The Sting

The narrow entrance to the cave created a stalemate.  Anyone crawling in or out would be an easy target for the men on the other side.  The rebels weren’t going anywhere as long as Emil and I were around.  We certainly weren’t going to crawl in after them.

I was not fluent in Mongolian, but I had learned some phrases.  I shouted “Buuj ögökh!” into the opening.  “Surrender!”

Demonstrating that human males are pretty much the same everywhere, the reply was “Hol ochij xuts!” In English, “Go f**k yourself!”

I would have been happy to start a fire in the entrance and slowly asphyxiate the men.  But Emil was in charge.  He told me to hike up to the ridge and wait until dawn, and report to the helicopter.  He would stand guard.  We would maintain the status quo until we received orders from the captain in charge.

The prospect of Emil trying to stay awake while he watched a hole in the ground concerned me.  Before I headed up the hill, I picked up the biggest rocks I could carry and piled them in the opening.  Then I got the noise-making trap I had triggered a few minutes before, and rigged it in between the rocks.  Unless Harry Houdini was in the cave, no one was getting out without Emil hearing them.

When I reached the knob, I put on my warm clothes.  Sunrise was still a few hours away.  Plenty of time before the radio call.  I took Emil’s pack and returned to the camp.  While he watched the cave entrance, I started a fire, made coffee, and cooked breakfast.  The hard bread, canned meat, and dried fruit did not make for gourmet cooking.  But hot food is always good when you are hungry and cold.  The smell of coffee and food had to be getting into the cave and would torment the trapped men.

We took turns eating and watching the entrance.  I hiked back up the hill and waited for dawn and the radio call.

I explained the situation to Captain Leonov.  He asked if there was anywhere in the valley where a helicopter could land.  I noted a clearing between two of the ponds.   I sent him our coordinates and hiked back down to the camp.

By the time I explained the situation to Emil, and hiked down to the clearing, I could hear the rotors of the helicopter coming over the ridge.  As I led Leonov and several others back up the hill, he told me Colonel Kashuba was on his way, his helicopter would arrive in another hour.

I couldn’t wait to get back to the camp.  Two of the men had 20 liter jerrycans, filled with Jet A aviation fuel.  I helped carry the heavy cans.

We pulled the rocks out of the entrance, and gave the men inside fair warning.  One of the helicopter crew was fluent in Mongolian and explained to them what was about to happen.  I couldn’t make out much of what was said, but I understood the rebel reply.  It was the second time that day I’d heard “Hol ochij xuts!”

Captain Leonov flipped open the lid on one of the cans and began pouring the fuel into the cave.  The fumes made my eyes water.  I imagined what it was like in the confined space of the cave. 

One flick of a cigarette lighter would end the standoff.  We could hear the men coughing and gagging.  We didn’t have to open the second can.  Between fits, they began shouting “Bid khüleelgen ögökh!”

“We surrender!”  The men crawled out of the cave.  After breathing the jet fuel, they were barely able to walk.  We handcuffed the prisoners and backed off a healthy distance.  I tossed a smoldering chunk of wood from the campfire at the entrance.   There was a fireball, then steady flames.  If anyone remained in the cave, their fate was sealed.

We marched the rebels down to the clearing.  By the time we got there, Kashuba’s helicopter had landed.  We secured the prisoners in the cabin while Kashuba and Leonov spoke.

Leonov and his men got into their craft and took off.  Kashuba told Emil and I to get a stretcher, and bring the dead rebel down from the camp.  I pulled the stretcher out of the cargo hold, and hoisted it on my shoulder.  I turned to Emil, held up my right hand, clenched in a fist.  Then extended my little finger.

I yelled, “It’s pinkie time!”  and began running up the trail.  Emil yelled “Nyet!” a couple of times then began running after me.  No one had noticed I’d changed into my light shoes while Kashuba and Leonov spoke.  Even with the stretcher on my shoulder, there was no way anyone would catch me.

When Emil made it to the camp site, I had my multi-tool around the dead man’s finger, waiting for him.  He was gasping for breath and fell to his hands and knees.  “Please Evan, I am begging you…”

Colonel Kashuba arrived.  I was surprised Emil was able to outrun him.  Kashuba had joined me many times on my early morning jogs.  He wasn’t even breathing hard. 

Kashuba looked over the scene and said to Emil, “Do not worry.  If Fireworks Boy intended to harvest the finger, he would have already done it.  This is his idea of a practical joke.”

He turned to me and said, “Corporal Sadovnichy is one of my best soldiers.  If you are responsible for giving him a heart attack, you will wear the railroad track for a year.”  He turned and began jogging down the hill.

As we carried the dead man to the helicopter, Emil told me in great detail what he would do the next time he caught me off guard.  Revenge would be his.  I did not know my friend could think such things.  I had taught him well.

His mood picked up when we got to the helicopter and we remembered to ask about Sergeant Alexeyev.  Another helicopter had been dispatched that morning, after I had made my report.  They had just picked up Alexeyev and Maslak.  The wounded man was on his way to a hospital.  By the time we touched down in Orlik, Emil was back to his usual, cheerful self.

Our actions did not go unnoticed by the rebels.  We had caught them by surprise in the first two missions.  That did not happen again.  We were dealing with ruthless, intelligent men who were experts at surviving in this harsh environment.

We returned to patrolling the mountains of northern Mongolia.  And came up empty.  The rebels were gone.  After a three-month tour without any action, the team met with Kashuba in Orlik.

The rebels had been attacking from fixed base camps out of convenience.  After we had made them pay for that, they did not repeat the mistake.

Now each attack came at a different place along the 4200 kilometer border.  They began picking targets closer to China.  In remote locations we could not get to fast enough.  Our strategy became obsolete.  We came up with a new plan.

Instead of waiting for them to pick a target, then try to catch them, we would make our own target.  We decided to set up a sting.

We began looking for the right situation.  A remote location was needed, somewhere near the border.  And a plausible reason to have assets in the area, that they would want to destroy.  We found what we were looking for in the Dzungarian Alatau mountains in Kazakhstan. 

The towns of Sarkand and Zharkent are 140 kilometers apart, on opposite sides of the mountain range.  Trade between them travels one of two ways.  On the highway, requiring a 500 kilometer detour to the north, or a dirt road that winds through the valleys of the mountains.  The narrow road crosses a number of small rivers, via rickety wooden bridges.  One of the bridges is twelve kilometers from the Chinese border.  We hoped that the remote location, the mountains, and the proximity to the border will make the new bridge we would build a target the rebels will not be able to resist.

That was the plan.  If the rebels did not take the bait, the Kazaks who lived in the area would end up with a nice, modern bridge.

Kashuba made arrangements for the construction project.  We spent the summer surveying the area.  We had finalized the plan and done all the caching and other setup, before the construction crew showed up.  The politicians in both Sarkand and Zharkent bragged about the new bridge, and a small article about it was published in Pravda.  We wanted to be sure it was noticed.

When the snow began falling that winter, the columns and girders were in the ground.  Next spring, the crew would return and finish the deck.  At this elevation and latitude, winter is too brutal for this type of work.  Stacks of materials were piled up on each side of the small river.  It was typical for construction companies to leave one or more men on site as guards.  In the previous attacks, the guards did not become aware of the rebels until there was an explosion or a fire.  By then, they were already gone.

While the construction got started, and we waited for winter, we were back in Ulaanbaatar.  We put the final touches on our plans, and kept ourselves ready for action with hikes and martial arts training.  And, more sessions for me with Lieutenant Colonel Shirinova.

I had become comfortable talking to Irina.  I wasn’t sure what psychiatrists do, so I couldn’t tell if she was doing it to me.  But after we talked, I always felt calm and clear headed.   Emil began teasing me about being in a good mood before my counselling sessions.

Emil always accompanied me to her office at the medical complex.  He waited in the lobby while we talked.  Aside from a few times in the mountains, he hadn’t been more than ten meters away from me since Kashuba tasked him with being my watchdog.

She usually didn’t schedule me at the end of the day.  The building was almost empty as Emil took up his position in a chair.  I closed the door to her office.  I knew something was different when she sat next to me.

“I have something to tell you, Evan.  The strain of being this far away from my fiancé has been too much.  He has ended our relationship.”

She paused, then a grin broke out on her face.  “Remember the day we met, in Ushmun, when I told you I wouldn’t make the first move?  I lied.”

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

“But I have caught you off guard, so we will not get in a hurry.”  She stood up and walked to her desk. 

“This evening, we will have a picnic, here in the office.  Our first date.”  She tossed a folded up blanket at me and said, “Spread this on the floor.”  She picked up a basket.  It contained a nice meal, and a bottle of wine.

“I can’t have a personal relationship with you and be your psychiatrist.  So I’m discharging you as a patient.  As far as officers fraternizing with enlisted men, I’m following orders.”  We sat on the blanket and she poured me a glass of Rkatsiteli.

Irina put a stack of records on record player and cued up Anna German.  We ate and drank to The Human Fate.

The human fate is not a fable, nor a dream

I asked, “What about Emil?  He is waiting outside and will expect me soon.” 

The human fate is just a normal dreary day

Irina smiled again. “I am a Lieutenant Colonel, a woman, and a psychiatrist.  Emil is no match for me.  We spoke about this and he will be waiting for you at the mess hall.”

The human fate carries with it sorrow and tears

After we ate, and finished the wine, we sat on the couch.  The stereo spun its way through the stack of records.  Irina curled up underneath my arm.  I watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed.  I ran my finger down her arm and hand.  I couldn’t believe how smooth her skin was.

So smile, smile then!

When the last record finished, she kissed me again, and told me it was time to go.  As I walked to the mess hall, I wasn’t sure how I had done on my first date.  But I was certain I liked it.

Emil was laughing and poking me with his finger at the mess hall.  “Hey Romeo, can I talk to you when I need advice about women?”  I didn’t have much to say on the way to the barracks.

That was the first lesson in a new branch of my education.  I had spent years learning how to grapple and perform Samozashchita Bez Oruzhiya submissions with Eastwood.  Emil was a fine wrestler and we had been sharpening our skills on each other since we met.

Irina, on the other hand, played by an entirely different set of rules.  What I had learned before did not apply to our new game.  That would not be a problem.  I was a willing student.  Irina was a good teacher.

By the end of October, it was time to return to Kazakhstan and take up positions around the trap we had laid.  The construction work was wrapping up for the season.  We split up into teams and began walking.

We were in four groups.  Emil and I were Team 1.  We and Team 2 hiked up the valley towards China.  A kilometer short of the border, the teams went in opposite directions.  We scaled up the slopes to the south, Team 2 did the same on the north side.  The 4000-meter-tall peaks would allow us a view of the valley, weather permitting.  The tree line is around 2500 meters, we made camp just inside the trees. 

During the day, weather permitting, we would hike up towards the peak and scan the valley below.  With a team on each side of the valley, there was a fair chance we would see the rebels on their way to the construction site.  Team 3 numbered four men and was stationed in the hills above the construction site. 

We were planning an ambush, and it could play out one of two ways.  If we see the rebels coming, we will let Team 3 know, and they will take up their positions and wait.  We’ll hike down to the valley and follow from behind.  When we hear Team 3’s rifle fire, we would close from the rear.  The rebels would be trapped in between.

If they escaped our notice and were able to attack the construction site, the same plan would occur in reverse.  Team 3 would radio us when the attack occurred, we would take up positions in the valley to catch the rebels on their retreat.  In this scenario, Team 3 would bring up the rear.

Either way, the rebels would be hemmed in on two sides by steep mountains, and be trapped between the two pincers of our teams.

Team 4 was the supply group.  They spent their time carrying food, fuel and other supplies to the four of us near the border.  And they maintained the radio equipment.  The walkie talkies required line of sight contact.  On the undulating slopes, you can only make contact at a distance of a few kilometers at best.  To overcome that problem, we set up a series of relay stations.  The relays needed new batteries every few days.

Last but not least was the ace we held in reserve.  The MI-24 Hind helicopter gunship stationed 60 kilometers away at Qapal.  It could reach the valley in 15 minutes.  No one could survive the Hind’s rainstorm of ½ inch diameter bullets, unless they managed to hunker down amid rocks and thick trees.  That would be the best they could do.  Which would give those of us on the ground time to close in and surround their position.

The Hind is a large helicopter.  In addition to the Gatling gun on the craft’s nose, it can be fitted with a variety of bombs, missiles and other munitions.  It easily carried the four men that composed our backup crew.  This machine is the Devil himself if you are on foot and it is in the air, hunting you. 

We felt like we were ready for anything.  We were about to find out we weren’t the only ones with a trick up our sleeve.