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.We learned that lesson at Kiev-""Excuse me, Comrade General, what about Stalingrad?""A somewhat different situation, Captain.Remarkable, nonetheless, how history can repeat itself," Alekseyev muttered, studying the map on the wall.He shook his head.West Germany had too much in the way of road communications for that to work."The KGB reports that NATO has two, at most three weeks' supply of munitions left.That will be the decisive factor.""What of our supplies and fuel?" the young captain asked.His answer was a scowl.ICELANDAt least there was water.The streams were fed by glaciers that lay in the center of the island-water that had fallen as snow over a thousand years before, long before atmospheric pollution, and been compressed to ice.When finally it melted to fill the rocky streams, it turned back into water of crystalline purity and marvelous taste, but absolutely no nutritional value.It was also ice cold, and fords were not easily found."Down to one day's rations, Lieutenant," Smith observed as they finished off their meal."Yeah, we'll have to think that one over." Edwards assembled his trash.Garcia collected it all for burial.If there had been a way to cover their footprints in the dirt, Smith would have had them doing that too.It wasn't easy.As Edwards assembled his radio, he listened to muttered Spanish curses and the sound of a folding shovel slamming against the loose rocks that passed for soil atop Hill 482."Doghouse, this is Beagle, and we're running out of food, over.""Sorry to bear that, Beagle.Maybe we'll have some pizzas sent out.""You funny bastard," Edwards said without toggling the Transmit key."What do you want us to do this time?""Have you been spotted by anyone?""We're alive, ain't we? Negative.""Tell me what you can see.""Okay, there's a gravel road downhill to the north, maybe two miles away.Looks like a farm-plowed fields, like, but can't tell what's growing there.Another sheep farm to the west of us, we passed it coming here.Lots of sheep.Ten minutes ago we saw a truck on the road heading west.Haven't seen anything flying yet today, but I suppose that'll change.The only civilians we've seen have been right by their houses, we haven't even seen farmers with their sheep, and the farm to the north has no visible activity.No-say again zero-civilian road traffic.Ivan's got this island shut down, Doghouse, really shut down.That's about all I can say.Tell those Vark drivers they really did the job on that powerhouse.Nothing left but a hole in the ground.We haven't seen an electric light lit since.""Copy that, Beagle.Okay, your orders are to head north towards Hvammsfjordur.You need to take a wide detour east to avoid all these bays I see.We want you there in ten days.Say again ten days, twelve at the most.You can make it easy.Stay out in the boonies and avoid contact with anyone.Continue the normal contact schedule and report on anything you see that may be of interest.Acknowledge.""Roger, Doghouse, you want us in sight of Hvammsfjordur at the end of next week, and keep up the usual radio routine.Anything else?""Be careful.Out.""Hvammsfjordur?" Smith asked- "That's a hundred miles on a straight line.""They want us to detour east to avoid contact.""Two hundred miles--walking over this shit." Smith's frown was enough to split a rock."End of next week? Ten or eleven days?"Edwards nodded dumbly.He hadn't known it would be that far."Gonna be a little tough, Mr.Edwards." The sergeant pulled a largescale map from his case."I don't even have cards for the whole coastline.Damn.Look here, Lieutenant.The ridges and rivers on this rock come out from the center like the spokes on a wheel, y'see? That means we climb a lot, and these here ain't little hills.All the low places got roads, and sure as hell we can't follow no roads, right?" He shook his head.Edwards forced a grin."Can't hack it? I thought you Marines were in good shape."Smith was a man who ran five miles every morning.He could not recall ever seeing this little Air Force wimp out doing roadwork."Okay, Mr.Edwards.They say nobody ever drowned in sweat.On your feet, Marines, we got orders for a little hike." Rodgers and Garcia exchanged a look."Mister" was not exactly a term of endearment for an officer, but Smith figured that insubordination only counted if the officer knew he was being insulted.KEFLAVIK, ICELANDThe helicopters took time to assemble.The big AN-22 transport had delivered two Mi-24 attack choppers, quite a load even for that four-engine monster.Another IL-76 flight had delivered the technicians and flight crews to assemble, service, and fly them.There had been a major oversight in the plan, the General thought.The one helicopter that had survived the strafing attack on the first day was now broken down-and of course the broken part was not one which had been included in their pre-packaged equipment.There should have been more helicopters.He shrugged eloquently.No plan was ever perfect.More helicopters would be flown in, plus a few more mobile radar sets and some additional SAM launchers.The Americans looked to have every intention of making his tenure on Iceland difficult, and he needed more equipment to counter that.Then there were those KGB bastards.We have to pacify the island, they said.As if Iceland wasn't already passive enough
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