Without remorse - Tom Clancy [166]
'To use against you?'
'Against whom, then, the Indians? Tibet? Robin, these people are different from you and me. They don't see the world as we do. They're like the Hitlerites my father fought, they think they are better than other men - how you say?'
'Master race?' the American suggested helpfully.
'That is the word, yes. They believe it. We're animals to them, useful animals, yes, but they hate us, and they want what we have. They want our oil and our timber and our land.'
'How come I've never been briefed on this?' Zacharias demanded.
'Shit,' the Russian answered. 'Is it any different in your country? When France pulled out of NATO, when they told your people to take your bases out, do you think any of us were told about it beforehand? I had a staff job then in Germany, and nobody troubled himself to tell me that anything was happening. Robin, the way you look to us is the same as how we look to you, a great colossus, but the internal politics in your country are as much a mystery to me as mine are to you. It can all be very confusing, but I tell you this, my friend, my new MiG regiment will be based between China and Moscow. I can bring a map and show you.'
Zacharias leaned back against the wall, wincing again with the recurring pain from his back. It was just too much to believe.
'It hurts still, Robin?'
'Yeah.'
'Here, my friend.' Grishanov handed over his flask, and this time it was accepted without resistance. He watched Zacharias take a long pull before handing it back.
'So just how good is this new one?'
'The MiG-25! It's a rocket,' Grishanov told him enthusiastically. 'It probably turns even worse than your Thud, but for straight-line speed, you have no fighter close to it. Four missiles, no gun. The radar is the most powerful ever made for a fighter, and it cannot be jammed.'
'Short range?' Zacharias asked.
'About forty kilometers.' The Russian nodded. 'We give away range for reliability. We tried to get both but failed.'
'Hard for us, too,' the American acknowledged with a grunt.
'You know, I do not expect a war between my country and yours. Truly I do not. We have little that you might wish to take away. What we have - resources, space, land - all these things you have. But the Chinese,' he said, 'they need these things, and they share a border with us. And we gave them the weapons that they will use against us, and there are so many of them! Little, evil people, like these here, but so many more.'
'So what are you going to do about it?'
Grishanov shrugged. 'I will command my regiment. I will plan to defend the Motherland against a nuclear attack from China. I just haven't decided how yet.'
'It's not easy. It helps if you have space and time to play with, and the right people to play against.' .
'We have bomber people, but nothing like yours. You know, even without resistance, I doubt we could place as many as twenty bombers over your country. They're all based two thousand kilometers from where I will be. You know what that means? Nobody even to train against.'
'You mean a red team?'
'We would call it a blue team, Robin. I hope you understand.' Grishanov chuckled, then turned serious again. 'But, yes. It will all be theoretical, or some fighters will pretend to be bombers, but their endurance is too short for a proper exercise.'
'This is all on the level?'
'Robin, I will not ask you to trust me. That is too much. You know that and so do I. Ask yourself, do you really think your country will ever make war on my country?'
'Probably not,' Zacharias admitted.
'Have I asked you about your war plans? Yes, certainly, they are most interesting theoretical exercises and I would probably find them fascinating war games, but have I asked about them?' His voice was that of a patient teacher.
'No, you haven't, Kolya, that's true.'
'Robin, I am not worried about B-52s. I am worried about Chinese bombers. That is the war my country