Net Force - Tom Clancy [125]
Howard nodded. He had been surprised the mission had gone forward, given how cloudy the politics were in Washington. He did not want to get into a shooting war with the Chechens. No matter whose fault it might be, he was the man in charge, and the fallout would all settle on him. No, he didnt want a war this time. He wanted a nice clean insertion and retrieval, and as Fernandez had said, to fly away home. This one was too touchy for anything else.
Saturday, October 9th, 10:00 a.m. Springfield, Virginia
Ruzhyo and Grigory the Snake were at a petrol service station off 1-95, not far from the Springfield Regional Shopping Center. According to the map Ruzhyo had, the old Fort Belvoir Proving Ground was a few miles ahead, on the way to Quantico. What, he wondered, did an American proving ground look like? It must depend on what they were trying to prove, which weapon or vehicle they were testing.
Winters, the Texan, had gone home, to Dallas or Fort Worth or wherever it was he claimed he was from. Should they need him in the next few days, hed said, he would check for messages at the secure number.
They had stopped at the station because Grigory had an urgent need to use the toilet. From the muffled groans he had made as he urinated, Ruzhyo guessed that Zmeyas own personal snake was afflicted with some ailment. Gonorrhea, probably, since that was the venereal disease most likely to manifest itself with pain while peeing. As a soldier, Ruzhyo had heard many men groan while dribbling thus, usually a day or three after returning from the whores they had enjoyed while on leave.
Here was the Snakes reward for his adventures in Las Vegas.
Grigory came out of the toilet, his face flushed. I need some penicillin, Mikhayl.
Was she worth this?
Then, yes. Now, no.
I do not believe you can buy penicillin without a doctors order here, Ruzhyo said. He kept his face bland, even though he felt much like smiling. It served the fool right.
There is a pet store nearby, Grigory said. We can get it there.
A pet store?
Da. The Americans have rules against selling antibiotics for people, but not for animals. You can buy penicillin, tetracycline, streptomycin, even chloramphenicol for your pet fish. You open the capsules, sprinkle the medicine into the water. The drugs are not so pure as those intended for people, and they are expensive, but they work just as well.
Ruzhyd shook his head. Amazing. Not just that the Americans would do such a thing-Americans no longer surprised him with how stupid they could be-but that the Snake would know this? That was truly fascinating. How had he come by such knowledge?
Ruzhyo asked him.
I have been unlucky in love a few times, Grigory allowed.
Ruzhyo stared at the Snake. A man who knew no better was merely ignorant, a thing that could be remedied. Someone who knew better, but proceeded anyway? That was stupid, and not so easily repaired. Very well. We shall go to your pet store, so that you may buy fish medicine to fix your sick zmeyd. Then we find a way to get within range of Net Force HQ. I am thinking we will become U.S. Marines. What better disguise in a place like Quantico?
Anything you like, Mikhayl, once I get my penicillin.
Saturday, October 9th, 10:48 p.m. Urus-Martan, Chechnya
Howard looked at his watch, then through the dilapidated farmhouses window. The troops had managed to roll both the copters into the massive, if decrepit, barn. There had once been stalls for rows of cows to be milked, but the spooks had gutted enough of the barn to allow for such things as hiding two beat-up Hueys. They didnt look pretty, but they were in fine mechanical condition. They were painted a dark, dead military green and not black, but they were covert birds. They didnt carry any weapons, not even machine guns. They were strictly transport. Not very fast transport-a loaded Huey might hit 120 knots-but the craft were sturdy and dependable. You werent going to outrun an air-to-air or ground-to-air missile in anything that had a top rotor