Rudi lay belly down on his litter, holding a huge revolver in both hands and aiming toward the voices. Both Pelagian and Bodecia were nowhere to be seen. Jerry’s heartbeat increased and his mouth felt dry.
The summer sun beat down from a cloudless sky and mosquitoes circled round them. Sweat stung his eyes but he didn’t move. The voices were no more than fifteen meters away; he could hear boots scuffing the small rocks and dirt on the trail despite the breeze high in the willows. The constant wind wasn’t strong enough to get down to where he crouched.
Time hadn’t slowed this much for him since he had to watch an ice cube melt when he was a child. Back then he had been restricted to a chair until the ice turned to a puddle. Now he had no idea what was required of him other than staying alive.
The voices receded slightly and Jerry’s heartbeat slowed. He smiled over at Magda just as she unsuccessfully tried to muffle her sneeze.
One of the unseen voices said something short and sharp. Silence grew and Jerry’s heartbeat increased. The barrel of his .45 trembled and he wished he could stop sweating.
“Yaaaahhhhh!”
Three Russian soldiers burst through the brush, nearly overrunning them. Two held rifles at high port, the third led with his machine pistol pointed forward.
Jerry, Magda, and Rudi all shot the man with the machine pistol, who fell flat in front of them, instantly dead. The other two soldiers jerked their weapons down toward the three. Multiple shots rang out and both men lost all coordination and collapsed, dead before they hit the ground.
Silence reigned as dust motes drifted and settled.
A hoarse shout in Russian from beyond the brush: “Shout out, comrades!”
More silence.
Abruptly a heavy weapon opened up, spraying the area with large caliber rounds. Three rounds hit the dead Russian directly in front of Jerry, causing the corpse to jerk as if it felt the damage.
Somewhere out in the brush Pelagian said, “Damn, they hit me!”
“Father!” Magda yelled and started to her feet.
Jerry grabbed her arm and jerked her back down.
She turned on him with bared teeth. “What do you—”
Thick fire stitched through the brush over their heads, blowing the small trees in half with single rounds. The sharp scent of sap and cut wood joined the light haze of cordite in the air.
“We have to put an end to that one,” Rudi said with a growl. “You go left, I’ll go right.”
Before Jerry could say anything, Rudi grabbed the machine pistol out of the dead corporal’s hands and wriggled into the brush, grunting with effort. Jerry grabbed one of the fallen rifles and quickly made sure it was loaded.
“Stay here and shoot anyone who comes crawling through the brush. We’ll be on our feet.”
Magda stared at him with wide eyes. “Da.”
Jerry crawled through the dust and weeds, slowed when he came to an opening in the brush before him. This was another reason he hadn’t joined the infantry: he hated being dirty.
He stopped in front of the opening, listening intently. Panting, he heard pain being unsuccessfully suppressed.
“It’s Yamato,” he whispered and pushed through the opening.
At the side of a wounded Pelagian, Bodecia held a machine pistol, pointing at Jerry. As soon as she saw his face she aimed at the brush in front of them.
“He’s hit in the side,” she said a low, emotionless tone.
“I need the automatic weapon.”
They silently traded weapons.
“Thanks, I’ll be right back.” Jerry crawled as quietly as he could away from the couple before turning toward where he knew the enemy lurked. The heavy willows moved in the breeze and were easy for him to negotiate but he knew the top portion of the branches signaled his advance. He backed up and moved down into a small swale before stopping to rest.
The hammer of the heavy weapon followed the bullets chopping down willows wholesale, right where he had turned back. He shrieked, “Ahhh!” and hoped for the best.
The fire ceased and he immediately squirmed down the leveled path, appreciating how much the downed willows suppressed the dust. If the Russian gunner believed his cry, Rudi might believe it too, and do something foolish.
But what if the Russian didn’t believe his cry, what if he was waiting for a stupid first lieutenant to stumble through the trees so he could cut him in half?
His heart hammered and Jerry found it difficult to swallow. Heat suffused the entire universe and he tried not to think about water. Suddenly he ran out of the downed willows and stopped. With his mouth hanging open, he desperately listened for any sound beyond the bluish-green leaves screening him from the threat beyond.
The rattle of a machine gun belt carried through the dusty air. Jerry decided the gunner was reloading. He sat back on his haunches and rose to his feet, hunched over and terrified. He decided it was now or never.
He charged through the willows and into the open.
2
90 miles east of St. Anthony Redoubt
For at least the thousandth time, Lieutenant Colonel Samedi Janeki wished the Imperial Russian Army would line tank hatches with rubber or something softer than steel. His kidneys were taking a beating as the Imperial 5th Armored rumbled toward Chena Redoubt from Tetlin Redoubt.
The Russian Amerika Company could certainly profit by making the Russia-Canada Highway more travel friendly. The smallest stone in the semi-packed surface looked larger than his fist. But then his column of 30 tanks, 15 trucks and assorted other vehicles were tearing along at 15 kph, which made it impossible for his driver to avoid the larger rocks.
As his Zukhov jarred over yet another small boulder, his radioman broke in on his comm channel.
“Colonel, communication from St. Nicholas Redoubt!”
“Patch it in, Kerenski.” A click transferred him to a different frequency. “This is Lieutenant Colonel Janeki of the 5th Armored.”
“Janeki,” the voice came through scratchy, “this is Skalovich.”
“Georgi, my friend, how are you?” They had been friends for over twenty years and Georgi, a full colonel, now sat behind an impressive desk in St. Nicholas Redoubt as deputy commander of Northern Land Forces in Russian Amerika. Georgi would get a star before Janeki did.
“My health is good, thank you, Samedi. But I must make you aware of bad news.”
“I’m being replaced?”
Colonel Skalovich forced a laugh. “No, nothing like that. In fact at the moment you are irreplaceable. Lazarev and the Flash Division have been destroyed crossing the Alaska Range.”
“Destroyed, by whom?”
“The Republic of California Air Force.” Janeki could hear the disgust in his friend’s voice. “They’ve also cut the road. Now everything must go through Tetlin first.”
“Don’t worry, Georgi, the 5th Armored can handle the mission.”
“I am not finished with bad news, Samedi. Tetlin Redoubt is under armored attack from the east.”
“California again?”
“No, the First People’s Nation. They have taken the British Army out of the war and are hitting Tetlin with at least three dozen tanks. You took all our armor with you, didn’t you?”
“As ordered,” Janeki said, angry that his voice had tightened along with his jaw.
“I know those were your orders, I issued them. This FPN thing caught us flat-footed. We do have artillery and infantry there, and they are offering a stiff resistance.”
Janeki instantly felt mollified. “Do you want me to stop my advance and return to Tetlin, Colonel?”
“No. You should be linking up with your old mentor Myslosovich within twenty-four hours. He has lost his ass at Chena and will be full of doom and gloom. Turn him around and hit Chena again, we need to be as deep into Dená territory as possible when the cease-fire order comes down.”