"I'm sorry," Musicant said softly to the dead man.

"He was a good soldier and a brave ally," August said.

"Amen," Musicant replied.

August realized how tightly he was holding Honda's hand.

He gently released it. August had lost friends in Vietnam.

The emotional territory was bitterly familiar. But he had never lost nearly an entire squad before. For August, that loss was all there in the still, young face before him.

Musicant rose and had a look at August's arm. August was surprised how warm the last few minutes had left him.

Now that the drama had ended his heart was slowing and blood flow was severely reduced. The cold would set in quickly. They had to move out soon.

While Musicant cleaned and bandaged the wound the colonel turned to the TAC-SAT. He entered his personal access code and the unit came on.

Then he entered Bob Herbert's number. As August waited to be connected he removed the radio from his equipment vest.

He placed another call.

One that he prayed would be received.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT.

Washington, D. C. Thursday, 7:24 a. m.

"Have we heard anything yet?" Paul Hood asked as he swung into Bob Herbert's office.

The intelligence chief was drinking coffee and looking at his computer monitor.

"No, and the NRO hasn't seen them yet either," Herbert said.

"Still just the Pakistanis."

Hood looked at his watch.

"They should be down by now.

Has the transport landed yet?"

"No," Herbert replied.

"The pilot radioed the tower in Chushul. He said that the cargo had been delivered but nothing more."

"I don't expect they stuck around to verify that our guys touched down,"

Hood said.

"Probably not," Herbert agreed.

"That close to the Pakistani border I'm guessing the plane just turned south and ran."

"Hell, why not," Hood said.

"We're only trying to stop their country from being involved in a nuclear war."

"You're stealing my cynicism," Herbert pointed out.

"Anyway, they probably don't know what's at stake."

As Herbert was speaking the phone beeped. It was the secure line. He put it on speaker.

"Herbert here."

"Bob, it's August," said the caller. It was difficult to hear him.

"Colonel, you've got a lot of wind there," Herbert said.

"You'll have to speak up."

"Bob, we've had a major setback here," August said loudly and slowly.

"Indian troops from the LOC peppered us with flak on the way down. Most of our personnel were neutralized. Musicant and I are the only ones on the plateau.

Rodgers missed but he may have reached the valley. We don't know if he's hurt. I'm trying to reach him by radio."

"Say again," Herbert asked.

"Two safe, one MIA, rest dead."

"That's correct," August told him.

The intelligence chief looked up at Hood, who was still standing in the doorway. Herbert's face looked drawn. He muttered something in a taut, dry whisper. Hood could not make out what Herbert was saying.

Perhaps it was not meant to be heard.