James Rouch - Plague Bomb

‘What did that have to do with his driving?’ Scenting an interesting story in the offing, Dooley encouraged his fellow American.

‘Well the fella we took the ‘shine to, he always paid cash money on the barrel head, no fuss, no hassle. Uncle Billy planned to spend a goodly portion of it at Ma Kelly’s. She ran a real smart brothel, over a Chinese laundry in Burford City, where we delivered. Aunt Sarah being to due to drop just about any time, Unc’ was in a hurry to get back but wanted time for a couple of decent sessions before we had to turn about.’

‘Did you get his oats?’ Thorne was taking a wry interest as well.

‘Not that day. Snooping revenuers found a thimble-full of white lightning still in the tank under the back seat. In his hurry he got kinda careless. Didn’t get his oats that or any day for quite a spell. I looked in on Ma Kelly’s, though. That were the day I lost my virginity. I were just thirteen, but big for my years, if you catch my meaning.’

Ripper had to pause there, as in attempting to nudge Dooley he moved the dressing on his arm. He rocked back and forth hugging the limb to him and keeping up an undertone of heartfelt obscenity.

‘Well don’t leave it there, tell us what happened.’ Dooley offered no vestige of sympathy, only encouragement to continue the story.

‘Shit, that hurt. Think maybe this’ll get me back stateside? Where was I?’

‘Losing your virginity.’

‘Oh yeah. Soon as I stepped inside I was grabbed by this big red-head. Maybe she thought the bulge in my pants was a roll of money, or maybe not, anyway she hustled me into this room the size of a broom cupboard. I ain’t kidding when I tell you if I’d been an inch taller we’d have had to do it standing up. So like a real pro she gets straight to the serious business first, and reels off a list of services and prices. She rattled through them too fast for me, shit, I’d have needed a medical dictionary to even figure what half of them were. When she asked me if I wanted to plate her I thought she were hinting she wanted me to help with the dishes.’

‘Get to it, what happened?’ Leaning close in order not to miss anything, Dooley inadvertently crushed up against Ripper’s sore arm and brought about another torrent of bad language, only at greater volume this time, and another delay.

‘You do that again, you fat ox, and I won’t tell you nothing. Like I was saying, I weren’t sure what to do and she must have guessed I were just a learner ‘cause she asked me if I’d ever seen dogs doing it. Hell, for us kids up in the hills watching the hounds make puppies was a spectator sport second only to peeping at grown-up cousins through knot holes in the barn when they were doing a spot of fingering. Only I didn’t get time to tell her that, she went down on all fours, dragged her skirt up over her back and presented me with a target even a blind man couldn’t have missed, ‘cepting I got all nervous, poked twice and missed came too soon and turned her rump into the biggest cream slice you ever saw. Boy was she mad.’

‘That’s put me off cake for life.’ With the conclusion of the story Thorne moved away.

‘Not me.’ Dooley smacked his lips. ‘I’m into the first pastry shop I can find next leave I get.’

‘If you don’t start using that bloody periscope and keep a watch for commie activity you won’t be in a fit state to appreciate anything, that’s if we get back.’ Hyde thrust spare magazines at Dooley.

‘Aw come off it Sarge,’ Dooley had to get in the last word, ‘there won’t be any Ruskies along this road. They’ll only have a few units in the whole of this quarantined area and they’ll all be raising dust trying to intercept those civvies, trying to be the ones who get their picture in Pravda.’

‘And there was me, thinking Russians fought only for the glory of the motherland.’ Thorne was attempting an experiment with the flamethrower, seeing if he could align its broad nozzle to fire through one of the ball mounts.

‘I thought there must be something wrong with your brain, all those warped bloody gadgets you keep coming up with, more likely to murder us than the fucking enemy.’ With disbelief Dooley watched the sapper trying to rig the improvised addition to the Marder’s on-board defences. ‘As for swallowing that bit about the Ruskies fighting for the motherland, that’s a load of crap. Better than half the poor shits we’re fighting aren’t even bloody Russian, let alone commies. So far in this war I’ve fought with cruds conscripted from every country the Russians have grabbed in the past. I’ve stuck my bayonet in Cubans, Estonians, East Germans, Bulgarians, even a shitty shivering Angolan. All they were fighting for was to stay alive through one more day, waiting for a chance to desert without a KGB goon squad hauling them back and stomping their bollocks to mincemeat.’

‘Keep watching, Dooley,’ Revell put an edge on his voice, ‘or I’ll be stamping on yours.’

‘On watch, Major. Watching now.’ Waiting until he was sure that the officer’s attention had shifted elsewhere, he nudged Ripper. ‘In made to measure ambush country like this, if we do run into Russians, by the time I see them it’ll be too bloody late!’

The information from the defence ministry was delivered directly into his hands, and the instant the door closed behind the messenger Rozenkov ripped the end from the large envelope.

It had been worth the two hour wait. He spread the borderless matte finished prints on the desk top and flicked through the typed sheets that accompanied them. Circled white letters were sprinkled across the photographs and of the location marked by each there was a separate enlargement, and a note among the listed information on the paperwork.

Swivelling around in his chair to face the map, the colonel checked off each against the yellow pins denoting GRU units, and almost immediately he found three military intelligence patrols Morkov had not told him about.

One of them was still too far from the civilians’ probable route to pose any threat. Another was closer, but was having to traverse very bad going and offered no immediate danger to his plans. The third did, very definitely.

Even studying the appropriate enlargement, Rozenkov could not distinguish the detail for himself, but the notes said that the unit was composed of five armoured vehicles, its radios were operating on frequencies reserved for the GRU and it was astride the autoroute the civilians were travelling, east of their last position. It was waiting for them.

Not for an instant did it occur to Rozenkov to speculate what urgent photographic interpretation work had been delayed while this favour had been done for him. The only matter that concerned him was his own position. If. to hold that he had for a while to monopolize the entire resources of a stretched and overworked department, had to have the exclusive use of precious satellite surveillance time when elsewhere the outcome of whole battles might depend on other information it could have provided but didn’t, then that was how it had to be.

He had seen other officers shot for failure in a minor mission of their own when they had sacrificed its success it enable a greater gain to be secured elsewhere. It was what he achieved that mattered to those above him, not what he assisted others to do, and so it was that his results were all that concerned him, nothing else.

A protest to the chief of Military Intelligence at the interference in his operation would be a total waste of time. Their friendship would count for nothing, not in a matter so important. General Mischenko would be very polite, very sympathetic, but he would deny all knowledge.

Raising his complaint with the men who had power over them both would be an even bigger mistake. Creating the impression that he was incapable of looking after the interests of his own department, and therefore of running it, the only result would be the utter ruin of his career prospects and his immediate removal and relegation to a position not half as senior as that he’d enjoyed at the Lubyanka.