Body Count by James Rouch Page A

expecting a lot of men who -are not used to working like that.” Revell was thinking of the hastily formed police SWAT teams that would shortly be going into action against the paratroops.
    “I know. I'm spelling it out to them that with two columns pushing into the centre, and with hunting groups already at work there, we've the ingredients for more than a few home-goals. Lose control, and it'll be a disaster.”
    That was one hell of an understatement, Revell knew. The first stage of the operation would soon be underway. Civil defence teams were making ready to lead to safety the masses who had taken shelter in the subway stations.
    It was a daunting task, fraught with difficulties. The only factor that made even its contemplation feasible was that with each team there would be U-bahn maintenance staff.
    Stage two was far more risky and complex. From the north the garrison troops, and from the east a mixed force of armed police and airport security staff, would have to push steadily in towards the city. As they came, they would have to evacuate every shelter and send the civilians back along the route they had, hopefully, cleared of snipers.
    The columns would radio when they encountered serious opposition. Where they couldn't go around, attack teams would endeavour to eliminate the obstructing paratroops by direct assault.
    Both columns would be able to deploy some light armour, in the form of armoured cars and personnel carriers. Their heavy machine guns and cannon would he invaluable for scouting and close support.
    If the Russian paratroops had anti-armour capability though, the usefulness of armoured vehicles in street fighting would be severely limited. With thousands of hiding places for ambush teams in every street, a rocket-propelled grenade into their vulnerable side armour would turn them into fiery death traps.

    TEN

“You manage to get in touch with your men, Major?” Stadler groped in the pockets of the jacket draped over the back of his chair. He fished out cigarettes and a lighter.
    “I'll be rejoining them shortly.” Revell slipped on a flak vest Ackerman had found for him. “And I'll be glad to. There are too many high-powered staff officers here for my liking.”
    “Mine as well.” Stadler lifted his eyes to the ceiling in pained resignation. “The generals didn't like being told that the operation was staying strictly under civilian control. A few of them I thought I might be forced to lock up out of harm's way. It is possible I still might. I feel they are plotting.”
    “Have you been able to contact the main police communications room yet?” Revell was aware that during their conversation Stadler had been half-listening to the operator who was trying line after line and channel after channel.
    “No, I am afraid the headquarters will have been an early target. At this time of night, there will have been only forty staff members on duty. But we can carry on from here for the moment.”
    “What about the men who were actually on the streets?” Stadler toyed with the lighter, flicking it to produce a tall flame. “I can reach about half of those who were on duty. When the sirens sounded, they would have stayed above ground. They would have been easy targets for the Russians, alone on the streets.”
    “They might just be pinned down. They're not necessarily casualties.” “Foot patrols and car crews all have radios. If they were able to, they would use them.” Keeping the flame turned up, Stadler watched it absently. When finally it died to nothing, he pocketed it without lighting his cigarette.
    “It is the manpower situation that is most worrying. After forming SWAT teams, those officers I have left are being spread far too thinly. Some are on standby to attach themselves to the columns as they approach. I have to dispatch most of them to man roadblocks as far out from the centre as I can. As the morning goes on, a torrent of vehicles will converge on the city. Not all will be