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"The air assaults on the actual crossing sites will be triggered as soon as the Third Shock Army reports a breakthrough situation."

"The timing will be critical. But you understand that."

"The enemy air defenses remain a serious threat. But their missile consumption appears to have been very high, and systems attrition favors our operations. The in-flight losses incurred by our deep assets ran just under seventeen percent. But they'll be lower tomorrow."

"Radio electronic combat?"

"Impossible to accurately gauge the extent to which the provisions of the plan have been fulfilled. Gubyshev's a busy man, though. The Operations Directorate insists he's jamming friendly nets, while Dudorov complains that he's jamming too many enemy nets of intelligence value. Then the Operations Directorate turns around and wants to know why more jamming operations aren't being conducted. The fires portion appears highly successful, but we have no tool for measuring success or failure in the electromagnetic spectrum."

"Perhaps the outcome of the war will be the only viable measure."

"Well, it's unquestionably a bit muddled. But automation has really come through for Gubyshev. He couldn't begin to manage his assets or to de-conflict frequencies with paper and pencil. And after all is said and done, Dudorov's a believer. The GRU position is that we have meaningfully impaired the enemy's ability to react on the battlefield."

"Within the contours of the plan, I trust," Malinsky said. "I'm still waiting for indications of the movement of the enemy's tactical-operational reserves to the flanks. Don't let Gubyshev queer that up.

Don't let him get carried away with a sudden sense of power. What about air-battle management? Every single one of the army commanders has complained about it. Of course, I recognize that they're bound to complain. But it appears that we're having some genuine problems."

"It's certainly a bit off track. The air force is struggling with it now.

The biggest problem is assessing the damages we've inflicted, then 156

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retargeting aircraft. Even the automation's overwhelmed. The air force representatives are attempting to put a good face on it, but I suspect there's a lot of guesswork going on. I do not believe that all of the available missions are being employed efficiently."

"Of course, we're speaking of relative efficiency. On the edge of chaos.

Think of what it must be like for the infantryman out there in the dark, Pavel Pavlovitch. And keep pounding on our comrade aviators. But not to the degree that it becomes counterproductive. So . . . what's your overall assessment of the troop control situation? From the perspective of the chief of staff."

"Better than I feared," Chibisov said. "We can communicate, although we're often forced to rely on nonprimary means. The confusion on the ground is intense. It's a matter of continuous effort. You know our antenna farm was struck earlier? We were at minimum capability for over an hour. That didn't help the effort to maintain the automated data bases. But we're back up to ninety percent now."

"They'll hit the bunker again," Malinsky said. "And again. You'll be able to measure their desperation by how often the walls shake around you."

Chibisov nodded. He felt tired. Exhausted. Yet there was so much waiting to be done. The smoke from Malinsky's cigarette snaked into his lungs, and he unconsciously touched the pocket where he carried his pills.

"Overall," Malinsky said, "we've had better than average luck. And, while I recognize that luck is a thing best reduced to a minimum in one's calculations, I know it when it touches me." Malinsky nodded at the map, having worked his way through the mental clutter of war to a level of reasonable satisfaction. "Marshal Kribov is delighted with us—his worries are all down south. The Americans are proving tough—they're so damned unpredictable. And the Germans in the south are fighting more like Americans." Malinsky paused for a moment, mouth slightly open at a troubling thought. "Yes, we've been lucky. But tonight will be our first big test. Tonight, and then tomorrow morning. If they piecemeal their counterattacks, and if Starukhin gives me a breakthrough by noon, they won't stop us until we're standing on the banks of the Rhine."

Malinsky smiled. "And they may not even stop us then."

Leonid sat comfortably in a chair by the window, belly stuffed full, dreaming of home. His assault rifle lay balanced across his thighs. The weapon reeked with the sulfurous smell of blown powder. He had not 157

cleaned the rifle since the battle. He had, however, taken the first opportunity to scrub the blood and filth from his tunic, and now it hung drying over the footboard of some stranger's abandoned bed.