Red Army

"We must refocus our efforts slightly," Malinsky went on. "You told me earlier about the problems with prisoner transport. But you sounded proud of the problems, Pavel Pavlovitch, you truly did, because you solved them with your usual efficiency." The old man smiled slightly.

"What good are prisoners to us? We need to watch them, feed them, move them, even protect them. And we haven't time. Much better to have hostages." Malinsky pointed at the map with a nicotine-stained finger. "There. Hannover. And the entire area still held by the German operational grouping. That . . . is a collection of hostages on a nuclear battlefield. Let them dare toss nuclear bombs at us. No, Pavel Pavlovitch, we must insure that our commanders do not tighten the more critical nooses too snugly. We must leave the bypassed or surrounded enemy forces just enough spatial integrity to make them prime targets. And drive them into the cities. NATO military units and formations backed up into German cities, that's what I want. Then let them rattle their nuclear toys."

Chibisov had never heard quite this tone in Malinsky's voice. Even in Afghanistan, where the demands of military operations and the perva-siveness of small brutalities had not brought out the best in men, Malinsky had seemed above the rest of them—a soldier, but with no special lust for killing, no trivializing callousness. Chibisov realized that he had, in fact, considered Malinsky essentially a warmhearted man, one who loved his profession and his soldiers, and who adored his wife and son. To Chibisov, Malinsky had come to personify the goodness of Russia, the possibilities latent within the frustrating Russian character.

Now, to hear him speak so coolly of replying to any future NATO nuclear strikes by methodically destroying German cities and military forces that had ceased to pose an operational threat, Chibisov again felt his own baffling difference from all of them. He realized that he had, indeed, underestimated what it meant to be born a blood Russian.

282

RED ARMY

"I do not want to precipitate a nuclear exchange, if one can be avoided," Malinsky went on. "We all have enough blood on our hands.

But should it become apparent that our enemy will resort to such a course, he must be preempted. He cannot be allowed to strike first. It's no longer a matter of political bantering and competing for the international limelight. I want you to begin preparations—with an appropriate level of discretion. Have the nuclear support units move to the highest readiness level. Wake up our friends from the KGB and have them visit me. We will begin to put our formal mechanisms into motion. I will tell you, though, Pavel Pavlovitch, that I expect the devolution of nuclear targeting authority as soon as it becomes apparent that NATO is seriously preparing for a nuclearization of the battlefield." Malinsky picked up his shoulders, regaining his usual erectness in his chair. "Meanwhile, see that the reconnaissance strike apparatus is reorganized to exploit nuclear targets. I do not want an atmosphere of rumor and panic. Employ the strictest security measures. But release the commander's reserve of missile troops. Let Voltov position them as he sees fit, but make sure he understands the psychological-political dimensions of the problem, as well as the purely military considerations. We'll see what our chief of missile troops and artillery is made of."

"Comrade Front Commander, I'm afraid we may all see what we're made of."

Malinsky smiled. His voice returned to the normal, vastly more personable tone to which Chibisov had become accustomed in their private exchanges. "Personally, I do not believe the battlefield will turn nuclear. It's too late. They waited too long. They would have had to reply immediately with nuclear weapons in order to stop us. They were fools.

And we may be thankful for it." Malinsky sat back in his chair. He turned his face from Chibisov to gaze at the map again. "You know, I suspect that I have always undervalued the essential brilliance of the Soviet system. I became preoccupied with the endless problems, with the imperfections. It's easy, of course, to discount the system because of its obvious inefficiencies—perhaps the only thing of which I have never found a shortage." Malinsky laughed. It was a special, heartfelt laugh that he employed only when he was laughing at himself, at his own folly, and it was not shared with many other human beings. "Yes, inefficiency may be the only item that has never been in short supply within our Soviet state. But in the end, we are too easily taken in by superficialities. We condition ourselves to be cynical, to see only the inefficiencies, while our opponents are masters of the superficial accomplishment. We even came to question the system's central focus, one might say its preoccupation, 283

Ralph Peters