Deep Lie Read Online Free Page A
drink.
“Of course, I know all you have just told me, and a great deal more. I know that your parents were both physicians, and that your father was decorated for his resistance against the Nazis, that your mother was also a talented painter. I know that you had a place on the 1976 Olympic sailing team in single-handed Finn dinghies but that you suffered a compound fracture of your left thigh when struck by a taxi in Leningrad and were unable to compete. In fact, as you must have surmised, I know just about everything about you, or you would not be here now.”
“Thank you for your trust. Comrade Colonel,” Helder replied.
The colonel’s eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, you have not yet won my trust, Helder, merely my interest.” He smiled.
“Still, it is a serious interest, and having read your record, I have little doubt that you will do well here.”
“Thank you. Comrade Colonel.”
“Now, Helder, perhaps you would like to know a little about this place and what you will be doing here.” The colonel rose and began to walk idly about the room as he talked.
“I command here and… elsewhere. This is a SPETSNAZ installation, but perhaps you had already realized that.”
Helder had not realized it, although there had been clues aplenty, and a dual twinge of excitement and fear jolted him. SPETSNAZ, the naval special forces, was a closely guarded secret, even within the Soviet navy. All Helder knew about it was that it was an elite force, drawn from the finest examples of Soviet youth, scholastically and athletically, both men and women. Rumor had it that they were trained to do all sorts of dirty work, and that, although the service was, in theory, an arm of the navy. control of it was exercised, at least in part, by the KGB.
Majorov went on.
“Each of the four fleets. Northern, Pacific, Baltic, and Black Sea, of course, has its own diversionary SPETSNAZ subunits, but here, in Liepaja. we are a special brigade, made up of personnel drawn from subunits in all the fleets.” Majorov leaned forward.
“What we are here, one might say, is the creme de la creme de la creme of all the SPETSNAZ subunits.”
Helder was impressed and tried to look it.
“Your transfer here does not mean that you are now SPETSNAZ.” Majorov continued.
“You are still carried on the rolls of the northern submarine fleet, although for some hours, now. you have been carried as a captain, third grade. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Comrade Colonel.” Helder was nearly overwhelmed. The position of submarine commander carried a maximum rank of captain first grade, and he had already been too long in grade as a senior lieutenant. Now he had skipped a rank; captain third grade was the equivalent of full commander in western navies. He had caught up and surpassed nearly all of his classmates in a single promotion. Not only that, but he had been given the promotion at the beginning of his assignment, which was unheard of.
“You are also listed as a division commander,” Majorov said.
Holder’s heart went wild. A division meant nuclear subs. Diesels were grouped in brigades.
“But we will not use rank here. nor will we address each other as ‘comrade.”
” Majorov said.
“You may continue to address me as ‘colonel’ and as ‘sir.” but all others you will address by surname. When you get to know your fellow officers well enough to address them by their first names, you will not employ the patronymic. I hope that is clear; it is very important.”
“Yes, Colonel.”
“About two thirds of your colleagues here speak Swedish and English, as you do; the remainder speak only English and, perhaps, another European language. You will conduct all your training and personal conversations in English, except in those few cases where our instructors speak only Russian. It is most important that you continue to refine the American character
“Of course, I know all you have just told me, and a great deal more. I know that your parents were both physicians, and that your father was decorated for his resistance against the Nazis, that your mother was also a talented painter. I know that you had a place on the 1976 Olympic sailing team in single-handed Finn dinghies but that you suffered a compound fracture of your left thigh when struck by a taxi in Leningrad and were unable to compete. In fact, as you must have surmised, I know just about everything about you, or you would not be here now.”
“Thank you for your trust. Comrade Colonel,” Helder replied.
The colonel’s eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, you have not yet won my trust, Helder, merely my interest.” He smiled.
“Still, it is a serious interest, and having read your record, I have little doubt that you will do well here.”
“Thank you. Comrade Colonel.”
“Now, Helder, perhaps you would like to know a little about this place and what you will be doing here.” The colonel rose and began to walk idly about the room as he talked.
“I command here and… elsewhere. This is a SPETSNAZ installation, but perhaps you had already realized that.”
Helder had not realized it, although there had been clues aplenty, and a dual twinge of excitement and fear jolted him. SPETSNAZ, the naval special forces, was a closely guarded secret, even within the Soviet navy. All Helder knew about it was that it was an elite force, drawn from the finest examples of Soviet youth, scholastically and athletically, both men and women. Rumor had it that they were trained to do all sorts of dirty work, and that, although the service was, in theory, an arm of the navy. control of it was exercised, at least in part, by the KGB.
Majorov went on.
“Each of the four fleets. Northern, Pacific, Baltic, and Black Sea, of course, has its own diversionary SPETSNAZ subunits, but here, in Liepaja. we are a special brigade, made up of personnel drawn from subunits in all the fleets.” Majorov leaned forward.
“What we are here, one might say, is the creme de la creme de la creme of all the SPETSNAZ subunits.”
Helder was impressed and tried to look it.
“Your transfer here does not mean that you are now SPETSNAZ.” Majorov continued.
“You are still carried on the rolls of the northern submarine fleet, although for some hours, now. you have been carried as a captain, third grade. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. Comrade Colonel.” Helder was nearly overwhelmed. The position of submarine commander carried a maximum rank of captain first grade, and he had already been too long in grade as a senior lieutenant. Now he had skipped a rank; captain third grade was the equivalent of full commander in western navies. He had caught up and surpassed nearly all of his classmates in a single promotion. Not only that, but he had been given the promotion at the beginning of his assignment, which was unheard of.
“You are also listed as a division commander,” Majorov said.
Holder’s heart went wild. A division meant nuclear subs. Diesels were grouped in brigades.
“But we will not use rank here. nor will we address each other as ‘comrade.”
” Majorov said.
“You may continue to address me as ‘colonel’ and as ‘sir.” but all others you will address by surname. When you get to know your fellow officers well enough to address them by their first names, you will not employ the patronymic. I hope that is clear; it is very important.”
“Yes, Colonel.”
“About two thirds of your colleagues here speak Swedish and English, as you do; the remainder speak only English and, perhaps, another European language. You will conduct all your training and personal conversations in English, except in those few cases where our instructors speak only Russian. It is most important that you continue to refine the American character
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