Chapter 59
Lieutenant Colonel Maxim Odenko ran his finger along an unfolded road map of the Altai Krai region, squinting to make out the details. Battle lights bathed everything within his command vehicle in a dull red glow that preserved the occupants’ night vision, but cast a monochromatic film over his map. He could barely make out the terrain features, not that it really mattered. He didn’t have the resources to start scouring small valleys or posting units on hilltops. He barely had enough vehicles to cover the roads adequately.
He had the three hundred kilometer stretch of Highway 380 between Novosibirsk and Barnual locked down to the best of his battalion’s ability. Sixty-three vehicles were spread along the highway at ten to twenty-kilometer intervals, covering all of the major western roads or trails they could identify using local maps and satellite imagery. A smaller number of vehicles had been dispatched along Highway M52, but the local law enforcement response from towns along the highway had been swift to respond, blocking the north-south route at Cherepanovo and Tal’menka within thirty minutes of the terrorist action against the state institute in Koltsovo. Unless the police were full of shit, there was no way the terrorists could have travelled Highway M52 quickly enough to make it through those cities before the roadblocks were established.
His bet was on Highway 380, not that he thought it mattered at this point. Unless the perpetrators had taken an hour-long nap on the side of the road, they had already cleared these roads and headed west. He’d requested permission to start moving his units along the roads they were guarding, but the request had been quickly denied pending updated intelligence. Orders from the 41st Army commander had been explicit, and in true bureaucratic fashion, it was too soon to consider a shift in tactics, regardless of the obvious.
His battalion would seal the highway from Novosibirsk to Barnual and let the 21st Motor Rifle Division and Border Guard Service barracks in Karasuk handle the border…despite the fact that the terrorist attack had taken place nearly two and a half hours earlier and the perpetrators had not been seen since the ambush outside of Koltsovo. His patience was starting to wear thin with headquarters, especially at two thirty in the morning. Sitting on this road was a waste of time, and everyone in his command knew it. Now it was apparently taking its toll on his men.
“How long since checkpoint twelve reported?” Odenko said.
A bleary-eyed lieutenant holding a radio handset answered from across the small table. “They missed the one-thirty checkin, so it’s been over an hour at this point.”
“That’s too long, damn it! I’ll hang the sergeant in charge of that group and relieve his platoon commander if we find out they fell asleep. Send that useless fuck over to check on his men. I shouldn’t have to tell him to do this! Or you!” Odenko said.
“Zulu Three this is Alpha Zulu, over,” the lieutenant said over the command net.
“This is Zulu Three, over.”
“Send one of your vehicles to investigate Zulu Two Five’s position and report their status immediately, over.”
“This is Zulu Two actual. We’re trying to raise radio contact with Zulu Two Five, but suspect communications gear issues or possible atmospheric interference, over.”
Odenko swiped the handset from the young lieutenant and responded. “This is Alpha Zulu actual. You need to quit suspecting every reason under the sun for their failure to follow orders and get someone over there to confirm what happened. I want a report within ten minutes, out.”
He heard the communications net key a few times, as the lieutenant on the other end of the line debated whether to respond. He’d closed the loop on any response by ending his transmission with “out,” which he hoped ended the conversation.
“If he says one word, I’ll call an airstrike down on his position,” Odenko said.
“Do we have air assets on station, sir?” the lieutenant asked.
His battalion master sergeant snickered from the front passenger seat as Odenko stared at the lieutenant in disbelief. “Did any air assets check in with you tonight?”
“Negative. There are no air assets. I answered my own question,” the officer said, clearly intimidated by his plum assignment to the battalion command vehicle.
“Next time answer it before you ask it!” Odenko said, noting that the master sergeant had not stopped his muffled laugh.
“Don’t laugh, Master Sergeant. It only makes me more irritable,” Odenko said.
Given the level of dysfunction he had witnessed so far, he’d have to schedule more night training for the battalion. The battalion barely received enough fuel to conduct basic daytime maneuvers, but he didn’t care if they just sat in a field and counted the stars. Mobilizing the battalion out of a deep sleep had been a painful experience he did not care to repeat. He could foresee many emergency recall drills in the upcoming months. Twelve minutes later, the radio came to life.
“Alpha Zulu, this is Zulu Two actual. Zulu Two Four reports that Two Five is not at the checkpoint, over.”
“What do you mean they are not at the checkpoint?” Odenko said, well past using proper radio protocol.
“They’re missing, sir.”
“Well, you need to find them!”
“This is Zulu Two. I’ll shift vehicles and start a search of the area, over.”
“I’m coming myself. We’re less than fifteen kilometers away. Out,” Odenko said.
This was a regular clusterfuck. He didn’t know who had screwed up at this point. Was Zulu Two Four looking in the wrong place? Or was Zulu Two Five sitting in the wrong spot, oblivious to their error…and apparently the radio? He’d soon find out.
“Kamarov, let the other vehicle know that we’re headed to Two Five’s checkpoint location,” Odenko said.
Eight minutes later, Odenko spotted a lone vehicle on the road through his night vision goggles, crushing any hopes of finding Zulu Two Five along the road. According to his handheld GPS, they were less than a kilometer from the assigned checkpoint location, so the lone vehicle had to be Zulu Two Four. Now he started to worry. He couldn’t think of any reason why they would be off the highway. He lowered himself into the hatch, out of the 65 mile per hour wind buffeting him.
“Can you confirm that’s Two Four up ahead?”
“Wait one, sir!” the lieutenant replied.
Odenko climbed back up and gripped the Pecheneg machine gun for stability against the gale-force wind created by the Tiger’s speed along the highway. A few seconds after that, Odenko saw the vehicle’s headlights flash twice.
“It’s Two Four, sir. They just flashed their lights!” the lieutenant said through the hatch.
“Got it!” he replied.
Not good. Two of his Tigers, carrying eight of his men, had vanished into thin air, either leaving their checkpoint without authorization or never arriving. He started to climb down into the vehicle to talk with the Tiger on the road, when his night vision goggles flashed bright white, effectively blinding him. He immediately raised the goggles attached to his helmet and tried to pierce the darkness with his degraded sight. The deep sound of an explosion reached him seconds later, just as his vision had cleared enough for him to determine that a fireball had erupted behind a line of trees to the east of the highway. He pulled back on the Pecheneg’s charging handle and swiveled the mount in the direction of the dissipating flame. He felt someone climbing through the hatch and looked back to see Private Second Class Marakev squeezing through.
“I got this, sir!” the private said.