They were the toughest words Rodgers had ever had to utter, and Hood gave the General a reassuring squeeze on the forearm.

"The Russian's torso is out of the train," Honda continued, "but he looks like dead weight."

"But he's not dead?"

"No, sir. His hands and head are moving."

The line was silent again. Rodgers and Hood looked at one another, aborted vacations and who answered-to-who forgotten as they suffered this wait together.

"I can see the Lieutenant Colonel now," said Honda. "He's leaning out the window and his hand's holding up the front of the Russian's coat. He's motioning-- pointing into the cab, moving his finger across his throat."

"The controls are dead," Rodgers said. "Is that it?

"We think that's what he's saying," said Honda.

"Hold on, sir. We're about to make a pass over the train. And then I think… yes, sir."

"What, Private?"

With rising excitement Ishi Honda said, "Sir, the pilot told us to lower the ladder. We've got eighty seconds to reel our boys in."

Rodgers was finally able to breathe. And as he took each breath, he watched the numbers of the computer clock flick by inexorably

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

Tuesday, 11:57 P.M., Khabarovsk

The Mosquito had slashed overhead like a time-lapse thundercloud, dark, powerful, and silent. Squires followed the helicopter with his eyes as it passed the engine and coal tender, then stopped, pivoted 180 degrees, and began inching back toward them.

The ladder dropped fast and straight and Sondra came down several rungs. Holding tightly to one, she leaned back, her arm stretched down, ready to help.

"Come on!" she cried.

"Newmeyer!" Squires yelled over the roar of the engine.

"Sir?"

"Let go of the Russian and get Grey out of here. You too."

Newmeyer obeyed without hesitation. Like any special forces team, the Strikers had been trained to take orders implicitly and immediately in a crisis situation, however those orders went against their instincts or emotions. Later, when he thought about it over and over, Newmeyer would Monday-morning-quarterback the entire evacuation process, whether he was in bed, drilling, or talking to psychologist Liz Gordon. Now, though, he did what Lieutenant Colonel Squires had ordered.

Releasing the Russian, Newmeyer put his shoulder back under Grey. The helicopter arrived directly overhead as he stood, the pilot coming down a foot to bring the bottom of the ladder level with Newmeyer's knees.

The Private put his foot on the second rung and began to climb. As soon as he was within range, both Sondra and Private Pupshaw reached down to haul Grey in.

Even as she allowed Pupshaw to finish bringing the Sergeant inside, and extended her hand to Newmeyer, Sondra's eyes were on Lieutenant Colonel Squires.

"Thirty seconds!" copilot lovino called back at them.

"Sir!" she shouted as he tried to get himself under Nikita. "Half-minute warning!"

"Twenty-five!" lovino shouted.