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〃Okay； there's a gravel road downhill to the north； maybe two miles away。 Looks like a farm…plowed fields； like； but can't tell what's growing there。 Another sheep farm to the west of us； we passed it ing here。 Lots of sheep。 Ten minutes ago we saw a truck on the road heading west。 Haven't seen anything flying yet today； but I suppose that'll change。 The only civilians we've seen have been right by their houses； we haven't even seen farmers with their sheep； and the farm to the north has no visible activity。 No…say again zero…civilian road traffic。 Ivan's got this island shut down； Doghouse； really shut down。 That's about all I can say。 Tell those Vark drivers they really did the job on that powerhouse。 Nothing left but a hole in the ground。 We haven't seen an electric light lit since。〃
〃Copy that； Beagle。 Okay； your orders are to head north towards Hvammsfjordur。 You need to take a wide detour east to avoid all these bays I see。 We want you there in ten days。 Say again ten days； twelve at the most。 You can make it easy。 Stay out in the boonies and avoid contact with anyone。 Continue the normal contact schedule and report on anything you see that may be of interest。 Acknowledge。〃
〃Roger； Doghouse； you want us in sight of Hvammsfjordur at the end of next week； and keep up the usual radio routine。 Anything else？〃
〃Be careful。 Out。〃
〃Hvammsfjordur？〃 Smith asked… 〃That's a hundred miles on a straight line。〃
〃They want us to detour east to avoid contact。〃
〃Two hundred mileswalking over this shit。〃 Smith's frown was enough to split a rock。 〃End of next week？ Ten or eleven days？〃
Edwards nodded dumbly。 He hadn't known it would be that far。
〃Gonna be a little tough； Mr。 Edwards。〃 The sergeant pulled a largescale map from his case。 〃I don't even have cards for the whole coastline。 Damn。 Look here； Lieutenant。 The ridges and rivers on this rock e out from the center like the spokes on a wheel； y'see？ That means we climb a lot； and these here ain't little hills。 All the low places got roads； and sure as hell we can't follow no roads； right？〃 He shook his head。
Edwards forced a grin。 〃Can't hack it？ I thought you Marines were in good shape。〃
Smith was a man who ran five miles every morning。 He could not recall ever seeing this little Air Force wimp out doing roadwork。 〃Okay； Mr。 Edwards。 They say nobody ever drowned in sweat。 On your feet； Marines； we got orders for a little hike。〃 Rodgers and Garcia exchanged a look。 〃Mister〃 was not exactly a term of endearment for an officer； but Smith figured that insubordination only counted if the officer knew he was being insulted。
KEFLAVIK； ICELAND
The helicopters took time to assemble。 The big AN…22 transport had delivered two Mi…24 attack choppers； quite a load even for that four…engine monster。 Another IL…76 flight had delivered the technicians and flight crews to assemble； service； and fly them。 There had been a major oversight in the plan； the General thought。 The one helicopter that had survived the strafing attack on the first day was now broken down…and of course the broken part was not one which had been included in their pre…packaged equipment。 There should have been more helicopters。 He shrugged eloquently。 No plan was ever perfect。 More helicopters would be flown in； plus a few more mobile radar sets and some additional SAM launchers。 The Americans looked to have every intention of making his tenure on Iceland difficult； and he needed more equipment to counter that 。 。 。
Then there were those KGB bastards。 We have to pacify the island； they said。 As if Iceland wasn't already passive enough。 There had been not a single incident of active resistance yet…not one； the General thought； remembering his year's service in Afghanistan。 pared with that mountainous hell； this was paradise itself。 But that wasn't good enough for the KGB！ Nekulturny barbarians。 A thousand hostages had been taken； only to learn that there was no jail space to keep them。 So my paratroopers must guard the poor； harmless wretches； using up a whole pany of troops； His orders were to cooperate with the local KGB contingent。 One did not cooperate with the KGB； of course； one was dominated by them。 There were KGB officers with his mobile patrols； to advise； they put it。
General Andreyev was beginning to worry。 Crack paratroopers were not the sort to be good jailers。 Had they been ordered to go easily on the Icelanders； that would be one thing。 Instead； their orders forced them to be harsh； which generated hostility。 Some people had actually been heard to cheer when the last American bombers had e through。 Absurd； the General thought。 They had lost electricity but we had lost nothing…and they cheered。 Because of the KGB's orders。 What stupidity。 An opportunity lost。 He considered protesting his orders to his central mand in Moscow； but to what point？ An officer who disliked the KGB was an officer who disliked the Party itself。
He was aroused from his reveries by the whining sound of turboshaft engines。 The first of the Mi…24 Hinds was turning its rotor； testing its engines。 An officer ran toward him。
〃rade General； with your permission； we are ready for a test flight。 We're doing it light； unarmed。 We'll load weapons when we get back。〃
〃Very well。 Captain； just check out the hilltops around Keflavik and Reykjavik。 How long on the second one？〃 Andreyev asked。
〃Two hours。〃
〃Excellent。 Good work； rade Captain。〃
A minute later the heavy attack chopper lifted into the air。
〃Down and freeze！〃 Garcia screamed。 It didn't e close to them； but seeing it was enough。
〃What kind is it？〃
〃Hind。 It's an attack bird； like the Cobra。 Bad news； Lieutenant。 It carries eight troops and a whole shitload of rockets and guns。 An' don't even think about shooting it。 Sucker's armored like a damned tank。〃
The Mi…24 circled the hill they'd just been on； then disappeared； heading south to loop over another hill。
〃Didn't see us； I guess；〃 Edwards said。
〃Let's keep it that way。 Keep the radio stowed awhile； Lieutenant。 We can call this one in after we move out a ways； okay？〃
Edwards nodded agreement。 He remembered a brief on Soviet helicopters in the Air Force Academy。 〃We are not afraid of the Russians；〃 an Afghan had been quoted； 〃but we are afraid of their helicopters。〃
BITBURG； FEDERAL REPUBLIC OF GERMANY
Colonel Ellington awoke at six that evening。 He shaved and walked outside； the sun still high in the evening sky。 He wondered what mission they'd have tonight。 He was not a bitter man； but to have nearly a quarter of his crews…men with whom he had worked for two straight years …lost in a week was a difficult thing to accept。 It had been too long since his experience in Vietnam。 He'd forgotten how terrible losses could be。 His men could not stand down a day to mourn their dead and ease the pain； much as they needed to。 They were being carefully rested。 Standing orders gave them eight hours of sleep a day…like night…hunters； they slept only by day。
They were making a difference； however。 He was sure of that。 Every night the black and green Frisbees lifted off for some special target or other； and the Russians still had not figured a counter。 The strike cameras mounted in each aircraft were bringing back pictures that the wing intelligence officers could scarcely believe。 But at such a cost。
Well。 The colonel reminded himself that one sortie a day was a lighter load than the other air crews were bearing； and that the close…support crews were taking losses equal to his own。 Tonight held another mission。 He ordered his brain to occupy itself with that task alone。
The briefings took an hour。 Ten aircraft would fly tonight： two planes each at five targets。 As mander he drew the toughest。 Surveillance indicated that Ivan had a previously unsuspected forward fuel dump at a position west of Wittenburg that was supporting the drive on Hamburg； and the Germans wanted it taken out。 His wingman would go in with Durandals； and he'd follow with Rockeyes。 There would be no supporting aircraft on this one； and the colonel didn't want jammer aircraft to go in with him。 Two of his lost birds had had such support； and the jamming had merely alerted the defenses。
He examined the topographical maps closely。 The land was flat。 Not much in the way of mountains and hills to hide behind； but then he could skim at treetop level； and that was almost as good。 He'd approach from the east； behind the target。 There was a twenty…knot west wind； and if he came in from leeward； the defenders would be unable to hear his approach until bomb release 。 。 。 probably。 They'd egress the area by heading southwest。 Total mission time seventy…five minutes。 He puted his necessary fuel load； careful as always to allow for the drag of his bombs。 To the bare…bones fuel requirements he added five minutes on afterburner in case of air…to…air bat and ten minutes to orbit Bitburg for landing。 Satisfied； he went off for breakfast。 With each bite of toast his mind ran through the mission like a movie； visualizing every event； every obstacle； every SAM site to be avoided。 He randomly inserted the unexpected。 A flight of low…level fighters at the target； what effect would this have on the mission？ What would the target look like on this approach？ If he had to make a second bombing pass； from what direction？ Major Eisly ate with his mander in silence； recognizing the blank look on his face and running through his own mental checklist。
They headed straight into East Germany for fifty miles before turning north at Rathenow。 Two Soviet Mainstay aircraft were up； a good distance back from the border and surrounded by agile Flanker interceptors。 Staying well outside the effective range of their radar； the two aircraft flew low and in tight formation。 When they screeched over main roads； it was always in a direction away from a course to their target They avoided cities； towns； and known enemy depots where there might be SAMs。
The inertial navigation systems kept track of their progress on a map display on the pilot's instrument panel。 The distance to the target shrank rapidly as the aircraft curved west。
They flashed over Wittenberg at five hundred knots。 The infrared cameras showed fueling vehicles on the roads heading right for the target area 。 。 。 there！ At least twenty tank trucks were visible in the trees fueling from underground tanks。
〃Target in sight。 Execute according to plan。〃
〃Roge；〃 acknowledged Shade…Two。 〃I have them visual。〃
The Duke broke left； clearing the way for his wingman to make the first run。 Shade…Two's aircraft was the only one left with the proper ejector racks for the bulky hard…target munitions。
〃Gawd！〃 The Duke's display showed an SA…11 launcher right in his flight path； its missiles aimed northwest。 One of his aircraft had learned the hard way that the SA…11 had an infrared homing capacity that no one had suspected。 The colonel reefed his aircraft into a hard right turn away from the launcher； wondering where the rest of the missile battery's vehicles were。
Shade…Two skimmed over the target。 The pilot toggled off his four bombs and kept heading west。 Gunfire rippled across the sky in his wake。 Too late。
The French…made Durandal weapons fell off the ejector racks and scattered。 Once free； they pointed down； and rockets fired to accelerate the munitions straight at the ground。 They were designed to break up concrete runways and were ideal for underground fuel tanks。 The bombs did not explode on impact。 Instead； the hard…steel weapons lanced into the ground； penetrating several feet before detonating。 Three found underground fuel tanks。 The Durandals； exploded upward； breaking open a path for burning fuel to leap into the air。
It was the next thing to a nuclear detonation。 Three white columns of flame rocketed into the air； spreading like fountains and dropping fuel for hundreds of yards。 Every vehicle in the pound was engulfed in flame； and only those men near the perimeter escaped with their lives。 Rubber fuel bladders brought to the sight exploded a few seconds later； and a river of burning diesel and gasoline spread through the trees。 In a matter of seconds； twenty acres of woods were transformed into a fireball that raced skyward； punctuated by secondary explosions。 Ellington's fighter rocked violently as the shock wave passed。
〃Damn；〃 he said quietly。