“Enough,” Palcikas said sternly. He raised the muzzle of his pistol and released the hammer. It had grown quiet enough around that spot that the click of the hammer being lowered was clearly audible. None of the other Lithuanians moved; neither did the Marines.
“General Palcikas, what do you think you’re doing?” Snyder asked. “I gave an order. These men belong to me.”
“My English poor,” Palcikas said, “but this man”—he pointed to Ormack with his Makarov pistol before holstering it—”is general officer, no? He gives orders. You obey.”
“Not in this operation,” Snyder said. “In this operation, I’m in command.”
“You in command of Marines. These men not Marines. You in command because he say you in command, because you kvaliflzsiravany rabochiv, spitsialistaf commando soldier. Now, he gives orders. He superior officer, direktaram. You obey.”
“Listen, Snyder,” Ormack said. “You’re trying to get out because you’re afraid of getting clobbered here. I understand that. You guys are special ops, and you got no odds in your favor so the best thing for you is to get the hell out. Well, we’re not commandos like you. We’re scientists and engineers and crew dogs. We’ve got to see that bomber.”
“You’re not safe here,” Snyder insisted. “Can’t you bastards see that? The Soviets can overrun this base in an instant.”
“Yes, they can,” McLanahan said, “but they haven’t. They want this facility intact. General Palcikas said that ground units from Darguziai and Smorgon are on the way, and tonight or tomorrow the battle will be on. That means we have time to examine that stealth bomber.”
“My orders are to take REDTAIL HAWK and the classified material.”
“I know what your orders say, Captain,” Ormack said, “but this is totally different. I’m amending your orders. I’m a general, and I say Briggs, McLanahan, Luger, and I stay and examine the bomber—”
“And I say you will follow my direction or—”
“I’m giving you a legal order, Captain,” Ormack said sternly. “I’m a brigadier general of the United States Air Force. You’re a captain in the United States Marine Corps. I’m giving you an order.”
“You are not authorized to issue orders, Ormack,” Snyder said. “And keep your voice down. You can’t reveal any names here.”
“You will not speak to me like that, Captain,” Ormack said in a loud voice.
McLanahan looked on with complete surprise — they had never seen or even imagined John Ormack throwing his rank around like this!
“You will address me as ‘sirs or ‘general’ from now on, and you will obey my orders or I’ll prefer charges against you upon our return. You may think otherwise, but if you try to disobey my orders I’ll see to it that you spend the next ten years in prison.”
Snyder was too shocked to say anything for several seconds. He tried his best to think of something, anything, to retain his control of this operation, but nothing was happening. Ormack was a general, despite being nothing more than a passenger on this mission from day one. Snyder and his men could risk their lives getting them out, only to have their careers ruined in a court-martial. “What are you doing, General?” Snyder asked, hopelessly frustrated. “Why are you doing this …?”
“The damned Marine Corps has done a good job making me feel like a second-class citizen in the past few weeks,” Ormack went on angrily. “I know I can’t run twenty miles, shoot an M-16, run obstacle courses, or kill someone with my bare hands like you guys can. In that time you made me feel inferior, even unworthy to wear a uniform. But all that doesn’t mean that we suspend military discipline, the Constitution of the United States, and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Your insubordination will end right here, right now.”
“Insubordination!” gasped Snyder.
“Captain Snyder, I order you to take your men, your casualties, and those four bags of classified material and make your way via the fastest and the safest way you can devise back to the American Embassy,” Ormack said, “where you will report to Ambassador Lewis Reynolds and give him a full report on your assigned mission and our activities here. Now, what’s it going to be? Are you going to obey my orders or are you going to disobey them?”
“I can make a call to the embassy,” Snyder said. “They can patch me in to General Kundert or General Lockhart.”
“Then do it if you think you have the time,” Ormack said. “In the meantime I’ve given you your orders. Carry them out.”
Captain Edward Snyder, USMC, was practically dizzy from the confusion and surprise. Like a fistful of fine sand slipping through his fingers, it seemed as if his entire world was slipping out of his grasp. Gunnery Sergeant Trimble could not believe it when Snyder hesitated without saying a word. “Captain, you are in charge of this mission!” he said. “Tell these guys to get in line or I’ll—”
“Oh, shut up. Gunny,” Snyder said. He looked at Ormack with pure hatred in his eyes. “I’ve got my damned orders from the General here.”
“I can call the embassy, sir. We’ll get orders from headquarters — hell, we’ll get the Commandant himself on the line.”
“No, I said. We’re going to follow orders. Mount up and let’s get out of here.”
“But, sir—”
“I said mount up, Gunny,” Snyder snapped. He stepped toward Or-mack, glared at Briggs and McLanahan, then stared Ormack directly in the face and said disgustedly, “I’m sick of you three. I’m tired of dragging you halfway around the world and risking my life so you three can play hero. I have just one request. A lot of good Marines risked their lives so you can come out here and play army. If you make it back alive, you will attend their funerals, kiss their widows and mothers, and pay your respects to them. No celebrating, no partying. All three of you. You say thank you to the Marines who got you here.”
“We’ll be there, Captain,” Ormack said, staring dead-on at Snyder. “Now get out of here.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Snyder replied, his voice dripping with disgust. He saluted Ormack, his lips drawn into a tight grimace, his left fist balled at his side. Ormack did not return the salute. Snyder turned and walked away, his men falling in behind him.
The place felt very empty and quiet as the group of Marines headed off — until General Palcikas unexpectedly slapped Ormack on the shoulder and said with a broad smile, “Good job, General! I knew you be good leader! Generals must take command. Good job! We go look at strange Soviet bird now.”
“We can do more than that,” Luger said. “We can fly it out of here.” Heads turned toward Luger in surprise. McLanahan asked, “What? Is that true? Will it fly …?”
“I’ve flown Tuman at least eight times… uh, that I can remember,” Luger replied. “Sure, it’ll fly.” He looked at Snyder, then at Ormack, then at his friend and longtime partner, Patrick McLanahan, and grinned. “If they got any weapons still stashed here, we can even launch a few missiles and drop a few bombs.”
“Then let’s get over there,” Ormack said, rubbing his hands together. “It’s about time that we get out of these infantry duds and get our asses back into the air.”
SIX