“Mercenaries,” the lieutenant said flatly.
“That’s one description,” Riordan said.
“Have you just come from St. Anthony Redoubt, Major Riordan?”
“No. We decided the times are too contentious to risk startling a garrison that could do us major harm. We went around it.”
“Where, exactly, are you going?”
“The village of Klahotsa, up on the Yukon.”
The lieutenant’s pistol slid partway out of its holster. “You’re joining the Dená and you think we’re going to allow that?”
Riordan quickly held both hands out in front of his chest.
“No. In fact we’re on our way to fight the Dená. Could I please speak to your commanding officer? I would like to explain our situation only once.”
Without taking his eyes off Riordan, the lieutenant lifted his left hand and cocked his index finger. One of the two soldiers ran to his side.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“My compliments to the general. Tell him we have encountered a group of mercenaries, strength unknown, whose leader wishes to speak to him.”
“Yes, Lieutenant!” The soldier turned and ran back to the scout car. As soon as he crawled in, the car turned in the middle of the road and raced toward an approaching dust cloud. The second soldier stood with his weapon ready, but no longer pointing at them.
“I heard there was a big battle up north,” Riordan said. “How’d it go?”
“How did you hear of any such battle?”
“We had radios,” he jabbed a thumb toward the aerial on the command car. “We eavesdropped.”
“You what?”
“We listened in.”
“Then you know what happened at Chena, don’t you?”
“Not completely.”
“Ask the general.”
Riordan wished he had the lieutenant in his outfit. The man was a real hard-ass.
“Where are you from, your home town, I mean?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Good enough.” Riordan realized the lieutenant would be hostile no matter what he did, so he just waited. The minutes seemed to stretch into hours but a quick glance at his Swiss watch showed it had only been ten minutes since the scout car left.
Private Oldre eyed the lieutenant with an unmilitary scowl.
So much for diplomacy, Riordan thought.
A high-powered, luxury sedan approached at a high rate of speed.
This would be the general.
The limousine stopped within a foot behind the soldier and the driver jumped out and opened the back door. The general took his time, his lack of speed due more to his corpulent body than anything else. He squared his shoulders and then dropped back into a slouch as he moved forward, idly slapping his thigh with a riding crop.
“What’s this all about, then?”
Riordan snapped to attention and gave the general a perfect parade ground salute, rigidly holding it until the general returned with his own half-hearted wave. “Good afternoon, General. I am Major Riordan of the International Freekorps.”
“Hmm, yes. I am General Myslosovich of the Imperial Russian Army. Exactly what are you doing here, Major?”
“Attempting to get to my new place of employment: Klahotsa on the Yukon.”
“That entire area is held by the Dená Separatist Movement, a terrorist group in rebellion against the Czar of Russia. Any aid to them is a crime against Russia.”
“My employer, Mr. Bachmann, is loyal to the Czar and wishes to hold his part of the Yukon free of the Dená rebels. We have been hired to assist him.”
“Bachmann? Never heard of him,” Myslosovich said with a shake of his head. “Until we can verify this person’s existence, let alone his political position, I’m afraid we’ll have to sequester you and your men.”
“What if we don’t agree to that, General Myslosovich?” Riordan said in a hard voice.
“You have no choice! We could annihilate you in moments—”
“Begging the General’s pardon,” Riordan interrupted, “your people seem to be incredibly disorganized. My scouts tell me that your column is in disarray, which coincides with our interpretation of your radio messages of a few days ago. In short, General, you are in retreat and in no shape for a fight.”
The lieutenant bristled, pulled his pistol from his holster but kept it pointed at the ground. “Say the word, General Myslosovich, and I’ll shoot this man myself.”
The general held his hand up. “He has a point, Lieutenant Andreanoff, much as I hate admitting the fact.”
“Perhaps we can assist our employer by assisting you, General?” He turned his head to the side and told Oldre, “Tell the column to advance.”
Myslosovich turned to his driver. “Bring the column forward, now.”
While Oldre spoke into a radio, the driver turned the heavy automobile and drove away.
“I mean no threat,” Riordan said. “I just want you to see what we have to offer.”
General Myslosovich gave him a thin smile. “I’m sure. And by the same token I would like you to see how much in disarray my column might be.”
Behind him, Riordan could hear his people and machines moving up. Ahead, he could see the Russian column advancing with all the implacability of a glacier.
A higher engine whine cut through the massed cacophony of the two armies.
“Here comes that plane again, Major Riordan,” one of his men yelled. “Looks like it means business this time.”
“Track it,” the General commanded. The two commanders stood next to Myslosovich’s command car. Riordan nodded to General Myslosovich. “I suggest you have your crews prepare for attack, General.”
“From a venerable old bird like that? Besides, she has Imperial Air Corps markings.”
“Are you in contact with the Tetlin column?”
“No. We are traveling without communication at this point. ROC fighters destroyed our radio truck, and all of our field units have depleted their batteries. Even our tanks cannot communicate; many lost their antennae in the battle and the one that didn’t lose its antenna has a broken radio. It is all very vexing!”
“So you have no idea if that plane is friend or foe.”
Myslosovich grinned. “We’ll know soon, won’t we?”
The shriek of bullets abruptly ripped past their ears, tearing up ground, the command car, and some hapless soldiers, all before the sound of the plane’s guns reached them.
“Damn!” Myslosovich screamed, diving behind trees bordering the road.
The column fired back and, from his position next to the general, Riordan saw pieces of the plane shred into the air. But it roared overhead without a single cylinder missing a beat and curved away to the north. The aircraft buzzed into the distance and the sound faded.
Riordan turned to the fat old man hiding behind the trees.
“Well, you certainly called that one. What’re your thoughts on the next tank or APC we encounter? Friend or foe?”
Myslosovich pulled himself to his feet and presented a baleful look. “How dare you speak to me like that. I could have you shot!”
Riordan glanced around. “No, I think not. What I do think, however, is that you need me a lot more than I need you.”
“To what end?”
“You’re running around here like you own the country, no scouts farther out than ten minutes, no attempt at discipline, stragglers from here to hell and gone. Have you mustered your people since the battle? Do you have any idea how many men you have left?”
“That’s staff work! Do you think I am some sub-private with nothing better to do?”
“No, I think you’re a politician in uniform. You have no concept of how much trouble you are facing and yet you’re sure of victory. You’re retreating, General, retreating!”