Cyclops (Dirk Pitt 8)

Pitt sat down again and gave the other two men in the room a cold, hard stare. "Gentlemen, you've been had."

Clark looked at Pitt in dark speculation. "What are you talking about?"

"You overestimated the Russians' grandstand tactics and underestimated their cunning," said Pitt.

"There is no nuclear bomb on any of those ships. For what they plan to do, they don't need one."

Colonel General Viktor Kolchak, chief of the fifteen thousand Soviet military forces and advisers based on Cuban soil, came from behind his desk and embraced Velikov warmly.

"General, you don't know how glad I am to see you alive."

"The feeling is mutual, Colonel General," said Velikov, returning Kolchak's bear hug.

"Sit down, sit down, we have much to discuss. Whoever was behind the destruction of our island surveillance facility will pay. A communication from President Antonov assures me he will not take this outrage sitting down."

"No one agrees more than me," said Velikov. "But we have another urgent matter to discuss."

"Care for a glass of vodka?"

"I can do without," Velikov replied brusquely. "Rum and Cola takes place tomorrow morning at ten-thirty. Are your preparations complete?"

Kolchak poured a small shot of vodka for himself. "Soviet officials and our Cuban friends are discreetly slipping out of the city in small groups. Most of my military forces have already left to begin sham maneuvers forty miles away. By dawn, all personnel, equipment, and important documents will have been quietly evacuated."

"Leave some behind," Velikov said casually.

Kolchak peered over his rimless glasses like a grandmother hearing a four-letter word from a child.

"Leave what behind, General?"

Velikov brushed off the derisive look. "Fifty Soviet civilian personnel, wives and families, and two hundred of your military forces."

"Do you know what you're asking?"

"Precisely. We cannot lay blame on the CIA for a hundred thousand deaths without suffering casualties ourselves. Russians dying beside Cubans. We'll reap propaganda rewards that will go far in smoothing the path for our new government."

"I can't bring myself to throw away the lives of two hundred and fifty countrymen."

"Conscience never bothered your father when he cleared German mine fields by marching his men over them."

"That was war."

"Only the enemy has changed," Velikov said coldly. "We have been at war with the United States since 1945. The cost in lives is small compared to increasing our hold in the Western Hemisphere. There is no room for argument, General. You will be expected to do your duty."

"I don't need the KGB lecturing me on my duty to the motherland," Kolchak said without rancor.

Velikov shrugged indifferently. "We all do our part. Getting back to Rum and Cola-- after the explosion your troops will return to the city and assist in medical and relief operations. My people will oversee the orderly transition of government. I'll also arrange for international press coverage showing benevolent Soviet soldiers caring for the injured survivors."

"As a soldier I have to say I find this entire operation abhorrent. I can't believe Comrade Antonov is a party to it."

"His reasons are valid, and I for one do not question them."

Kolchak leaned against the edge of his desk, his shoulders sagging. "I'll have a list made up of those who will stay."

"Thank you, Colonel General."

"I assume all preparations are complete?"