Free Survivalist - 17 - The Ordeal by Jerry Ahern

from the ridge, his German binoculars still in his hands, and his hands were shaking but not with the cold …
    Han Lu Chen spoke. “They would do it.”
    The Russian officer, Prokopiev, warmed his hands over the heater/cooker. Annie stirred warm water into a packet of food, the five of them huddled inside the German field shelter. It was dome-shaped, radar-reflective, hermetically sealed against the elements and fitted with a portable climate-control system which ran on pellets of solidified synth fuel, the combination not making them bake with the heat, but keeping the chill low enough that with sweaters on, they could move about comfortably in the confined area with their parkas off. The windchill factor outside the tent was approximately thirty-four degrees below zero Fahrenheit, if the emergency kits from the German Supers were to be believed. And, if anything, Michael Rourke thought they might be registering on the conservative side.
    Prokopiev finally spoke. “I cannot believe they would do this. I have spoken with the Comrade Colonel. He wants the nuclear weapons only so that he may threaten to use them and thus end the warfare, not to end the earth.”
    “Maybe,” Annie said matter-of-factly. “It’s hard to imagine he wouldn’t use them if he had to.”
    “But—”
    She handed the food packet to Prokopiev and looked at him as he took it from her. “Grow up, Vassily, for God’s sake! Maybe he isn’t your damned hero marshal, but he’s no saint either! Antonovitch didn’t survive as one of Karamatsov’s chief staff officers by being a goodie-goodie, for Christ’s sake!”
    “She’s right, Vassily.” Michael nodded, Maria handing him a food packet she’d made for him. He was quite capable of
    adding hot water to dried food and had been doing it for five centuries, really, the German food in taste not unlike the Mountain House products his father had so favored, identical in preparation. But Maria and Annie, or perhaps Maria because of Annie, liked to busy themselves with the domestic chores of camp, or perhaps only felt they were supposed to. He thought for a moment about Madison, his wife of so little time. She had been at her happiest when caring for him. He closed his eyes, could still see her blond hair and how it caught the light-Han Lu Chen was talking and Michael Rourke opened his eyes. “These are desperate, war-mongering people, their religion built on violence, their culture stifled, primitive, and perhaps their understanding of the true nature of the weapons which they possess so limited they cannot imagine the destruction of which these weapons are capable. Perhaps they have already begun some irreversible process.” “Madmen,” Prokopiev said, barely audible. “Yes,” Maria interjected. “Like the madmen who pushed the first button and began the war that nearly destroyed all life on this planet five centuries ago?”
    Prokopiev put his utensil in the food packet and looked at all of them in turn. “The suggestion is that we somehow seek to foil any plans for detonation the Chinese may have?”
    “Chinese of the Second City,” Han hissed. “My people long ago mastered nuclear power in all respects and would never consider such a barbarous act.”
    “There’s Paul to consider. Once he’s found Dad and Natalia,” Michael said slowly, “they may need medical help, God knows. And inside that city is no place for a woman. Prokopiev and I have been there. So has Han. If the two of you—” And he looked at Annie and Maria. “If you guys could—”
    “You mean if we helpless women were suddenly to become so capable? Bullshit!”
    “Listen, Annie, huh? If you and Maria go to the rendezvous with Paul and Otto, then get outa here, maybe—” He really didn’t know what “maybe” might be. But he was certain he would not allow his sister and/or the woman he was in love with to enter the Second City. He wasn’t enthusiastic about allowing himself to do it either. His head