Grand Alliance (Kirov Series) Read Online Free PDF

for the divisional artillery to come up. A
reconnaissance had shown them the Australian Brigade digging in just beyond the
pass, and they knew that they would need those guns before any attempt could be
made to storm the narrow defile.
    And so,
positions that might have proved very difficult to take if adequately defended
were all in hand by the morning of the 30th when Fedorov made his fateful
encounter with Lieutenant Reeves of the 12th Royal Lancers. They would take
that whole day to sort the situation through, but Brigadier Kinlan finally
decided to take Fedorov up on his offer to use the KA-40 to have a look around.
If nothing else, he would either prove or disprove the impossible premise he
had been led to believe. Fedorov had one final trump card to play in that game.
He thought they could have a quick look at Giarabub Oasis. If it was held by
the Italians, that would run the table. The evidence of a hostile force there
with old WWII equipment would be incontrovertible, but what they saw there was
far more than Fedorov expected.
    * * *
     
    O’Connor had been steaming like dry ice where he waited with one of
the command vehicles. The men posted with him were respectful, and followed
full military protocols as per Brigadier Kinlan’s instructions. He did not want
the man any more ruffled than he already was, and knew one question would quickly
become three then five, then seven. So he assigned a staff adjutant to see to
the General’s needs, serving tea and other refreshment, which O’Connor found
most welcome. The Earl Grey went a long way towards soothing his temper, and he
felt like a civilized man again for the first time in what seemed like many
long weeks.
    Then
the weariness of the hour, the long desert trek and fatigue overcame him, and
he drifted off to some much needed sleep on a cot set beside a large tracked
vehicle. Some hours later he awoke, finding a Sergeant Major in attendance and
ready with boiled eggs, muffins and jam, and more tea. It was very near dawn,
or so he came to feel, his instincts well honed after months in the desert. He
was grateful for the warm woolen blanket he found draped over him, as the
mornings were quite cold before the sun was up to heat the day.
    He
seemed a bit groggy for a time, yet soon remembered where he was, blinking,
bleary eyed. In spite of that, his mind was taking in everything he saw around
him, with a mixed feeling of suspicion and wonderment. He had never seen a
vehicle like this one behind him, let alone the Scimitar tanks he had
encountered earlier. Kinlan had discretely ordered the two HQ Challengers to be
moved during the night so, when O’Connor got up to stretch his legs, they were
no longer there to be seen.
    Now he
was in a circle of odd looking new vehicles, two FV432s, and a pair of Sultan
Armored Command Vehicles, which looked much like oversized light Mark VI
tankettes. One had a large vertically displayed map next to a retractable side
desk, where three men sat on a bench making notations on the map board, their
heads and ears covered with headsets that were obviously for local area radio
communications. There was other odd looking equipment about, which was actually
a battery of the 16th Regiment, Royal Artillery, a Rapier air defense system
protecting the headquarters.
    “See
here,” he said to the Sergeant Major standing by for security. “You chaps seem
to have things well wired here. Has there been any word from Alexandria?”
    “I
haven’t been informed of anything sir, but I would be happy to check with the
comm-shack.” Sergeant Dilling had been told to see to the General’s comfort,
and by all means to keep him safely where he was, and out of trouble. He had no
idea who this visitor was, or why he would be decked out in such an archaic
uniform, but he did his best nonetheless—for the third time—returning a few
minutes later to report that they had no recent communications of any note.
    At this
O’Connor exhaled, frustrated and