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 〃Maybe even ninety; rade General。 It's better than five minutes; is it not?〃 He paused for a sip of vodka。 Both had been drinking for half an hour。 〃For the 265th; we must begin a serious training program at once。 Honestly; the division mander did not impress me greatly; but I suppose we must give him a chance。〃
 Bondarenko: 〃He's been out here so long; maybe he likes the idea of Chinese food。〃
 〃General; I was out here as a lieutenant;〃 Aliyev said。 〃I remember the political officers telling us that the Chinese had increased the length of the bayonets on their AK…47s to get through the extra fat layer we'd grown after discarding true Marxism…Leninism and eating too much。〃
 〃Really?〃 Bondarenko asked。
 〃That is the truth; Gennady Iosifovich。〃
 〃So; what do we know of the PLA?〃
 〃There are a lot of them; and they've been training seriously for about four years now; much harder than we've been doing。〃
 〃They can afford to;〃 Bondarenko observed sourly。 The other thing he'd learned on arriving was how thin the cupboard was for funds and training equipment。 But it wasn't totally bleak。 He had stores of consumable supplies that had been stocked and piled for three generations。 There was a virtual mountain of shells for the 100…mm guns on his many…and long…since obsolete…T…54/55 tanks; for example; and a sea of diesel fuel hidden away in underground tanks too numerous to count。 The one thing he had in the Far East Military District was infrastructure; built up by the Soviet Union over generations of institutional paranoia。 But that wasn't the same as an army to mand。
 〃What about aviation?〃
 〃Mainly grounded;〃 Aliyev answered glumly。 〃Parts problems。 We used up so much in Chechnya that there isn't enough to go around; and the Western District still has first call。〃
 〃Oh? Our political leadership expects the Poles to invade us?〃
 〃That's the direction Germany is in;〃 the G…3 pointed out。
 〃I've been fighting that out with the High mand for three years;〃 Bondarenko growled; thinking of his time as chief of operations for the entire Russian army。 〃People would rather listen to themselves than to others with the voice of reason。〃 He looked up at Aliyev。 〃And if the Chinese e?〃
 The theater operations officer shrugged。 〃Then we have a problem。〃
 Bondarenko remembered the maps。 It wasn't all that far to the new gold strike 。 。 。 and the ever…industrious army engineers were building the damned roads to it。。。
 〃Tomorrow; Andrey Petrovich。 Tomorrow we start drawing up a training regimen for the whole mand;〃 CINC…FAR EAST told his own G…3。
 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER  27
 Transportation
 
 Diggs didn't entirely like what he saw; but it wasn't all that unexpected。 A battalion of Colonel Lisle's 2nd Brigade was out there; maneuvering through the exercise area…clumsily; Diggs thought。 He had to amend his thoughts; of course。 This wasn't the National Training Center at Fort Irwin; California; and Lisle's 2nd Brigade wasn't the 11th ACR; whose troopers were out there training practically every day; and as a result knew soldiering about as well as a SURGEON knew cutting。 No; 1st Armored Division had turned into a garrison force since the demise of the Soviet Union; and all that wasted time in what was left of Yugoslavia; trying to be 〃peacekeepers;〃 hadn't sharpened their war…fighting skills。 That was a term Diggs hated。 Peacekeepers be damned; the general thought; they were supposed to be soldiers; not policemen in battle dress uniform。 The opposing force here was a German brigade; and by the looks of it; a pretty good one; with their Leopard…11 tanks。 Well; the Germans had soldiering in their genetic code somewhere; but they weren't any better trained than Americans; and training was the difference between some ignorant damned civilian and a soldier。 Training meant knowing where to look and what to do when you saw something there。 Training meant knowing what the tank to your left was going to do without having to look。 Training meant knowing how to fix your tank or Bradley when something broke。 Training eventually meant pride; because with training came confidence; the sure knowledge that you were the baddest motherfucker in the Valley of the Shadow of Death; and you didn't have to fear no evil at all。
 Colonel Boyle was flying the UH…60A in which Diggs was riding。
 Diggs was in the jump scat immediately aft and between the pilots' seats。 They were cruising about five hundred feet over the ground。
 〃Oops; that platoon down there just walked into something;〃 Boyle reported; pointing。 Sure enough the lead tank's blinking yellow light started flashing the I'm dead signal。
 〃Let's see how the platoon sergeant recovers;〃 General Diggs said。
 They watched; and sure enough; the sergeant pulled the remaining three tanks back while the crew bailed out of the platoon leader's M1A2 main battle tank。 As a practical matter; both it and its crew would probably have survived whatever administrative 〃hit〃 it had taken from the Germans。 Nobody had yet e up with a weapon to punch reliably through the Chobham armor; but someone might someday; and so the tank crews were not encouraged to think themselves immortal and their tanks invulnerable。
 〃Okay; that sergeant knows his job;〃 Diggs observed; as the helicopter moved to another venue。 The general saw that Colonel Masterman was making notes aplenty on his pad。 〃What do you think; Duke?〃
 〃I think they're at about seventy…five percent efficiency; sir;〃 the G…3 operations officer replied。 〃Maybe a little better。 We need to put everybody on the SIMNET; to shake 'em all up a little。〃 That was one of the Army's better investments。 SIMNET; the simulator network; prised a warehouse full of Ml and Bradley simulators; linked by superputer and satellite with two additional such warehouses; so that highly plex and realistic battles could be fought out electronically。 It had been hugely expensive; and while it could never fully simulate training in the field; it was nevertheless a training aid without parallel。
 〃General; all that time in Yugoslavia didn't help Lisle's boys;〃 Boyle said from the chopper's right seat。
 〃I know that;〃 Diggs agreed。 〃I'm not going to kill anybody's career just yet;〃 he promised。
 Boyle's head turned to grin。 〃Good; sir。 I'll spread that word around。〃
 〃What do you think of the Germans?〃
 〃I know their boss; General Major Siegfried Model。 He's damned smart。 Plays a hell of a game of cards。 Be warned; General。〃
 〃Is that a fact?〃 Diggs had manded the NTC until quite recently; and had occasionally tried his luck at Las Vegas; a mere two hours up I…15 from the post。
 〃Sir; I know what you're thinking。 Think again;〃 Boyle cautioned his boss。
 〃Your helicopters seem to be doing well。〃
 〃Yep; Yugoslavia was fairly decent training for us; and long as we have gas; I can train my people。〃
 〃What about live…fire?〃 the manding general of First Tanks asked。
 〃We haven't done that in a while; sir; but again; the simulators are almost as good as the real thing;〃 Boyle replied over the inter。 〃But I think you'll want your track toads to get some in; General。〃 And Boyle was right on that one。 Nothing substituted for live fire in an Abrams or a Bradley。
 
 The stakeout on the park bench turned out to be lengthy and boring。 First of all; of course; they'd pulled the container; opened it; and discovered that the contents were two sheets of paper; closely printed with Cyrillic characters; but encrypted。 So the sheet had been photographed and sent off to the cryppies for decryption。 This had not proven to be easy。 In fact; it had thus far proven to be impossible; leading the officers from the Federal Security Service to conclude that the Chinese (if that was who it was) had adopted the old KGB practice of using one…time pads。 These were unbreakable in theoretical terms because there was no pattern; formula; or algorithm to crack。
 The rest of the time was just a matter of waiting to see who came to pick up the package。
 It ended up taking days。 The FSS put three cars on the case。 Two of them were vans with long…lens cameras on the target。 In the meanwhile; Suvorov/Koniev's apartment was as closely watched as the Moscow Stock Exchange ticker。 The subject himself had a permanent shadow of up to ten trained officers; mainly KGB trained spy…chasers instead of Provalov's homicide investigators; but with a leavening of the latter because it was technically still their case。 It would remain a homicide case until some foreign national…they hoped…picked up the package under the bench。
 Since it was a park bench; people sat on it regularly。 Adults reading papers; children reading ic books; teenagers holding hands; people chatting amiably; even two elderly men who met every afternoon for a game of chess played on a small magnetic board。 After every such visit; the stash was checked for movement or disturbance; always without result。 By the fourth day; people speculated aloud that it was all some sort of trick。 This was Suvorov/Koniev's way of seeing if he were being trailed or not。 If so; he was a clever son of a bitch; the surveillance people all agreed。 But they already knew that。
 The break came in the late afternoon of day five; and it was the man they wanted it to be。 His name was Kong Deshi; and he was a minor diplomat on the official list; age forty…six; a man of modest dimensions; and; the form card at the Foreign Ministry said; modest intellectual gifts…that was a polite way of saying he was considered a dunce。 But as others had noted; that was the perfect cover for a spy; and one which wasted a lot of time for counter…intelligence people; making them trail dumb diplomats all over the world who turned out to be nothing more than just that…dumb diplomats…of which the global supply was ample。 The man was walking casually with another Chinese national; who was a businessman of some sort; or so they'd thought。 Sitting; they'd continued to chat; gesturing around until the second man had turned to look at something Kong had pointed at。 Then Kong's right hand had slipped rapidly and almost invisibly under the bench and retrieved the stash; possibly replacing it with another before his hand went back in his lap。 Five minutes later; after a smoke; they'd both wa

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