Endgame (The Red Gambit Series Book 7)
Page 80
“I understand your suggestion, Comrade… but wouldn’t that make getting around them easier?”
“Only if they know they’re there, Comrade General. In the last six sessions run with this general scenario, this is the place where they shake out from march order to battle order… without fail.”
Yarishlov looked at the men either side of him for input.
Both were clearly mulling over the issue.
Zorin spoke first.
“And if they shake out beforehand… and detect the minefields and go around them?”
“Hold on.”
Everyone focussed on Bailianov.
“If we advance the fields to this point, as young Harazan suggests… but we do so carelessly… so they can be seen… where would you deploy your tanks, Nikolay?”
Yarishlov had the answer already, but Zorin carefully considered his response.
“I’d be round the sides of it… both sides probably… with a view to a two-pronged assault… actually that would work better for me overall, so it’s a non-starter I think.”
Yarishlov laughed.
“I’m thinking that Edward Georgievich has something rather nasty up his sleeve. Tell him.”
Bailianov took the wooden blocks representing his rocket and gun anti-tank troops and moved them forward, following them up with a few of his infantry groups.
Zorin swore.
“Fucking hell. Remind me never to fight you for real. That’s a bitch.”
“Isn’t it just? By moving up the mines… and moving up the AT screen, we disorganise them quicker and further out, take them in this more favourable ground, and be back to our normal first line of defence long before they’re back in condition to advance.”
Both Bailianov and Harazan beamed, until Zorin threw his bucket of water on the idea.
“They’ll cry foul of course. It’s in advance of the agreed combat line, Comrades.”
Their pink-skinned commander had a glint in his eye that no-one had noticed, not even Harazan, who taken his idea to his commander before the meeting.
Yarishlov had willingly participated in the little subterfuge to bolster the younger man’s self-worth issues.
“There was an alteration to the written brief that our adversaries took with them. Did you not notice? And with your legendary attention to the smallest of matters too…”
Both colonels grabbed their copies and turned to the relevant page.
Bailianov laughed and dropped his copy on the table.
“So, you two hashed this up between you, eh?”
“Not at all. I played a small part, of course, but it was young Harazan’s idea from the start.”
“Remind me never to piss off my commander, Edward. What a bastard!”
Zorin got a curt nod by way of reply, Bailianov’s rumble of laughter making him unable to speak effectively.
Yarishlov had altered the map work relative to the upcoming mock battle. It now reflected a different ‘end of march’ line, one that fitted in with Harazan’s plans.
“Well, if nothing else, it’ll teach the pair of them attention to detail!”
They all laughed, except Kriks, who adopted a face displaying mick anger and severity.
“Fucking officers picking on the poor front line soldiery again. Lying, deceitful lot! Just to make yourselves look good. I’m disgusted by the lot of you and I’ll complain to Comrade Stalin first chance I get. He’ll sort you out!”
“Now, now, you peasant. Calm yourself or the first chance you get will be when you get off the transport to Siberia.”
The officers dissolved into laughter at Harazan’s retort, as did Kriks, once he got over the shock of being harangued by the boy of the group.
“Fuck it. What do I care? Least we’re all out of harm’s way and the war’s a million miles away. I need a drink.”
He pulled out his flask and passed it round the cheerful group.
Whilst the war wasn’t a million miles away, it was a long way off, but none of them realised that the war was coming to them, and that by the end of the following day, more of them would be dead than remained alive.
Text from rear of the paperback.
It is August 1946 and the world has fallen silent once more.
Peace.
A peace that one Alliance welcomes with open arms, savouring a real chance for the killing to end.
A peace that the leaders of another side welcome, seeing the end of combat as acceptable for another reason; so that their plans can foment and that their country might be prepared better for the new war to come.
A peace disregarded by others whose fanaticism will grant them no course of action but to continue the fight.
And a peace that yet another faction has its own ideas on and what purpose it might serve in their long-term plans.
Endgame relates the events from when the firing stopped to when Europe once again descended into a savage combat that ensured that the future of conflict on our planet would never be the same again.
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