Paterson, October 30th, 2000
"Bastard." The curse carries clearly across the train yard as the German LT exits our temporary comms shack. "Mother lover, whore's son, bastard." Leo's frustrated.
I nod at my German friend, Schmidt, Schultz, S-something. Damn, too many faces and names, we're only optimized for a hundred or so. Thank you college psych. "Sounds upset. Any progress on your end?"
"Some, Captain," he frowns, "They're to the south or the north. I've got enough to establish a line. He needs to talk more so we can triangulate. He keeps asking for you by name."
"So I'm famous. Get your gear spread out. I'll get him talking in twenty minutes."
"Ja, wohl!" He jogs off shouting orders to his subordinates. We've had good luck adding them to the team.
Leo's run out of English and moved right into the mother tongue as I enter the shack. He points at a seat as I close the door. "This is bad, Kapitan. They address me as sergeant, they refuse to talk with Major Emowitz, and they ask for you by name. They know too much."
"We've been larger than life these past few months. Take it as a compliment, we have a rep."
"I hope is all we have. Maybe we have mole."
Maybe we do.
I let Leo get back to creative ranting. I know I can trust my team. There's others who've been with us long enough to know are solid as well; Aaron, Jana, everyone Gunny counted on, George, even Rataj. We're left with Emowitz' crew, some of the other men, maybe someone off the boat. Karl might have sold info or Tadeuz to support his drinking habit. Hell, Stark, maybe for stealing his man and turning from his direction. George said he'd been unstable. F-ton of suspects.
Enough going round circles. No telling who it was. Time to talk to someone who knows. "Captain Paterson here, over."
"Captain Paterson here, over."
The radio crackles with an incoming transmission. He sounds pleased, smug, whore's son bastard. "Captain Paterson, I am pleased to speak with you. I am Major Nikolia Volkhov, Soviet Army, over."
"Get on with it, over."
"Very well. I understand you wish to leave Poland. I wish you a speedy departure. I am prepared to return your men and open your route out after you return the device and the research reports, over."
"What device, what reports? All I know is you have the people we need to leave. You're nothing but a kidnapper and extortionist. If you know me, you know how I deal with marauders and criminals, over."
"Let us not be like this Captain. I greatly admire the work you have already done for the betterment of Poland. You've cleared the Vistula of undesirables and broken the back of a fledgling warlord. All good works that will speed the recovery of this brave country. You are to be applauded for setting to rights the work of your government. However, I know you bear an item belonging to the Polish people, over."
"I still don't have the faintest idea, over."
"No, Captain, you do. It was a clever double shuffle with the stolen ORMO OT-64. The KGB took the bait. I imagine they are still trying to track it down. But we know better. You have it, the box that makes electricity and the notes on how to build more. I will trade the engineer, his son, the soldier, and your rail crew for the box and the notes. Otherwise, we'll wait. Nothing matters to you know except the approaching date. I can wait two weeks, over."
"Who the fuck told you!" I roar into the mike. "Stark put you up to this! This is because of the fucking helicopter. You can tell him to shove it up his ass!"
I wink at Leo. Watch the blood return to his face. Wait a set of heartbeats. Softly into the mike, "Two conditions, over."
"Your bargaining position is not strong. Tell me, over."
"One, I need to hear the from the men you're holding. I need to verify their identity with Martens before we trade, over."
"Agreed. The second, over."
"We do this trade in daylight. I want a big open area to prevent any double crosses, clear, over."
"Agreed. I will get your men so you may talk to them. I will contact you when they are ready, over and out."
"Leo, do a runner. I need Ed, Alpha, and Martens." He rabbits. I've bought some time. We need to gainfully employ it.
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"Ed, Alpha, I need you to build a box. Use a 3/4 full jerry can to give it some slosh. Put a truck battery linked to some sockets in the back. Make it work if you can, but get current to the plugs. Alpha help him out. When you're done booby trap the hell out of it. Use two sets of detonators, one of the russian ones you took from the train and one of ours. I want it to go either way. Now get."
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Martens does the talking for the next stretch. He plays his part well, asking for repeats from the prisoners claiming radio reception problems. Volkhov lets the engineer and his son talk at length. Andre, Marten's friend, gets to speak only a little. Now we know they have an ATGM. He got beaten down for his effort, but was able to talk again after the rail crew identified themselves and affirmed their health.
I, playing the role of overwhelmed and defeated, agree to meet two hours past dawn some ten kilometers down the river road to the east. They'll get their box and their notes. We'll get the hell home.
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"Lieutenant, do you have a fix?"
The German grins nastily. "Yes, Captain." He runs his fingers over the map. "Here, ten, eleven kilometers south of our position. Probably along the rail line, but the fix is general, give a radius of uncertainty, one kilometer."
"Thank you, dismissed." He leaves us. "Still game Leo?"
"Yes, I'll take Moon-man. Scout them out. If they're small we'll take them down. Otherwise I'll come back."
"Do you want more men?"
"No, just us. If there were enough to make a difference we'd get spotted. Best to keep it small."
"Let me know before you head out. I've got a report to make up." See how much I can change in one of our copies. It has to look good and make nothing. Wish I was going.
Leonid, October 30th, 2000
Long walk in cold night. Their camp is small. One UAZ with PK mounted. A single ten-man tent. Thermal says they're piled high in there. Could be ten to fifteen. The sources bleed into one another. No sentries. Are they that confident or that undermanned?
The two of us make a slow circuit. No changes. We could walk right in. Something's not right. I can see it in Moon-man's face too before the crack of a rifle rips it away.
I drop into a fold in the ground. A single shot passes through where I'd been. SVD. Moon-man, also down, pulls the shattered night vision goggles from his face. "Fucker, I've had there for three years!"
"Stay down, popping smoke." I flip the grenade out beside our position. The cloud blanket's us. I shift position before exposing myself. The thermal cuts through the smoke. Hope they don't have one as well.
I make a sweep. Odd, the tent hasn't shifted. But there, to the south, two blobs, head and shoulders, maybe. No others visible in all 360 degrees. No shots either. Good they can't see.
I sight in on who I think is their sniper. They start to move, pulling back as I stroke the trigger. The gun man jerks. The spotter slides smoothly out of sight.
"Come on!" I bellow to Moonie. My rifle trained on the nest we charge out of the smoke. We're halfway there when we hear the distant thunk-thunk-thunk from the south east of an automatic grenade launcher. Dropping down we feel the impacts through air and earth. Back up and move, Moonie in hand, at a tangent to the west.
The rounds spiral out from their impact point near the smoke cloud. Whoever it is is not worried about husbanding rounds. Bet they had the tent rigged too. Time to leave.
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Safe at camp, report made, end note. "The camp never moved while we extracted. If we went their during light, I'd bet you a bottle of vodka we'd find craters from where they zeroed the AGL on the whole site."
Paterson nods tiredly, "Get some sleep, I need you to be in position at the trade site before dawn."
She's back into her notebook before I leave, editing and pruning
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