions."

What's left of four divisions, SACEUR thought. We've stopped them, all right, but what do we have to drive them back with?

They did have confidence. NATO had begun the war with an advantage only in its technology, which was even more pronounced now. The Russian stocks of new tanks and guns had been ravaged, and the divisions coming into the line now had twenty-year-old castoffs. They still had numbers, though, and any offensive SACEUR planned would have to be carefully planned and executed. Only in the air did he have an important advantage, and air power had never won a war. The Germans were pushing hard for a counterstrike. Too much of their land, and too many of their citizens, were on the wrong side of the line. Already the Bundeswehr was probing aggressively on several fronts, but they'd have to wait. The German Army was not strong enough to push forward alone. They'd taken too many losses in their prime role of stopping the Soviet advance.

KAZAN, R.S.F.S.R.

The youngsters were too excited to sleep. The older men were too worried to sleep. Conditions didn't help. The men of the 77th Motor-Rifle Division were crammed into passenger cars, and while all had seats, it was at the cost of rubbing against their comrades even as they breathed. The troop trains moved along at a speed of a hundred kilometers per hour. The tracks were set in the Russian way, with the rail segments ending together instead of offset; so, instead of the clickity-click familiar to Western riders, the men of this C division heard only a series of thuds. It tested nerves already raw.

The interval between the jarring sounds slowed. A few soldiers looked out to see that their train was stopping at Kazan. The officers were surprised. They weren't supposed to stop until they got to Moscow. The mystery was soon solved. No sooner had the twenty-car train stopped than new men filed into the carriages.

"Attention," called one loud voice. "Combat soldiers arriving!"

Though they had been issued new uniforms, their boots showed the weeks of abuse. Their swagger marked them as veterans. About twenty got onto each passenger car, and rapidly secured comfortable seating for themselves. Those displaced would have to stand. There were officers, too, and they found their counterparts. The officers of the 77th began to get firsthand information of NATO doctrine and tactics, what worked and what didn't work, all the lessons paid for in blood by the soldiers who did not join the division at Kazan. The enlisted men got no such lessons. They watched men who were able to sleep even as they rode to the fighting