The Bear and the Dragon - Tom Clancy [427]
"Regrettably, yes, Comrade Captain. A good slug of vodka helps keep the chill away in these damp woods."
"And it also dulls the senses, and we need our senses, Boris Yevgeniyevich, unless you enjoy eating rice. Assuming the Chinks take prisoners, which I rather doubt. They do not like us, Sergeant, and they are not a civilized people. Remember that."
So, they don't go to the ballet. Neither do I, Sergeant Buikov didn't say aloud. His captain was a Muscovite, and spoke often of cultural matters. But like his captain, Buikov had no love for the Chinese, and even less now that he was looking at Chinese soldiers on the soil of his country. He only regretted not killing some, but killing was not his job. His job was watching them piss on his country, which somehow only made him angrier.
"Captain, will we ever get to shoot them?" the sergeant asked.
"In due course, yes, it will be our job to eliminate their reconnaissance elements, and yes, Boris, I look forward to that as well." And, yes, I could use a smoke as well. And I'd love a glass of vodka right now. But he'd settle for some black bread and butter, which he did have in his track, three hundred meters to the north.
Six and a half minutes this time. The fox had at least looked into the woods to the east, probably listened for the sound of diesel engines, but heard nothing but the chirping of birds. Still, this Chink lieutenant was the more conscientious of the two, in Buikov's opinion. They should kill him first, when the time came, the sergeant thought. Aleksandrov tapped the sergeant on the shoulder. "Our turn to leapfrog, Boris Yevgeniyevich."
"By your command, Comrade Captain." And both men moved out, crouching for the first hundred meters, and taking care not to make too much noise, until they heard the Chinese tracks start their engines. In five more minutes, they were back in their BRM and heading north, slowly picking their way through the trees, Aleksandrov buttered some bread and ate it, sipping water as he did so. When they'd traveled a thousand meters, their vehicle stopped, and the captain got on his big radio.
"Who is Ingrid?" Tolkunov asked.
"Ingrid Bergman," Major Tucker replied. "Actress, goodlookin' babe in her day. All the Dark Stars are named for movie stars, Colonel. The troops did it." There was a plastic strip on the monitor top to show which Dark Star was up and transmitting. Marilyn Monroe was back at Zhigansk for service, and Grace Kelly was the next one up, scheduled to go in fifteen hours. "Anyway"—he flipped a switch and then played a little with his mouse control—"there's the Chinese lead elements."
"Son of a bitch," Tolkunov said, demonstrating his knowledge of American slang.
Tucker grinned. "Pretty good, ain't it? Once I sent one over a nudist colony in California—that's like a private park where people walk around naked all the time. You can tell the difference between the flat-chested ones and the ones with nice tits. Tell the natural blondes from the peroxide ones, too. Anyway, you use this mouse to control the camera—well, somebody else is doing it now up at Zhigansk. Anything in particular that you're interested in?"
"The bridges on the Amur," Tolkunov said at once. Tucker picked up a radio microphone.
"This is Major Tucker. We have a tasking request. Slew Camera Three onto the big crossing point."
"Roger," the speaker next to the monitor said.
The picture changed immediately, seeming to race across the screen like a ribbon from ten o'clock down to four o'clock. Then it stabilized. The field of view must have been four kilometers across. It showed a total of what appeared to be eight bridges, each of them approached by what looked like a parade of insects.
"Give me control of Camera Three," Tucker said next.
"You got it, sir," the speaker acknowledged.
"Okay." Tucker played with the mouse more than the keyboard, and the picture zoomed in—"isolated"—on the third bridge from the west. There were three tanks on it at once, moving at about ten kilometers per hour south to north. The display showed a compass