There was no warning, no time for the staff of the North African Front to seek cover. In a single, terrible moment, the building that housed the headquarters, and the very ground that surrounded it, were heaved skyward as the rounds from the Kansas impacted. Only a lone Pioneer remotely piloted drone from the Kansas stood witness to the destruction of the Soviet command post. Its infrared eye watched and recorded the incident dispassionately.
Aboard the Kansas the plotting room officer, the tactical operations officer, and the ship's captain watched TV monitors. One second the thermal images of the building where the North African Front was housed sat center of screen. For the briefest moment several streaks appeared on the comer of the screen and raced for the building. Then the screen glowed white as the Mark 144ICM projectiles broke up and scattered their bomblets. When the bomblets and the HE rounds impacted, the screen went white. Before the sudden burst of heat dissipated and allowed the image to clarify, the shock wave created by the explosions of the HE rounds reached the tiny Pioneer remotely piloted vehicle, or RPV. The image on the monitor jiggled as the sailor controlling the RPV fought to regain control of his remote airplane. Once he had it stabilized, he reoriented its camera back to the building that had just been hit. He had difficulty finding it. Panning the area and decreasing the magnification so he could cover a larger area, he flew past the remains of the building on his first try. The plotting room officer called over the intercom to the RPV pilot and told him to hold the view he had. Then he ordered the pilot to scan back slowly. When the RPV's camera reached the spot the plotting room officer wanted to view, he ordered the drone's pilot to stop scanning, then to increase magnification.
As soon as the thermal image flipped on, showing the magnified scene, everyone saw what the intelligence officer had seen. There was no longer a building to find. Instead, there was a very hot spot, made by many tiny craters, surrounded by the warm spoil thrown out of them by the bomblets. Just to be sure, the plotting room officer instructed the pilot to confirm the grid they were observing. As the pilot called out the grid numbers, the tactical operations officer and plotting room officer both checked their target data.
The plotting room officer was overjoyed. "We got 'em. They be history! No one's going to make any calls to Moscow from that phone booth today."
In the strike warfare center, the tactical operations officer looked at the captain. The captain nodded his approval. "Okay — that was a lucky shot. Now let's see if you can take out their alternate command post. I want to nail that Cuban division CP before they realize what happened to the front CP."
"General Boldin, wake up. We have them."
Boldin rubbed his eyes before he opened them. When he did, they were greeted by a sky full of stars. Choking, the general threw off the blanket that someone had put over him and sat up on his cot. Awake now, he asked who it was that they finally had.
The duty officer realized the general's mind was still groggy from sleep. "The Egyptian armored unit. They passed through Taieb el Esem ten minutes ago headed southeast toward the Cuban sector. They have at least two tank battalions accompanied by artillery."
Reaching down for a canteen, Boldin thought for a moment. "Don't we know for sure? Have we received no intelligence from the front?"
The duty officer waited until the general was finished drinking before he responded. "Comrade General, we have had no contact with front headquarters, the alternate command post, or General Uvarov's forward CP since 0100 hours. We have tried all frequencies but have nothing."
Boldin looked at his watch. "General Uvarov has not arrived?"
The duty officer shook his head from side to side.
Boldin thought for a moment. Three and a half hours and no contact from any higher headquarters. On top of that, the front commander, who had been so anxious to see him and had been en route, was also off the net. It would be light in two hours — another day. He couldn't wait any longer for orders. With an enemy force moving through his rear areas, no intelligence coming from higher headquarters, and possibly no higher headquartejs, he had to make decisions. "All right, Captain, I'll be along in a minute. Tell Colonel Pospelov that we are assuming control of the battle for the front headquarters until they, or General Uvarov, come up on the net. Have him pass that word on to the 8th Division and Colonel Nafissi at Libyan headquarters in Tobruk."
The captain saluted, turned, and had started back to the command post when Boldin yelled to him to wait. Spinning about in his tracks, the captain trotted back to the general. Now that he had assumed command, Boldin needed to put out warning orders so that his subordinates could begin their planning. The young captain stood before his general while the general reviewed options available to the 24th in a mind just woken from a sound sleep.
In the end only two made sense to Boldin. They, the 24th Tank Corps and the 8th Division, could remain where they were and do nothing. By doing so, they were allowing the Egyptian 1st Army to escape, since the Libyans could not complete the encirclement themselves. In addition, their current positions were indefensible. The Egyptian armored raid, still in progress, had demonstrated that.
The other option was far more attractive and militarily sound. The 24th Tank Corps and the 8th Division could continue to the coast, seizing Solium and Halfaya Pass. Such a move would block the withdrawal of the Egyptians, put the Tank Corps and the Cuban division in more defensible terrain, and allow them to contact and coordinate operations with the Soviet Mediterranean Squadron of the Black Sea Fleet.
For a moment he considered both options, weighing and debating. The duty officer patiently waited for an order. He knew the general was hard at work, thinking, planning, debating with himself. Such matters, the captain knew, took time.
Unable to seek guidance from any higher authority, Boldin was left with his own thoughts. One thought that kept cropping up had no real tie to the current military situation. It occurred to him that for the first time in his life, he had a major decision to make, one that would influence real events. This was no theoretical exercise, no command-post training exercise. Finding himself faced with such a decision, he considered those who had gone before him, the great military men whom he had been forced to study. Like them, he was faced with the need to make a choice. Of all the generals in history he had ever studied and admired, those who had been bold and decisive stood out. The men of action, able to seize the initiative and act boldly, were inevitably the winners.
In the end his classic military training dictated the option he would select. It suddenly occurred to him that there really had never been a real choice. There was only one right answer. Boldin looked up at the young captain, standing at a relaxed parade rest. "Also tell Colonel Pospelov to issue a warning order to the Corps. All units are to be prepared to continue the attack to seize Solium and Halfaya Pass. To hell with the Egyptians in our rear, Captain. Let's continue the attack to the Mediterranean and see who flinches first."