"Are you a German agent? Haven't you seen what's going on there?" "It was an air attack, wasn't it?"

"There are American tanks in Alfeld, you idiot. We must launch a counterattack, but one battalion isn't enough. We-" The first explosions started, six kilometers away. "Major, I want one of two things. Either you give me transport right now or you give me your name and service number so that I can denounce you properly."

The two KGB officers shared a look of incredulity. Nobody talked that way to them, but anyone who did... Sergetov got his vehicle and raced off. Half an hour later he was in the supply base at Holle. There he found a radio.

"Where are you, Major?" Alekseyev demanded.

"Holle. The Americans got through our lines. They have at least one battalion of tanks at Alfeld."

"What?" The radio was silent for a moment. "Are you certain?"

"Comrade General, I had to swim the damned river to get here. I counted a column of twenty-five armored vehicles a few kilometers north of the town. They shot up the tank-repair station and massacred a column of trucks. I repeat, General, there is an American force at Alfeld in at least battalion strength."

"Get transport to Stendal and report personally to Commander-in-Chief West."

USS INDEPENDENCE

"Good evening, Major Chapayev. How's the leg?" Toland asked, sitting down beside the hospital bunk. "Are you being treated properly.?"

"I have no complaints. Your Russian is-fair."

"I do not often get to practice with a Soviet citizen. Perhaps you can help me somewhat." Major Alexandr Georgiveyich Chapayev, the computer printout read. Age 30. Second son of General Georgiy Konstantinovich Chapayev, commander of the Moscow Air Defense District. Married to the youngest daughter of a Central Committee member, Ilya Nikolayevich Govorov. And therefore probably a young man with access to lots of under-the-counter information...

"With your grammar?" Chapayev snorted.

"You were the commander of the MiGs? Be at ease, Major, they're all finished now. You know that."

"I was the senior flying officer, yes."

"I've been told to compliment you. I am not a flyer myself, but they tell me your tactics over Keflavik were excellent. I believe you had five MiGs. We lost a total of seven aircraft yesterday, three to MiGs, two to missiles, and two to ground fire. Considering the odds, we were disagreeably surprised."

"I had my duty."

"Da. We all have our duty," Toland agreed. "If you are concerned at how we will treat you, you should not be. You will be treated properly in all respects. I don't know what you have been told to expect, but probably you have noticed once or twice that not everything the Party says is completely true. I see from your identification papers that you have a wife and two children. I have a family, too. We'll both live to see them again, Major. Well, probably."

"And when our bombers attack you?'

"That happened three hours ago. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"Ha! The first time-"

"I was on Nimitz We took two hits." Toland described the attack briefly. "This time things worked out differently. We're conducting rescue operations now. You'll know for sure when we bring some survivors in. Your air force is no longer a threat to us. Submarines are another matter, but there is no sense asking a fighter pilot about that. In fact, this isn't really an interrogation."

"So why are you here?"

"I will be asking you some questions later. I just wanted to come down and say hello. Is there anything I can get you, anything you need?"

Chapayev did not know what to make of this. Aside from the possibility the Americans would shoot him outright, he didn't know what to expect. He'd had the usual lectures about trying to escape, but clearly these did not apply to being aboard a ship in the middle of the ocean.

"I do not believe you," he said finally.

"Comrade Major, there is no point in asking you about the MiG-29, because none are left on Iceland. All the others in the Soviet Air Force are in Central Europe, but we're not going there. There is no point in asking you about ground-defense positions on Iceland; you're a pilot and you don't know anything about that. The same is true of the remaining threat against us: submarines. What do you know about submarines, eh? Think, Major, you are an educated man. Do you think you have information that we need? I doubt it. You will be exchanged in due course for our prisoners-a political question, for our political masters. Until then we will treat you properly." Toland paused. Talk to me, Major...

"I'm hungry," Chapayev said after a moment.

"Dinner should be in about thirty minutes."

"You will just send me home, after-"

"We don't have labor camps and we don't kill prisoners. If we were going to mistreat you, why did the surgeon sew up your leg and prescribe pain medications?"

"The pictures I had with me?"

"Almost forgot." Toland handed the Russian's wallet over. "Isn't it against the rules to take this up with you?"

"I carry it for luck," he said. Chapayev pulled out the black-and-white shot of his wife and twin daughters. I will see you again It may be some months, but I will see you again.

Bob chuckled. "It worked, Comrade Major. Here are mine."

"Your wife is too skinny, but you are a lucky man also." Chapayev paused as his eyes teared up for a moment. He blinked them away. "I would like a drink," he said hopefully.

"Me, too. Not allowed on our ships." He looked at the photos. "Your daughters are beautiful, Major. You know, we have to be crazy to leave them."

"We have our duty," Chapayev said. Toland gestured angrily.

"It's the damned politicians. They just tell us to go-and we go, like idiots! Hell, we don't even know why the Goddamned war started!"

"You mean you do not know?"

Bingo. Codeine and sympathy... The tape recorder he had in his pocket was already turned on.

HUNZEN, FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF GERMANY

"If I continue the attack, we'll be destroyed here!" Alekseyev protested. "I have two full divisions on my flank, and I have a report that American tanks are at Alfeld."

"Impossible!" CINC-West replied angrily.

"The report came from Major Sergetov. He saw them arrive. I have ordered him to Stendal to make his report to you personally."

"I have 26th Motor-Rifle approaching Alfeld now. If any Americans are present, they'll handle matters."

That's a Category-C unit, Alekseyev thought. Reservists, short on equipment, out-of-date training.

"What progress have you made on the crossing?"

"Two regiments across, a third moving now. Enemy air activity has picked up-dammit! I have enemy units in my rear!"

"Get back to Stendal, Pasha. Beregovoy is in command at Hunzen. I need you here."

I'm being relieved. I'm being relieved of my command!

"Understood, Comrade General," Alekseyev replied. He switched off the radio. Can I leave my troops this vulnerable to counterattack? Can I forego warning my commanders? Alekseyev slammed his fist on the worktable. "Get me General Beregovoy'!'