Without remorse - Tom Clancy [273]
'These papers are in Russian,' Irvin announced.
'Give me some,' Ritter ordered. 'My Russian's pretty good.'
'We need somebody who can read Vietnamese, too.'
'I have one of those,' Albie said. 'Irvin, get Sergeant Chalmers in here.'
'Aye aye, sir.'
Ritter and Greer moved to a corner table. 'Lord,' the field officer observed, flipping through the written notes. 'This guy's gotten a lot... Rokossovskiy? He's in Hanoi? Here's a summary sheet.'
Staff Sergeant Chalmers, an intelligence specialist, started reading through the papers taken from Major Vinh. Everyone else waited for the spooks to get through the papers.
'Where am I?' Grishanov asked in Russian. He tried to reach for his blindfold, but his hands couldn't move.
'How are you feeling?' a voice answered in the same language.
'Car smashed into something.' The voice stopped. 'Where am I?'
'You're aboard USS Ogden, Colonel,' Ritter told him in English.
The body strapped in the bunk went rigid, and the prisoner immediately said, in Russian, that he didn't speak English.
'Then why are some of yow notes in English?' Ritter asked reasonably.
'I am a Soviet officer. You have no right -'
'We have as much right as you had to interrogate American prisoners of war, and to conspire to kill them, Comrade Colonel.'
'What do you mean?'
'Your friend Major Vinh is dead, but we have his dispatches. I guess you were finished talking to our people, right? And the NVA were trying to figure the most convenient way to eliminate them. Are you telling me you didn't know that?'
The oath Ritter heard was a particularly vile one, but the voice held genuine surprise that was interesting. This man was too injured to dissimulate well. He looked up at Greer.
'I've got some more reading to do. You want to keep this guy company?'
The one good thing that happened to Kelly that night was that Captain Franks hadn't tossed the aviator rations over the side after all. Finished with his debrief, he found his cabin and downed three stiff ones. With the release from the tension of the night, physical exhaustion assaulted the young man. The three drinks knocked him out, and he collapsed into his bunk without so much as a cleansing shower.
It was decided that Ogden would continue as planned, steaming at twenty knots back towards Subic Bay. The big amphibious ship became a quiet place. The crew, pumped up for an important and dramatic mission, became subdued with its failure. Watches were changed, the ship continued to function as before, but the mess rooms' only noise was that of the metal trays and utensils. No jokes, no stories. The additional medical personnel took it the hardest of all. With no one to treat and nothing to do, they just wandered about. Before noon the helicopters departed, the Cobras for Danang and the rescue birds back to their carrier. The signal-intelligence people switched over to more regular duties, searching the airways for radio messages, finding a new mission to replace the old.
Kelly didn't awaken until 1800 hours. After showering, he headed below to find the Marines. He owed them an explanation, he thought. Somebody did. They were in the same space. The sand-table model was still there as well.
'I was right up here,' he said, finding the rubber band with two eyes on it.
'How many bad guys?'
'Four trucks, they came in this road, stopped here,' Kelly explained. 'They were digging in crew-served weapons here and here. They sent people up my hill. I saw another team heading this way right before I moved.'
'Jesus,' a squad leader noted. 'Right on our approach route.'
'Yeah,' Kelly confirmed. 'Anyway, that's why.'
'How'd they know to send in the reinforcements?' a corporal asked.
'Not my department.'
'Thanks, Snake,' the squad leader said, looking from the model that would soon be tossed over the side. 'Tough call, wasn't it?'
Kelly nodded. 'I'm sorry, pal. Jesus God, I'm sorry.'
'Mr Clark, I got a baby due in two months. 'Cept for you, well...' The Marine extended his hand across