Malenkov paused, then shook his head. “I only saw the American military in what they called their dress uniform…”
Dolinski reached down and pulled up a light blue dungaree shirt. He tossed it to Malenkov before glancing around at the others. “Let’s do it. The starshina is right.”
Thirty minutes later, with Malenkov and Zosimoff having to trade dungaree trousers because of the length, Gromeko was satisfied the uniforms were sufficient for their mission. Even Dolinski agreed.
Then their attention focused on the map in front of them. Gromeko nodded at Dolinski.
Dolinski put his finger on the map, and as the others listened, he started to talk. As he explained the operation for tonight, he made it seem so simple that Gromeko unknowingly relaxed slightly. Knowing what was expected and seeing some prior planning improved his confidence that they would be able to do this. He knew that once American sailors hit Olongapo, the lures of the city captured their capitalistic fever. As Dolinski wound down, the GRU officer asked if anyone had questions. When none were forthcoming, he stood.
“These,” he said, pointing at the electronics, “are the most important thing for the success of our mission. I will need thirty minutes inside the telephone switching building once we get there. Your job is to see that I am not disturbed.”
“If we kill anyone, they will know—”
“Know nothing, Lieutenant Gromeko,” Dolinski finished. “People die all the time in Olongapo. What is one more death to a nation dealing death to our allies on a daily basis?”
Gromeko looked up, but said nothing.
“Nothing is the answer.” Dolinski paused. “The Americans will launch an investigation, find some guilty sailor, and send the pleading man off to prison for something he did not commit.” He shrugged, and then looked around at each of them. “But you are right in that if we kill someone or do something that draws attention to our presence, eventually someone may figure out what has happened.”
“How about your electronics?” Starshina Dimitry Malenkov asked. “Even the Americans check their systems on a schedule. They will eventually detect the additional gear you are installing.”
Dolinski sighed. “You may be right, Malenkov, but by the time they discover the equipment and dismantle it, we will have the information we want.”
“What information is that?” Fedulova asked.
Dolinski glared at the chief for a moment, and then sighed, “Not everything we will do tonight will be known to you. Some things are best unknown.”
“What does that mean?” Gromeko asked, curious.
“It means the chief — and the rest of you — do not have the need to know. Your job is to get me to the telephone switches and provide guard while I am in there.” He squatted beside the box with the electronic gear, rooting through the loose wires. “We are going to have to rewrap these wires.” He lifted a small box in his hand. “See this?” he asked, holding it up.
They nodded. Gromeko said, “Yes.” He was growing weary of this lieutenant. The sooner Dolinski was off the boat the better.
“When I finish, the lights here along the front must shine green. That will tell us the system is operational and able to transmit. So when I finish the installation, we will have to conduct the test when we return to our wet suits.”
“Why don’t you test it immediately after you install the system, comrade?” Chief Fedulova asked.
“We cannot test at the building. It has to be done from a distance. The lights will glow green near the installation, but we have to ensure a signal is transmitting when we leave. The antenna will have been wound around the wires leading from the building to the telephone pole outside. One hundred meters from the system should be sufficient to know it works.” He set the black electronic system down and wiped his hands on his dungaree pants.
“Enough,” Gromeko said. “Lieutenant Dolinski is here for his technical and engineering know-how. Our job is to get him to the building, protect him long enough for him to do his job, and then get all of us back safely to the K-122.”
It was at that moment that it dawned on Gromeko that Dolinski had never done a mission. This was the GRU lieutenant’s first. Dolinski was one of these desk-jockey intelligence analysts who for some reason get chosen to do something like this. A slight chill went up Gromeko’s back. They were going into enemy territory, where nothing would give the Americans more pleasure than to capture or kill them.
“Let’s get out of these American uniforms and get them stored in the watertight bags we are going to be carrying,” Dolinski said.
Gromeko looked around the torpedo room at the other Spetsnaz. He and his team had done a few special missions — in Vietnam. Of his team he was confident, but here they were escorting a GRU specialist onto foreign soil. Someone who was vastly overconfident and underexperienced.
Gromeko looked at Dolinski and for a moment their eyes locked. It was if the GRU officer recognized that Gromeko knew his limitations. Dolinski looked away first, grabbing one of the loose cords and wrapping it between his thumb and small finger to form a figure eight. “Wish you had not undone everything,” Dolinski muttered as he wrapped.
Gromeko looked at his watch. It was one o’clock. Lunch would still be being served for another hour. Ten hours until they would do this.
“Lieutenant Dolinski, would you go over your expectations again? Chief Fedulova and Starshina Zosimoff, we will need to add times onto the mission: How long will it take us to reach shore? How long will it take us to change out of our suits, tanks?” He nodded at Dolinski. “Your map is faint. Do you know how far from the beach the telephone building is?” He put his finger on the map. “What is the length of each of the buildings between which we are going to traverse?
Dolinski squinted his eyes for a moment. Then he shook his head. “I figure they are about one hundred meters in length. They are nothing but warehouses. All warehouses are built the same — rectangular.” Dolinski spun the map around to face Gromeko. “These two buildings near the beach are warehouses. We have to walk between the warehouses. Then there is an open space until we reach the next two buildings. At the end of those two buildings is the telephone switching building.”
“Does anyone know how long these warehouses are?”
Fedulova, Zosimoff, and Malenkov shook their heads.
“Let’s figure each warehouse is one hundred meters long by fifty meters wide.” Gromeko was guessing, but a guess was better than a complete surprise.
“These are big warehouses from the photographs I saw,” Dolinski said.
Gromeko nodded. “That may be, but we are trying to build a timetable now. Something that should have been done where there was more intelligence on which to build.” It was a remark aimed at Dolinski. Gromeko waited a second for the man to explode, and was surprised when the GRU officer instead started working on his second loose cord.
“We will have to know how long you will need to do your work, Lieutenant,” Gromeko added.
“I will need no more than thirty minutes.”
“Wow!” Fedulova said. “That is a long time.”
“It is. Lieutenant Dolinski, can you do it in a shorter period?”
“Lieutenant Gromeko, I will hurry, but not at the expense of the mission. It will do us no good for me to hurry through the installation only to discover when we reach the beach that it was flawed. For then we will have to return to the building.”
There was a moment of silence before Gromeko said, “That is reasonable. Chief, figure thirty minutes into the timetable.”