Grand Alliance (Kirov Series) by John Schettler Page B

like a
hunch that was gathering strength by degrees, he was starting to feel something
was not quite what it seemed to be here, and that all these men, the Russians,
Kinlan, and his soldiers in those odd new uniforms and equipment, were a bit of
a mystery that he set his mind to solve.
    How was
it that these two men could share a common understanding on all that gibberish they
were talking over? They just mentioned that Indian Sultan again, and what was
all that talk about ICBMs and nuclear bombs? And these damn tanks… That was
sixty tons I saw there last night if it was an ounce. Where in bloody hell did
the British Army get that monster I saw? Was it true that this was all new
equipment? If so, Rommel is going to get the surprise of his life.
    The
General is right cozy with the Russian Captain now, but things didn’t start
that way. These men assumed we were hostile right from the get go. The one
thing I don’t understand yet is why this Russian seemed to have to convince
General Kinlan that they were on the same side. It was as if the General had
been sleeping under a tree somewhere and knew nothing of what was going on, yet
he had to have been briefed if he was sent here with this new unit. And why did
he presume to think I was an enemy combatant at first encounter, or the
Russians, for that matter? In fact, that cheeky Lieutenant who first found us
went so far as to state we were to be his prisoners! Kinlan said the same. Was the
man blind or merely stupid? He did not seem that way.
    It just
didn’t make any sense, and it fed that growing feeling of uncertainty in his
gut. Something wasn’t quite on the up and up here. These men are not what they
seem, he said to himself. They seem like fish out of water here. Maybe it was
the harsh environment of the desert, but he had the feeling it was something
more. I’ll play along, even play dumb if I have to, but I’m going to find out
what’s up, one way or another.
     
    Chapter 6
     
    Kinlan thought long and hard about everything Fedorov had told
him. Yes, the Germans had another 200 divisions out there if they needed them.
Yes, he had every confidence he could make a difference here, but for how long?
His tanks had ready ammo of 50 rounds, and he had another 100 rounds per tank
stored with the supply train. The Warriors had 180 rounds with twice that in
reserve, and the Scimitars 160 with two reload ammo sets in train. The missile
inventories were lighter. They would have to make every round count, so the
first thing he did was brief his senior officers and tell them to pass the
word. There was trouble up north, and the brigade may soon be going into action.
There was no telling if they would ever see friendly ammo stocks again, so he
put out a standing order to make every round count and be stubborn about it.
    O’Connor
was the next problem, arriving in twenty minutes for his tour. Kinlan had one
last moment with the Russian Captain, about how the command structure would be
worked out here.
    “I know
you will think to be independent,” said Fedorov in English when Popski left
them, “but in the end we must realize we are here to advise and support British
war efforts.” He left out some articles, but he got his message across. “Their
senior officers are well known… much respected. We cannot replace them.”
    “Yet we
know every twist and turn this war will take,” said Kinlan slowly, realizing
tanks and ammunition were not the only assets he had in hand.
     “We
know what happens once,” said Fedorov, knowing he got the verb tense wrong.
“Yet things are different. Things have changed this time, and we will cause
even more to change. Yet we will not plan everything—control this whole war.
They must do that. We can only help them.”
    “I
understand,” said Kinlan. “I will do my best to support these men here, and
their officers. I swore to serve the British Army, the men under me, and the
crown and government that put them here. I guess that still