Contents ( 55)
- In Memoriam
- Epigraph
- Cast of Characters
- Americans
- Russians
- Canadian
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Weapons and Acronyms
- Weapons
- Acronyms
- About the Author
- Also by Dale Brown
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
One by one, the somber-faced Army brigadiers and Air Force colonel took their own leave and walked out of the room, leaving Flynn and the Air Force major general behind. From start to finish, not one of them had said a word.
Of course not, Flynn thought bitterly. They’d all made up their minds on how this was going to end before I even got here. Why waste time and breath pretending this whole proceeding was anything but window dressing for a predetermined outcome? And pretty shoddy window dressing, at that?
“I’m sorry about this, son,” the general said at last, breaking an awkward silence. He stood up. “Really, I am.” He shook his head. “Look, I know this isn’t much consolation, but incoming rounds don’t care whose side you’re on, or whether your intentions were smart or stupid. Think of this as some random bullet that just happened to have your name on it. That may not be fair, but it’s reality. So take your medicine. Do the job we’re assigning you. And for God’s sake, don’t rock the boat or shoot your mouth off again. Then, in a year or two, when this has all blown over, we’ll let you resign your commission and start over again in the civilian world. And I can guarantee that a lot of corporate doors will be open to a young man like you with an honorable discharge.”
Flynn ignored that unsubtly dangled carrot. Instead, carefully controlling his voice to hide his anger, he simply asked, “So where am I being exiled to . . . sir?”
The general didn’t hesitate. “One of the North Warning System’s long-range radar sites. At Kaktovik, Alaska.”
“I’m not exactly qualified to manage radar systems,” Flynn pointed out bluntly.
“We know that, Captain,” the general agreed. He shrugged. “The North Warning System is largely automated anyway, with any necessary maintenance or upkeep handled by civilian contractors.”
Flynn frowned. Then what the hell was he being sent to do? Play poker with bored civilian radar technicians?
“Congress has been bitching about potential security threats to our early-warning air defense radars,” the general explained. “They’re worried about possible Russian commando raids or sabotage. So we’ve agreed to explore the formation of small Joint Force security teams for these sites.”
“And that’s where I come in,” Flynn guessed flatly.
The general nodded. “That’s where you come in. We’re putting you in command of the first experimental Joint Force security detail.”
Christ, Flynn thought bleakly, they were assigning him to glorified sentry duty at a post well above the Arctic Circle. He shivered inside. If they’d tried for a thousand years, these bastards couldn’t have picked a better place to punish him for the crime of making the CIA’s covert ops gurus look like fools. For a Texas boy who’d grown up seeing snow only on occasional ski trips, the thought of Alaska’s subzero winter temperatures and endless dark nights was downright hellish.
Four
Bekhterev Private Clinic, Moscow, Russia
Early October