The decision, however, had been made to halt the tanks before they reached Tobruk. The reasoning, according to the battalion commander, was to ensure that overwhelming combat power was available for the final, crushing attack. Saada, however, suspected that the decision by the American government to withdraw its forces had caused his government to reconsider its position. Without the presence of U.S. forces in Egypt to counterbalance the Soviet threat in Libya, it would be foolish to continue to drive deeper. The lead Soviet units, after all, were only fifty kilometers from Tobruk and little more than eighty kilometers from where his unit sat. Even traveling crosscountry, the Soviets could cover that distance in less than four hours.
Saada walked out from the circle of tanks toward the north, then paused. Looking into the empty desert to the north for a moment, he felt a great sadness in his heart. This, he thought, was probably the closest he would ever be to Tobruk. Though the city was of little value, to say that he had been there after defeating all the Libyan forces in the Cyrenaica would have been wonderful. No, he thought, the order to withdraw back to Egypt would no doubt arrive soon. Perhaps another day they would finally be allowed to destroy the enemy that menaced them to the west.
From a comer of the operations center that he had claimed as his own, Neboatov watched the proceedings. The primary staff was gathered around the map board in a tight circle. In the center was Uvarov, standing less than a meter from the board. To his right was the operations officer, to his left the intelligence officer. The chief of staff stood next to the board, completing the circle to the left, while the lieutenant colonel who was serving as liaison to Nafissi's headquarters completed the circle to the right. Immediately behind the operations officer, looking over his shoulder and that of Uvarov, was the chief of artillery and rocket troops. The logistics officer was in a similar position behind the intelligence office. They were silently studying the overlay the liaison officer had pinned to the map. Their expressions as they did so were grim, except for Uvarov's. His face was blank, betraying no emotion despite the disgust he felt.
Uvarov leaned forward to study the boundaries that Nafissi had given the Soviets for the forthcoming operation. He curled the three middle fingers into the palm of his right hand and stretched the thumb and pinky out to their fullest extent. Using his hand as a ruler, he measured the distance on the map from the center of mass of where his units were deployed to the line of departure designated for the attack in the morning. From there, he measured the distance to their first objective, then their follow-on objective. Grunting, he dropped his hand to his side and stood upright. He faced the liaison officer. "Go ahead, Colonel — please continue."
The colonel raised his notebook and began to read from where he had stopped. " 'At the direction of the commander-in-chief of Allied forces in the Cyrenaica, the Soviet North African Front will commence offensive operations commencing no sooner than 0700 hours 17 December. Soviet and Cuban forces will attack south from Ayn Al Ghazalah, south of Bir Hakeim, to the Al Jagbub-Tobruk road, and then to Al Burdi. The purpose of your maneuver is to cut off Egyptian forces now operating in our country and restore the international border.' "
The liaison officer paused while Uvarov considered the map. When he was ready to hear more, Uvarov looked the liaison officer in the eye and nodded for him to continue. " 'Under no circumstances are forces of the North African Front, including aircraft, to cross north of a line from Bir Hakeim to Bir el Gubi.' "
The liaison officer closed his notebook and looked at Uvarov. Uvarov, expecting more, looked at the colonel expectantly, then realized that he was finished. "That's all? That's the entire order?"
Understanding Uvarov's amazement, the liaison replied that yes, that was the entire order. All he had been given was the overlay that depicted the North African Front's area of operation and a quick verbal order. His questions concerning the intention and operations of Libyan forces, as well as known Egyptian locations, had been ignored. He hadn't even been allowed into the operations room where the Libyans had been working on their plan.
Uvarov was about to snap but managed to control himself. Instead he looked at the map and tried to understand what could be happening. Without looking away from the map, he ordered the liaison officer to get together with one of the assistant operations officers and draft a message to STAVKA. Uvarov paused while the liaison officer reopened his pad. "I want you to tell STAVKA what the order said, word for word. Then I want you to tell them that either they do not understand how to coordinate a major operation with an allied army, or…" Uvarov paused and considered his next remark carefully. "… Or there is something happening, or about to happen, that the Libyans are intentionally keeping from us. Regardless of the reason, I believe it is ill advised to commit Soviet or Cuban forces until the situation is clarified. I will continue to plan for the operation and commence necessary moves to comply with Libyan directives; but I will not — I repeat, I will not — cross the line of departure until STAVKA has reviewed the situation and orders me to do so."
For a moment there was silence as the officers gathered at the map stared at Uvarov. Uvarov, still looking at the map, waited for what he had said to sink in before he spoke again. Looking about the tight circle, he asked if everyone understood his position. All responded with a slight nod of their heads. "Good, now we must commence serious planning." Turning to the chief of staff, he said, "Assume that we will cross the line of departure at 0700 hours tomorrow morning and develop your options and plans accordingly. Make sure that you include a detailed deception plan aimed at the American AWACS and intelligence ships. I want you to be prepared to brief me with your initial concept by—" Uvarov looked at his watch— "by 1500 hours. Any questions?"
Having none, the staff remained in place while Uvarov walked away from the map toward Neboatov. Once the commander was gone, the chief of staff began to issue additional instructions to the planning staff.
Neboatov stood as the general approached. Upon reaching Neboatov, the general asked if he had had lunch yet. Neboatov replied that he had not. Uvarov smiled. "Good. Then come with me and we shall see if there is something around here worth eating." As they walked out, he added, "I've got to get out of this madhouse before I go insane."
After spending every waking hour for the last nine days working in the WNN offices, it felt strange to Fay to be walking around in the "real" world. It was almost as if she were visiting another planet, one that did not have phones and video recorders and wall-to-wall people screaming at each other. For the first time since the crisis had begun, Jan and Fay had left the office early. They and the rest of the staff were beginning to suffer the stress of short deadlines, long and irregular hours, missed meals, and being confined together in their cramped offices. With the tape of the interviews with homeward-bound American troops finished early, Fay recommended that she and Jan go out to dinner that night.