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time together before bed time. But, ever since the meeting in Mysore, that had
all changed again. Now his schedule was extremely hectic once again, similar
to the earlier times of separation when he served in Krasnoyarsk.
As he contemplated the moves and his schedule, and as he considered the
momentous events in Siberia over the last two years& and the even more
momentous events that were soon coming, he thought to himself, Can this genie
ever be put back in the bottle?
The very question he just posed to himself only served to show him again how
difficult it was going to be for him stop almost incessantly focusing on the
import and potential consequences of his Indian trip and the meetings in
Mysore. The strain of living with the knowledge of President KP Narayannen's
plan to make direct overtures to the western allies and the probable
consequences of that plan were constantly weighing heavy on Buhpendra's mind.
Oh, make no mistake, the Ambassador to India agreed with the plan. He had
always had trepidation about the overall war plan with which they had been
involved for the last five years & not to mention his nation's precarious
alliance with China& but he had also understood the reasons for both. Now, with
the
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war fairing badly, those trepidations, and a desire for the preservation of
his country, took precedence.
I really wonder sometimes, he thought to himself as he signed a number of
requisitions, If the war effort had continued as before, with all of the
victories, would I have even entertained such a plan as this?
Gavanker was honest enough with himself to know that he wouldn t have. He also
knew that his
President also would never have considered such a notion either.
KP is acting as much out of a hope for self preservation as he is for the
preservation of the nation,
Buhpendra thought.
He is hoping that a successful break with China and alignment with America
will help him escape the war crimes trials and an injection.
But all of that speculation was pointless now. What was important now was the
hard cold reality of the plan and their commitment to it. Gavanker knew that
it was too late to turn around now, and he knew that the timetable for
implementing the actual contacts was fast approaching.
Buhpendra's part would begin the day after tomorrow, on the same day that the
back channel contact with the Americans would be made. Because of his close
former relationship to the Russian General
Andrei Nosik, who was now a Field Martial, Gavanker would be making the
contact with the Russians.
The contact would be initiated by secure, encrypted and scrambled
communications channels across
Siberia, over the front lines in the Urals, and into Russia. Buhpendra was
relying on his former knowledge of Russian frequencies when he had worked
together with Nosik who commanded the Russian security forces that protected
the coal site in Gavank, Siberia, where Buhpendra had directed the Indian
operation.
He hoped that the Russians would still monitor these frequencies and respond
to his inquiries. Buhpendra had taken several of his deputies, several ranking
cabinet members within the Siberian government, the head of Indian Security
forces defending the diplomatic team within the country and the deputy head of
Siberian defense forces in on the plan. They were all extremely dedicated and
knew their parts in initiating this communiqué and in developing the plan once
contact with the Russians had been made.
The plan Gavanker would implement in Siberia was very similar to the plan that
the Indian President would implement within India to contact the Americans.
Both Buhpendra and the President were staking everything, up to and including
their own lives and the lives of their families, on a successful contact with
the Americans and the Russians in order to devise and execute India's next
move & in order to plan for
India's exit from the CAS and its capitulation to the western allies.
It was a high stakes game& and the stakes would ultimately pay off, but for
only one of the two men.
September 21, 2010, 06:55, CST
Near the northern property line
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Lazy-H Ranch
Outside of Montague, Texas
Itwas still warm in Texas. A high pressure system that had enveloped the state
for the last several weeks had slowly moved slightly to the east, but not so
far that conditions had changed too much. Outside of a few morning low clouds,
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the skies were fair, the winds light& and the temperatures remained warm.
Here in north central Texas, as was almost always the case this time of
year& or, outside of those times when colder, dry air came barreling down from
the north& it was also humid. Moisture from the Gulf of
Mexico was perpetually funneled up across the entire eastern half of the state
when these conditions were in place, and that moisture hung in the air on
these early mornings in the bottomlands. You could almost see it& you could
certainly feel it.
Must be in the mid-eighties already, thought Jess Simmons as he continued to
work the fields with his new John Deere tractor.
Probably be over one hundred again today.
But that wasn't too bad. Jess had grown up working in Texas fields like these.
He knew that before too long, probably in early October, a norther would come
down from the north and push the warm humid air clear down into Mexico,
heralding the advent of autumn, when temperatures would moderate down into the
seventies during the days and the cool fifties at night. He always looked
forward to that time of the year.
He'd been home from the war over a year now, and he was about as healed as he
was going to get from the injuries he had sustained while fighting in Syria.
His head injuries had completely healed, or so it seemed. No more throbbing
and aching& no more sudden headaches. The doctors had worked miracles.
& and so did the faith and love of Cindy and so many others, he thought.
His leg was a different matter. It was a miracle in itself that he had not
lost it& and the doctors had brought his function and use of that leg very far
along.
But, even after all of the operations and therapy, his left leg was still
almost an inch shorter than his right, and his knee and ankle were difficult
to bend much more than about fifty percent of what would be considered normal.
The result was that Jess was forced to walk with a perpetual limp. Oh, it was
not nearly as bad as it had been a year ago& and he was able to get around
quite well. But it was noticeable, and he was certainly not capable of some of
the harder work that he otherwise was used to doing, and would be doing out
here on the ranch if he could.
I'll just have to learn to live with it, he continued to himself as the
tractor reached the northern edge of the field.
& and be grateful that I can even get out here and work at all on the place
and enjoy the beauty of the timbered hills and the Clear Creek Valley up here
near its source.
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Thinking about the scenery there overlooking the valley caused him to reflect
on the great void in his and
Cindy's life. Their lost son, Billy, who had loved this country as much as his
father and who had spent countless hours exploring it, hunting on it and
fishing in the creek.
Over two and half years ago Billy had been lost when the AZ-1H Viper attack
helicopter he had been piloting had gone down hard into the Pacific Ocean off
the Australian coast. Having seen the video of that crash countless times& and
having been an attack helicopter pilot himself, Jess knew that the chances of
his son surviving that crash, especially since it had occurred out to sea as
the allies were in a headlong retreat, were nil.
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