General Spotted Bird dropped his binoculars to his chest and gave the colonel a level stare. “You never told me you knew him.”
“You never asked, sir.”
“Why was a white kid living in the FPN?”
“His dad was one of those back-to-the-land rustics in the late ’50s. His mother is Hunkpapa Sioux, so he’s half Indian.”
“How long did the father last?”
“He’s the chief administrator for the big hospital in Sioux Falls, still married to his wife after all these years.”
“That’s amazing. Most of those guys went home after three months. What was Cassidy like as a kid?”
Colonel Fires-Twice grinned and shook his head. “He got me into more damned trouble than any five other people put together. Always had a scheme that would make us some money, get us horses, or much later, find wild women.”
“And you haven’t seen him for over fifteen years?”
“The few times he came back to Pa Sapa to visit I was out patrolling one of our borders. You know his record pretty well, General. How is that?”
“He’s worked for me off and on for the last ten years. Best facilitator I’ve ever seen.”
“I can easily believe that. He was always good in tight situations. One time he and I—”
A battered utility with a lodge top screeched to a stop beside the Brulé tank and both men watched a solidly built man of medium height climb out and look up at them.
“General Spotted Bird, you sent for me?” His gaze wandered over to the other man in the wide tank hatch. “Frank, is that really you?”
“With your permission, General?” Fires-Twice said with a wide grin.
“By all means, Colonel, go greet your friend.”
Colonel Franklin Fires-Twice vaulted out of the hatch, landed on the hull and then jumped to the ground. He and Cassidy grabbed each other in a fierce bear hug and danced in a circle, pounding each other on the back. When they pulled apart General Spotted Bird saw tears on the faces of both men.
“I’ve thought about you every damn day,” Franklin said. “Always wondering what you were up to, where you were, who you were—”
“You’re looking good, Frank.” He wiped his eyes with a grimy sleeve. “And a full colonel, too! I always knew you’d get somewhere if I just got the hell out of the way. I’ve kept up on you, too. Two Valor Shields in one career is a record, isn’t it?”
“So they tell me. It is so good to see you, my brother!”
“We can’t let this many years separate us again, agreed?”
“Agreed!”
“Now I have to report to the general.” Cassidy turned and looked up at Spotted Bird. “Any word on our outlaw?”
“The Freekorps went through here over a week ago. They jumped the border in the middle of the night without killing anyone. The Russians had other fish to fry and put the incident on the back burner. Where they went from here is anyone’s guess.”
“Was Riordan with them?”
“Oh yes. Our witness was very sure of that point. Riordan’s scout car nearly ran down the guy’s kids. Riordan had the driver stop and he screamed at the kids for being in his way.”
“That asshole never changes, does he?”
“There’s a firefight ahead of us—we’re taking out Tetlin Redoubt—but we can get you around the fighting and headed northwest if you wish.”
“I would be most grateful, General Spotted Bird.”
“You’re after Riordan?” Franklin Fires-Twice asked.
“I’ll bring him back to the First People’s Nation to answer for his crime, my friend.”
“Isn’t he surrounded by mercenaries?”
“So I’ve heard.”
“But how—”
“I’ll see you when I get back, Frank. Please stay safe.”
“You too, Wayne.”
Cassidy crawled back into the battered utility and started the engine. Then, with a wave, he swayed off down the road stretching north into the heart of Russian Amerika.
7
57 miles south of Delta
“Majeur! We have sighting of Russian military.” Captain René Flérs exclaimed through the window of the command car, jerking Timothy Riordan out of a deep sleep.
After waiting ten beats for his heart to slow, Riordan squinted his eyes and stared at his executive officer. “Are they actually attacking us, René?”
“Non! Perish the very thought. They know nothing of our presence.”
“Then you should have carefully touched my shoulder and spoke in softer tones,” he said softly. Then he screamed, “I nearly crapped myself when you startled me! Ten days of busting ass on the road takes it out of a man!”
“My apologies, Majeur Riordan,” Flérs said as he cringed. “I was merely attempting to notify you in the most expeditious manner at my command.”
Riordan sat up and glanced around. “Don’t worry about it, this time. So what’s the situation?”
“Corporal N’go and Private Kyle report they have made visual contact of a small group of Russian Army vehicles and soldiers. They are at the junction where the road turns north again.”
“Small, how small?”
“Two tanks, six armored personnel carriers and three trucks. No more than forty Russians.”
“Good work, René!” Riordan jumped to his feet and adjusted his uniform. Squaring his beret he flashed René a quick smile.
“We’re going to come out of this better than we are going in.”
René smiled.
8
58 miles south of Delta
Jerry fought his mixed emotions. He was in a combat situation among people he didn’t know, and had no idea of their viewpoint on anything other than killing Russians.
He felt an increasing attraction to Magda. Sure, he had always appreciated a good-looking woman and would vie with his buddies for their favors. Even the engagement to Andrea had been more lark than not and the sex had been awesome at first.
Somehow this was different. But was that due to the fact that she knew more about the current situation than he did, and he needed to prove dominance or something? This sudden change in the situation didn’t give him pause but it certainly put a new twist on things.
She was a very strong-willed person, physically brave, obviously intelligent, and would probably kill him if she thought it necessary.
“This is the kind of girl my mother would like,” Jerry muttered, remembering how much his traditional mother had disliked Andrea.
Ahead of him, Magda stopped and peered back over her shoulder. “Shut up,” she hissed. “This is Russian territory.”
Jerry gave her a crisp salute and forgot Andrea. Watching Magda’s body move under the moosehide was much more interesting.
All of his gear had been returned and he kept a weather eye on the compass embedded in the hilt of his survival knife. Even though she weaved around rock fields and brush too dense to penetrate, Magda maintained a bearing of NNW. Without the compass, Jerry knew he would have been lost within a half hour, even if he knew where he was going.
Bodecia had been generous with her three-hour guess. The two dogs fanned out on either side of the trail, never barking nor chasing the small animals spooked by their proximity.
They crossed a crude road indented with the passing of tracked vehicles. Tanks or armored personnel carriers, Jerry decided, or both. After moving out of sight of the road he reached out and touched her arm.
She wheeled and the muzzle of her machine pistol pointed at his stomach. “What?”