Cold War

Chapter 20

Sergeant Yashin stood by impassively, listening as Lieutenant Ligacheva argued with her superior. The two of them were alone in the cramped little radio room, the lieutenant operating the equipment while Yashin watched the door.

”General, you don’t understand,” Ligacheva said desperately. “Yes, we have Sobchak’s map, we know where their base is-their ship, or whatever it is. But we can’t attack it yet-it’s impossible!”

”Nothing is impossible,” Ponomarenko replied.

”We’ve just arrived, sir,” Ligacheva insisted. “We haven’t even secured the Assyma complex, haven’t even cut down the bodies, let alone done any reconnaissance. We don’t know anything about what’s out there…”

”You do not need to know,” Ponomarenko interrupted. “Soldiers are often faced with the unknown, my dear. The arrival of these Americans necessitates an immediate attack-we must have firsthand information on whatever is out there before the site is further compromised. We have no way to be certain you have captured all the Americans.”

”General, if we go out there now, it may well be a repeat of what happened to my previous squad. I cannot accept the responsibility…”

Ponomarenko cut her off. “Is that your final word, Lieutenant?”

”I…” Ligacheva hesitated, then straightened up. “Yes, sir,” she said. “That’s my final word.”

”In that case, Lieutenant,” Ponomarenko said, “you may remain at the pumping station with the prisoners.” Ligacheva began to relax, then snapped to attention as the general continued, “Sergeant Yashin will lead the attack.”

”Sergeant Yashin?” Ligacheva turned and watched as a wolfish grin spread over Yashin’s face.

”Yes. Is he there?”

”Yes, he’s here, sir,” Ligacheva said slowly.

”You heard your orders, Sergeant?” Ponomarenko asked.

”Yes, sir,” Yashin replied happily.

”That will be all, then, Lieutenant.”

”Yes, sir,” Ligacheva said. She put down the microphone and stared at Yashin.

”You planned this, didn’t you?” she demanded.

”I thought an opportunity might arise,” Yashin said calmly, hands clasped behind his back. “I let the general know that he could put his faith in me.”

”Just in case he had any doubt of it,” Ligacheva said bitterly.

”Indeed,” Yashin said, rocking gently on his heels. “You may be content with your present rank and status, Lieutenant, but I am not-I have hopes for advancement. One can scarcely live on a sergeant’s pay these days, and they do not give commissioned rank to men who simply do as they’re told and show no initiative.”

”Your initiative may get you killed out there,” Ligacheva pointed out.

”I do not think it will,” Yashin sneered. “I am no mere woman, frightened of the cold and the dark and caught unawares. I will confront our enemy boldly, as you could not. While you’re here tending the Americans, let real soldiers take the field, Lieutenant-we’ll show you how it should be done, so we can finish this matter and return home to our warm beds, our women, and our drink.”

Ligacheva stared at her sergeant for a long moment.

Maybe, she thought, Yashin was right, even if he was a traitorous bastard. Maybe he and the other men were more than a match for their enemy. Maybe they would capture whatever was out in that canyon. She hoped so.

She didn’t believe it, though.

She believed that Yashin would lead them all to their deaths.

But there was nothing she could do about it. He had his orders, and his opinions-he wouldn’t listen to anything she had to say.

So she didn’t bother saying it. She turned away without another word and went to find the American, Schaefer-and the bottle of vodka that Galyshev had always kept put away in the cabinet in his office.