“We still have that heritage; we will fight anyone who tries to conquer us.” She shrugged. “We might not win, but we will fight!”
Many delegates laughed but all paid close attention.
“We are here to see if we want to join you in this republik thing. Our peoples have more in common with each other than we do with the Russians, or Californians, or the Japanese. We must build a nation of strength and this will not be an easy thing to do.
“So let us begin as equals. You have impressed us by choosing General Grigorievich to be first speaker of this thing. I have great hope for all of us.”
She sat down and all the other delegates stood and applauded.
Grisha waited for the delegates to quiet before he spoke.
“Next question?”
Slowly the delegates came to know one another.
101
Klahotsa on the Yukon
“We thought we’d find you here, Major,” Private N’go flashed his sharp smile.
Riordan grinned widely at the six men. The guards had brought them in minutes before. All six were armed and seemed to be in good condition.
“You remembered where we were going before getting messed up in the Russian thing. Very good, I’m proud of all of you. Your timing is excellent. Mr. Bachmann and I have come to an agreement and the thing I needed most was trained cadre. And here you are!”
Private Dierks nodded at N’go.
“N’go got us here in one piece, even caught food so we could eat.”
“Thank you, Rudy, I appreciate your input.” Riordan looked at N’go fondly. “Why did I bust you to private the last time?”
N’go scratched his bald head. “Damn if I remember, Riordan. Why?”
“I couldn’t remember either. Well, you’re a lieutenant again. The rest of you are sergeants. We have people to train.”
N’go grinned. “First lieutenant or second lieutenant?”
“First lieutenant, you’ve earned it.”
“How many people do we have to train?” Sergeant Dierks asked.
“So far we only have sixteen. But I want to train them first to be assassins and snipers, so this is going to be intense.”
“And brutal,” First Lieutenant N’go said with a wide smile.
“The lieutenant is correct.” Riordan nodded toward the door. “Let’s go meet the trainees, shall we?”
102
Yukon River between Tanana and Klahotsa
Dená Army Sergeant Sergi Titus used the shaft of the “kicker” motor to steer the twenty-foot aluminum riverboat as it drifted downstream with the current. Four fishing poles angled off the boat, two to a side, and their lines cut tiny wakes on the rolling Yukon River. The main motor, a 40-horsepower Swedish Evenrude, was tilted forward and locked down so the shaft and propeller didn’t touch the surface of the brown river.
Not a single cloud marred the bright sky. A constant warm breeze wafted over them, carrying the scent of fir trees and blossoming flowers as well as pushing away any mosquitoes that might be in the area. Bird song sounded on both sides, barely audible out here in the middle of the nearly mile-wide river.
“This is the life,” Sergeant Bob Frieze, RCAF, said. “We really appreciate you bringing us out here, Sergi.”
“For sure,” Corporal Ken Tilgen said. “Right, Carpenter?”
The other RCAF corporal tilted his bottle of beer toward Sergi and grinned. “I could do this all day, man.”
“I just wanted to show you guys that there’s more to Alaska than you’ve seen at the airfield. Besides, I really feel that the Dená People owe you more than you’ll ever see in your pay packets.”
“This has been an adventure for most of us,” Corporal Tilgen said. “Who would have thought we’d see a constitutional convention in action? That’s something you don’t see down in the Republic. I heard they’ve almost got the thing finished.”
“They had some pretty good models to work from,” Frieze said. “The US, the CSA, the Texans and us all have pretty much the same wording.”
“Preambles are different,” Tilgen said with a shrug, “but essentially, you’re correct.”
“They been at it ten weeks, right?” Carpenter said. “How long would it take to copy the best parts of the others and just sign the thing?”
Sergi Titus laughed. “It ain’t that easy. We’re trying to get all the Dená and the Tlingits to agree on one document that they’re gonna have to live by.”
“So?” Carpenter said.
“There’s a lot of old animosities and distrust to get past. That kind of thing takes time. Indian time.”
“What’s ‘Indian time’?” Tilgen asked.
“Pretty much the idea if you don’t get it done today, there’s always tomorrow.”
“Oh, sounds a lot like Spanish Mexico time,” Carpenter said with a laugh. “Mañana!”
The other two Californians laughed.
“That means the same thing, huh?” Sergi said with a grin.
“Precisely!” Carpenter said.
Abruptly one of the poles jerked down and the reel sang out as something on the other end of the line grabbed the bait and ran with it.
“Holy shit, I got something!” Frieze shouted, bounding to his feet. “You guys get your lines out of the way!”
Titus and Tilgen both jumped up to grab their poles. Carpenter decided there was too much going on at the moment for him to get in the middle of it, so he stayed put and took another swig of beer.
Suddenly Frieze’s head exploded, then Tilgen’s, and Titus screamed as something went through his chest. All three men were knocked into the water. Before Carpenter could sit up, he heard the rifle reports carry across the water.
“What the hell?” he shouted.
The boat rocked and a bright hole appeared in the gunwale. Another rifle report echoed across the Yukon.
He lifted his head to look at the east bank from where the shots originated. Something buzzed past his head close enough that he felt the breeze it created.
Another hole punched through the side of the boat. He rolled over to the main motor, grabbed the control arm, pulled it down and let it go. The engine slammed down into operating position.
Carpenter pushed the control arm with his foot so it turned the boat toward the west bank. As soon as the boat turned, he sat up and grabbed the arm, pushed the ignition button and, like a lunatic, laughed aloud as the engine roared into life.
Another hole appeared beside the motor and something hit his left boot, tearing the heel off and throwing it over the front of the boat.
Carpenter gave the control arm a hard twist and the motor bellowed as the front of the boat rose and tore west across the Yukon. A round splanged off the top of the motor and Carpenter turned the boat to the left and back again to the right.
Until the sob burst from his throat, he didn’t realize he was crying. He kept the boat moving upriver toward Tanana, but not in a straight line. He thought the war was over.
103
Tanana, Dená Republik
“You were in the middle of the river when this happened?” Colonel Smolst asked again.
“Dammit, Colonel, I’ve told you that twice already!”
“Calm down, Carpenter!” Colonel Buhrman snapped.
“It’s okay, Del,” Smolst said. “He’s had a damn lousy day.”
“Why would anyone want to kill us?” Carpenter said in a pleading tone, looking from one officer to the other. “The frigging war is over, isn’t it?”