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find their way to us in a few days;
we don't have the troop strength to keep them out of the third chamber, or the
fourth. They're nasty individuals, Garry. Dedicated and well trained. The
longer we wait, the more they'll drain us."
"So we're at an impasse in the second chamber?" Lanier asked, his eyes
darting nervously to the maps.
"Everywhere. Nobody's going to move. The only thing progressing will be
casualty counts."
"Do you think they know that? I mean, will they acknowledge it to
themselves?"
"Having come all this way, with all the training that would require, I
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their COs aren't fools."
"What about the grunts?"
'."Like us, I doubt they have any grunts."
"How long before they start listening to reason?"
"He!I, Garry, they may be listening now. They're just not showing any sign.
We stick our heads up, they start shooting, and vice versa."
The sergeant stood before his superiors with a troubled expression.
His face was covered with scratches from crawling through undergrowth in the
patches of forest. He saluted and bowed in Mirsky's direction.
"Colonel, they have found our transponders in the bore holes. We cannot
communicate with any other chambers."
"Now I ask you," Mirsky said, "is that a sign they want to lay down their arms
and welcome the wolves into the sheep pen?" Garabedian took his binoculars
and surveyed the forests and fields between them ahd the bridge, a kilometer
away. He then looked at the shell-pocked, laser-scored bridge---marred but
still very much functional--and returned the glasses.
"Pavel," Garabedian said, "we should cut that bridge, don't you think?"
Mirsky looked at his deputy commander disapprovingly.
"And what other way do we have to cross? We can walk fifty kilometers or more
to the next bridge, or we can swim."
"Then they cannot cross, and they cannot get any more reinforcements from this
chamber" "No, but they can be reinforced from the first chamber. We have no
idea how many there are in there."
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"Yapped like pigs---" "We keep this bridge intact," Mirsky said.
"Besides, we can ill afford to lose more men on a desperation move. Or to
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lose them from snipers while we swim!"
"It was an idea," Garabedian said.
"I am not short on ideas, Viktor. I am short of laser cannon and artillery.
we can assume Zhiguli with all our artillery and supplies did not make it
through, and will not now, since they have obviously reinforced the bore holes
enough to find our transponders. We can assume our operative has been
captured and the Russian science team is ineffective, either by choice or
because they are in stockade. And we can also assume that our heavy-lifter
pilots and crew do not relish staying outside for weeks while we get ourselves
killed in here."
"What are you saying, Pavel? Be blunt." Garabedian smiled. With his
undershot jaw, he had always reminded Mirsky of a sturgeon.
"We are not getting the support we need."
"Do you believe the war has been fought on lost?"
Mirsky shook his head. "I believe we have taken out their orbital capability.
That would make quite a show from up hen--" "Pavel, they surely can tell the
difference between an orbital showdown and holocaust."
Mirsky clamped his jaw and shook his head stubbornly.
"We are here to fight and take an objective. There must be a reaSOn."
"Ask the Zampolits. We are here to spread Socialism and safeguard the future
of our State and our country."
"Shit," Mirsky said, surprised at his vehemence. He hated the
Zampolits. He had always hated all Zampolits wherever he had served.
As usual, the company's political officertMajor Belozersky--was in the rear,
issuing orders that sometimes conflicted with Mirsky's own.
"Yes, fine, they've cooked the Earth. So what are we to do, abandon the fight
and--what? Go home to ashes? This time, it would not be a little exercise in
the schoolyard between hero and bully. It would be a flaming rubber-stamp
skull and crossbones across the northern hemisphere!'' "That's what they're
saying has happened. Pletnev backs them up. Surely we couldn't expect to
take out their orbital defenses and have them kick their heels in the air and
scream for mercy."
"They are corrupt," Mirsky said. "Weak and fearful."
"Pavel, I do not like playing your Armenian voice of reality.
You, of all people, should face facts and their implications. Do not
underestimate the enemy. Do weak and decadent people march ahead of you in
almost every sphere?"
"Oh, shut up and let me babble,' Mirsky said, cradling his head between his
hands. He glanced up at the sergeant. "Get out of here," he said wearily.
"Bring me good news or none at all."
"Yes, sir," the sergeant said.
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"Pity we don't have any penal battalions to send on ahead to glorious
sacrifice," Garabedian said. "That's how we've won wars in the past."
"Don't let Belozersky hear you say that. I have enough trouble with himand
with you---as is. We keep the bridge intact," Mirsky said.
"That's final. And we make our move in the next hour."
There was no arguing with Mirsky when he used that tone of voice.
Garabedian paled slightly, then pulled out a stick of stale gum and inserted
Ibinto his mouth, savoring the sugar.
Mirsky's radio clicked softly. He keyed the receiver and acknowledged.
"Comrade Commander, this is Belozersky.
'Zev' wishes to speak with you . . . in person."
Mirsky swore and replied that he would be there immediately.
"More shambles, I think," he said to Garabedian.
Twenty-six hours into the stalemate, the results of the survey were brought
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into Gerhardt's makeshift command post. The lieutenant who had conducted the
survey, a thin-faced man with deep-set eyes, delivered his findings in an
Appalachian drawl.
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