Western clothes running at dawn.”
“I gather that it is out of the ordinary for your troops to run at all,” Bondarenko noted dryly.
“There is hardly room on this mountaintop for a proper regime of physical training, Comrade Colonel.”
“Is that so?” Bondarenko smiled as he took out a notebook and pencil. “You claim to take your security duties seriously, but you do not meet norms for physical training of your troops. Thank you for that piece of information, Comrade Lieutenant. I will discuss that matter with your commanding officer. May I go?”
“Technically, I have orders to provide escort for all official visitors.”
“Excellent. I like to have company when I run. Will you be so kind as to join me, Comrade Lieutenant?”
The KGB officer was trapped, and knew it. Five minutes later, he was puffing like a landed fish.
“What is your main security threat?” Bondarenko asked him—maliciously, since he did not slow down.
“The Afghan border is one hundred eleven kilometers that way,” the Lieutenant said between wheezes. “They have occasionally sent some of their bandit raiders into Soviet territory, as you may have heard.”
“Do they make contact with local citizens?”
“Not that we have established, but that is a concern. The local population is largely Muslim.” The Lieutenant started coughing. Gennady stopped.
“In air this cold, I have found that wearing a mask helps,” he said. “It warms the air somewhat before you breathe it. Straighten up and breathe deeply, Comrade Lieutenant. If you take your security provisions so seriously, you and your men should be in proper physical shape. I promise you that the Afghans are. Two winters ago I spent time with a Spetznaz team that chased them over a half dozen miserable mountains. We never did catch them.” But they caught us, he didn't say. Bondarenko would never forget that ambush . . .
“Helicopters?”
“They cannot always fly in bad weather, my young Comrade, and in my case we were trying to establish that we, too, could fight in the mountains.”
“Well, we have patrols out every day, of course.”
It was the way he said it that bothered Bondarenko, and the Colonel made a mental note to check that out. “How far have we run?”
“Two kilometers.”
“The altitude does make things difficult. Come, we will walk back.”
The sunrise was spectacular. The blazing sphere edged above a nameless mountain to the east, and its light marched down the nearer slopes, chasing the shadows into the deep, glacial valleys. This installation was no easy objective, even for the inhuman barbarians of the mudjaheddin. The guard towers were well sited, with clear fields of fire that extended for several kilometers. They didn't use searchlights out of consideration for the civilians who lived here, but night-vision devices were a better choice in any case, and he was sure that the KGB troops used those. And—he shrugged—site security wasn't the reason he'd been sent down, though it was a fine excuse to needle the KGB security detail.
“May I ask how you obtained your exercise clothing?” the KGB officer asked when he was able to breathe properly.
“Are you a married man, Comrade Lieutenant?”
“Yes, I am, Comrade Colonel.”
“Personally, I do not question my wife on where she buys her birthday presents for me. Of course, I am not a chekist.” Bondarenko did a few deep knee-bends to show that he was, however, a better man.
“Colonel, while our duties are not quite the same, we both serve the
Soviet Union
. I am a young, inexperienced officer, as you have already made quite clear. One of the things that disturbs me is the unnecessary rivalry between the Army and the KGB.”
Bondarenko turned to look at the Lieutenant. “That was well said, my young Comrade. Perhaps when you wear general's stars, you will remember the sentiment.”
He dropped the KGB Lieutenant back at the guard post and walked briskly back to the
“I gather that it is out of the ordinary for your troops to run at all,” Bondarenko noted dryly.
“There is hardly room on this mountaintop for a proper regime of physical training, Comrade Colonel.”
“Is that so?” Bondarenko smiled as he took out a notebook and pencil. “You claim to take your security duties seriously, but you do not meet norms for physical training of your troops. Thank you for that piece of information, Comrade Lieutenant. I will discuss that matter with your commanding officer. May I go?”
“Technically, I have orders to provide escort for all official visitors.”
“Excellent. I like to have company when I run. Will you be so kind as to join me, Comrade Lieutenant?”
The KGB officer was trapped, and knew it. Five minutes later, he was puffing like a landed fish.
“What is your main security threat?” Bondarenko asked him—maliciously, since he did not slow down.
“The Afghan border is one hundred eleven kilometers that way,” the Lieutenant said between wheezes. “They have occasionally sent some of their bandit raiders into Soviet territory, as you may have heard.”
“Do they make contact with local citizens?”
“Not that we have established, but that is a concern. The local population is largely Muslim.” The Lieutenant started coughing. Gennady stopped.
“In air this cold, I have found that wearing a mask helps,” he said. “It warms the air somewhat before you breathe it. Straighten up and breathe deeply, Comrade Lieutenant. If you take your security provisions so seriously, you and your men should be in proper physical shape. I promise you that the Afghans are. Two winters ago I spent time with a Spetznaz team that chased them over a half dozen miserable mountains. We never did catch them.” But they caught us, he didn't say. Bondarenko would never forget that ambush . . .
“Helicopters?”
“They cannot always fly in bad weather, my young Comrade, and in my case we were trying to establish that we, too, could fight in the mountains.”
“Well, we have patrols out every day, of course.”
It was the way he said it that bothered Bondarenko, and the Colonel made a mental note to check that out. “How far have we run?”
“Two kilometers.”
“The altitude does make things difficult. Come, we will walk back.”
The sunrise was spectacular. The blazing sphere edged above a nameless mountain to the east, and its light marched down the nearer slopes, chasing the shadows into the deep, glacial valleys. This installation was no easy objective, even for the inhuman barbarians of the mudjaheddin. The guard towers were well sited, with clear fields of fire that extended for several kilometers. They didn't use searchlights out of consideration for the civilians who lived here, but night-vision devices were a better choice in any case, and he was sure that the KGB troops used those. And—he shrugged—site security wasn't the reason he'd been sent down, though it was a fine excuse to needle the KGB security detail.
“May I ask how you obtained your exercise clothing?” the KGB officer asked when he was able to breathe properly.
“Are you a married man, Comrade Lieutenant?”
“Yes, I am, Comrade Colonel.”
“Personally, I do not question my wife on where she buys her birthday presents for me. Of course, I am not a chekist.” Bondarenko did a few deep knee-bends to show that he was, however, a better man.
“Colonel, while our duties are not quite the same, we both serve the
Soviet Union
. I am a young, inexperienced officer, as you have already made quite clear. One of the things that disturbs me is the unnecessary rivalry between the Army and the KGB.”
Bondarenko turned to look at the Lieutenant. “That was well said, my young Comrade. Perhaps when you wear general's stars, you will remember the sentiment.”
He dropped the KGB Lieutenant back at the guard post and walked briskly back to the
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