“That isn’t exactly comforting, Captain,” Hynes said.

Flynn shrugged. “I didn’t mean it to be, PFC.” He looked around the crowded dining area. “Anyway, as of now, y’all are just as much in the loop as I am.”

Effortlessly, Takirak shouldered his way through the group of suddenly nervous-looking soldiers and airmen. “What are your orders, sir?” he asked quietly. Alone of everyone, he seemed completely unfazed by the sudden turn of events.

Flynn nodded. “Glad you asked, Sergeant,” he said, forcing himself to sound confident and in command. “As a first step, I want you to take a six-man patrol out pronto and set up a chain of two-man observation posts somewhere between here and the west end of the island. Make sure you’ve got decent fields of fire to cover the open ground around this station.”

Takirak considered that. “It’s pretty cold out there right now, Captain. Around ten below zero. Four hours outside is the maximum time I’d recommend—unless we’re setting up camp.”

“We’ll rotate your team back inside after four hours,” Flynn assured him. “I’ll take over your OPs with the other half of the team for the next shift, while your guys get some hot food and rest. Then we’ll trade off again.”

“How long do you figure to keep this four-on, four-off rotation going?” the National Guard sergeant asked.

“However long it takes the geniuses in D.C. to pin down what the Russians are doing,” Flynn said. “If Moscow’s only running a big-assed readiness exercise, we ought to get the word to stand down pretty soon.”

“And if this isn’t just a drill?”

Flynn smiled thinly. “Then the weather will be the least of our problems, Sergeant.”

Takirak shot him an equally tight grin in response. “Point taken, sir.” He swung around and started jabbing fingers at some of the watching soldiers and airmen. “Hynes, Vucovich, Sanchez, Kim, and Boyd, you’re with me. You’ve got ten minutes to report back here in full cold weather gear, with your weapons and ammunition. So move!”

They scattered instantly, heading for their racks to grab their equipment and then struggle into multiple layers of clothing designed to protect them from extreme cold—everything from long underwear, Gore-Tex pants, and fleece jackets to thick parkas, balaclavas, goggles, boots, and gloves. Even a few days under the veteran NCO’s tutelage had taught them that “Takirak time” was precise. Ten minutes meant ten minutes and not a single second more, not unless you wanted to get seriously lit up in front of every other guy in the unit.

Flynn looked at the five men who were still left. “As for you guys, I suggest you grab some extra shut-eye while you can.” Slowly, Mitchell and the others drifted away, talking the situation over in low, worried-sounding voices.

When they were gone, Takirak lowered his voice and leaned closer to Flynn. “Just so I understand your thinking, sir, what’s the real purpose behind deploying these observation posts?”

“Meaning, have I gone loco and actually started believing that the Russians might attack this radar site with helicopters or paratroops, instead of lobbing a couple of cruise missiles our way?” Flynn said wryly.