"Me, too," the colonel agreed. He didn't even think about reaching for his revolver. He counted at least eight men, and they all seemed to be carrying rifles. They converged quickly on the two Americans.

"Wer sind Sie?" a voice asked.

"Ich bin Amerikaner," Ellington answered. Thank G.o.d-they're Germans. They weren't. The shape of the helmets told him that a moment later.

s.h.i.+t! We've come so close!

The Russian lieutenant examined his face with a flashlight. Strangely, he didn't take Ellington's revolver. Then something even stranger happened. The lieutenant flung his arms around both men and kissed them. He pointed west.

"That way, two kilometer."

"Don't argue with the man, Duke," Eisly whispered. As they walked off, the Russian eyes were a physical weight on their backs. The two flyers reached friendly lines an hour later, where they learned of the cease-fire.

USS INDEPENDENCE.

The battle group was heading southwest. In another day they would have been in position to hit the Russian bases around Murmansk, and Toland was going over estimates of Russian fighter and SAM strengths when the recall order came. He closed the folder and tucked it back in the security cabinet, then went below to tell Major Chapayev that they would indeed live to see their families again.

NORTH ATLANTIC.

The C-9 Nightingale hospital plane cruised southwest also, heading for Andrews Air Force Base outside Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. It was filled with Marine casualties from the last fighting on Iceland, one Air Force lieutenant, and a civilian. The plane's crew had objected to the civilian until a two-star general of Marines explained to them over the radio that the Corps would take it as a personal matter if anyone took the lady away from the lieutenant's side. Mike was awake most of the time now. His leg needed further surgery-the Achilles tendon was torn-but none of that mattered. In another four and a half months he'd be a father. After that they could plan a child of his, too.

NORFOLK, VIRGINIA.

O'Malley had already flown to the beach, taking the reporter with him. Morris hoped the Reuters correspondent would be able to file his last story on the war before he moved on to something else-an after-the-war story, no doubt. Reuben James had escorted the damaged America to Norfolk for repairs. He looked down from the bridge wing at the harbor he knew so well, mindful of the tide and the wind as he docked his frigate. One part of his mind pondered by itself What It All Meant.

A s.h.i.+p lost, friends gone, the deaths he had caused, and those he had seen himself . . .

"Rudder amids.h.i.+ps," Morris ordered. A puff of southerly wind helped Reuben James up to the pier.

Aft, a seaman tossed a messenger line to the men on the pier. The officer in charge of the special sea-detail waved to a petty officer, who keyed the announcing system.

What It All Means, Morris decided, is that it's over.

A crackle of static emerged, and then the petty officer's voice.

"Mooring."

Novels by Tom Clancy.

THE HUNT FOR RED OCTOBER.

RED STORM RISING.

PATRIOT GAMES.

THE CARDINAL OF THE KREMLIN.

CLEAR AND PRESENT DANGER.

THE SUM OF ALL FEARS.

WITHOUT REMORSE.

DEBT OF HONOR.

EXECUTIVE ORDERS.

RAINBOW SIX.

THE BEAR AND THE DRAGON.

RED RABBIT.

THE TEETH OF THE TIGER.

SSN: STRATEGIES OF SUBMARINE WARFARE.

Created by Tom Clancy.

TOM CLANCY'S SPLINTER CELL.

TOM CLANCY'S SPLINTER CELL: OPERATION BARRACUDA.

TOM CLANCY'S SPLINTER CELL: CHECKMATE.

TOM CLANCY'S SPLINTER CELL: FALLOUT.