Alaska Republik-ARC (7 page)

“Well, no lions or tigers.” Bodecia gave him a grim smile. “But we do have caribou and moose, brown bear and black bear, lynx, wolves, fox, and even muskrats.”

“Real bears?” His voice rose slightly.

“Shh.
Da,
not like the kind Jerry wears on his chest.”

He thought of the lieutenant’s flight wings: a roaring bear head with wings on either side of the skull.

“California grizzly is national symbol,” he showed a depreciating grin. “Have been extinct sixty years, perhaps more.”

“The Alaska variety sure isn’t. If it’s a bear out there, all we have to do is make a lot of noise and it will probably leave.”

“Probably? Why would it not?”

“It might be hungry.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Unless a bear is very old or injured, it would not be hungry this time of year. They live on fish, rodents, berries, and grubs. All are plentiful in late spring.”

“Then why is it here?”

“These creeks are full of grayling and trout. Didn’t you notice?”

“No.” He knew she was toying with his fears, but knowing that it probably wasn’t a hungry bear calmed him. “What about the dogs, will they go with me?”

“If there is trouble, I will send them to help.”

“I will see what is there.”

“Rudi, all sport aside, please be careful. Do not ever come between any animal and its young. If you do, it is the last the thing you will do.”

He stared into her eyes where all humor had evaporated. This wasn’t a joke.

“
Da.
” He picked up the rifle and ensured the firing chamber held a round. Thirty years of lessons and memories spread through him. A hunter of men, he carefully edged into the brush.

12

30 miles west-northwest of Delta

Colonel Del Buhrman waved his hand downward and the sixty men within view around him sank out of sight into the brush and trees. He pulled himself down behind a rock wreathed with bushes and peered ahead. A Russian soldier, his rifle carelessly resting across his shoulder, briefly ambled toward them.

Buhrman rested his elbows on the rock and eased the rifle barrel through the bushes, centered his sights on the man’s chest and waited. His index finger caressed the trigger.

The soldier stopped, peered back down the trail, and shrugged. He turned around and disappeared.

Colonel Buhrman pushed on the safety and moved the weapon to his side. Captain Coffey slid up next to him.

“What’s the good word?”

“They have no idea we’re back here. Pass the word that the guys have done an excellent job of being invisible and Colonel Buhrman is pleased.”

“If I knew where they were, I’d tell Benny’s guys that too.”

“Joe,” Buhrman’s glance held a smile, “they might not even be out here. Wherever they’re at, we’re all on the same side.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell. You know that Benny will be where the action is, and that’s out here. Maybe I should have joined the Rangers. At least I’d get my name in the paper on a regular basis.”

“Notoriety is a double-edged sword, Captain Coffey. If they don’t know who you are, they can’t blame you for not living up to their expectations.”

“How do you do it? No matter what I say, you point out how good I got it—and I always believe you!”

Colonel Buhrman laughed. “That’s one of the things I like about you, Joe, you’re gullible.”

They laughed quietly together.

“Tell Major Smolst I’d like to see him,” Colonel Buhrman said.

“Right away.” Captain Coffey vanished silently into the brush.

Colonel Buhrman leaned against a tree a few feet from the large rock and slid down to a sitting position. He appreciated the respite but his eyes constantly moved over the terrain ahead of him.

Major Smolst suddenly squatted next to him. “You wanted to see me, Colonel?”

“You’re good, Heinrich. I didn’t hear you coming.”

“I didn’t want you to, sir.”

“You’re ex-Troika Guard, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Over twenty years.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re on our side and not theirs.” Buhrman nodded toward the rock in front of him. “How many Dená are with you?”

“A hundred and ninety-five, not counting me.”

“Any of your guys know this country?”

“Two are from Delta, and have hunted this area all their lives.”

“Perfect. I’d like to speak with them at their earliest convenience.”

Smolst nodded. “I’ll go get them now. You going to be in this spot?”

“Yep.”

13

58 miles south of Delta

Shouts of dominance and victory carried through the copse of willows and black spruce. A shot rang out and the cheering intensified. Jerry felt near panic. Where was Magda? Had they found her?

He stepped out onto the path, almost standing over the Russian captain’s body. A quick glance about found nothing and he steeled his resolve to go into their midst after her. He checked the machine pistol, making sure the safety was off.

“Lieutenant!” The whisper came from behind him and he whirled about to see Magda and the dogs deep in the willows.

“My God, you’re safe!”

“Shut up!” she hissed. “They are just down the road. If they catch us, they will kill us: you and my dogs immediately, me after they have had their fun.”

Jerry joined her in the brush. “What do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“You’re my guide, Magda. I agreed to follow your lead.”

“You saw what he did to the captain. These are rogues, without honor or discipline.”

“I think they have discipline,” Jerry said, maintaining his whisper. “But I don’t think they have any honor. Which to be honest, I considered just an abstract concept until about five minutes ago.”

“So what do we do?”

“I wish I knew what they were going to do. If they are headed for Delta, we have to take a different route—are there any?”

“Of course there are, but we’re talking about an extra day’s worth of walking. They will take the highway; we’ll have to follow the game trails.”

“Then let’s not waste any more time. I’ll follow you.”

“We need to move fast in order to warn the DSM.”

“The what?”

“The Dená Separatist Movement. That’s who you’re fighting for.”

“I thought this war was all new to you?”

“The war is,” she smiled, “but we’ve been part of everything else all along. Come now, we need to hurry.”

Frigid water swirled around Jerry’s hips as they forded yet another fast-moving tributary to the Delta River. The only good thing about being in the middle of a cold creek, he decided, was the lack of mosquitoes. The invasive insects droned in clouds all around the horizon.

Magda gave him something to rub on his exposed skin but the devils still found entry into his shirt and hovered around his face. As they approached the shore, he could see them hazing above the water.

“Do you have any more of that stuff?”

She pulled a vial from her pouch and handed it to him. “Use it sparingly; it’s all we have left.”

He rubbed it behind both ears and on the back of his neck before closing the vial tightly. Hours ago he had pulled off his flight suit and now wore his khaki fatigues.

He pulled the flight suit out of his bag, held it under water and, as they neared shore, wrapped it around his head and shoulders. Cold water cascaded over his face as he hurried up onto the shore.

“Move fast, maybe we can lose most of them,” he all but shouted.

“Make a little more noise and the Russians will bite you permanently!”

Jerry slowed and looked back at her. “I’m being eaten alive by flying needles and you’re worried about Russians? They won’t be out in this; they’re all sitting around smudge pots drinking vodka.”

“If you believe that, I’ll just let you stay here and die.”

Jerry bit his tongue to stop his heated answer. This was not the way to save Pelagian, Bodecia and Rudi. Nor was this the way to serve the Republic of California and the Dená Separatist Movement.

“I’ll try to make less noise if you will,” he said in his most jocular tone.

“Oh, now I’m the one making noise!”

He stopped moving and stared at her, watching her eyes widen and her lovely bosom heave with the emotion she felt, and appreciated the color blossoming in her face.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked in a low voice.

She blinked and looked away. “Sorry, just edgy I guess. I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s go.”

She followed the game trail and he followed her. For a moment he considered kissing her, and the sudden realization that, more than anything else, he wanted to do just that jarred him. He dwelt on what that would mean.

At any other point in his life he would have taken the chance of getting his face slapped. There was always another girl around the corner in California. But this girl, no, he corrected himself, this
woman
was different. Not to mention there weren’t many corners out here.

Alaska was so different from California he didn’t bother with comparisons. They came from different cultures, but both had completed college. Her calling seemed to be education, he wasn’t sure of his.

Casual pairings didn’t seem to be the norm here, but then his contact with locals and local mores could only be described as limited. Did he find her attractive enough to marry her? He mulled that:
maybe
.

“You hungry?” she said over her shoulder without looking at him.

“A little.”

She twisted and tossed him the ubiquitous strand of squaw candy. He wondered if it were possible to get tired of it. As he chewed, he thought about being married to Magda.

He bit the side of his mouth and yelped.

She whirled and was in front of him in an instant. “What’s wrong? Are you choking? Are you okay?”

Jerry held his cheek and explored the spot with his tongue, staring intently at her. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just bit the side of my mouth.”

“Oh.” She seemed disappointed, started to turn away.

“Magda, you are unlike any woman I’ve ever met and I am overwhelmingly attracted to you. I don’t know if the intensity I feel is part of the situation we’re in,” he waved his hand toward the distant forest, “or exactly what I would feel if we met in San Francisco. I just know that it’s there.”

She stared at him with her lovely deep blue eyes and listened intently as he spoke.

“You’re an honest man, Lieutenant Jerry Yamato, and I appreciate that and what you just said. I can’t even think about you and me in that way until we get help at Delta. Once my father and mother are safe, I’ll consider you again, I promise.”

“Deal. Lead on.”

“Listen,” she said and her eyes lost focus. “That’s an engine.”

Jerry cocked his head to the side and instantly heard the metallic grinding of a tank. He turned and peered toward the sound. Both dogs stared intently in the same direction. Jerry wondered if they could actually see something.

“They’re off to our left, so they’re not following our tracks. Is that where the highway is?”

“Yes,” her brow furrowed, “they’ll always be ahead of us.”

“How far away is Delta?”

“Fifty, maybe fifty-five kilometers. A couple of long days of hiking no matter how you look at it.”

He glanced at his watch. Six hours had passed since they started. Quickly he did a self survey and decided he felt pretty good.

“Can we pick up the pace and make it by morning after tomorrow?”

She smiled. “I’ve been holding back for you.” Magda turned and charged down the trail.

Jerry worked to match her pace. Did she take every question as a challenge? As they moved, he kept one ear on the engine noises.

If the machines got any nearer, he had to have a plan. Mosquitoes buzzed past but Magda’s pace gave them the added bonus of moving faster than the insects could fly. Jerry swatted one off his face.

Of course you could still run into them.

14

63 miles south of Delta

Moving silently through undergrowth choked with decades of dead leaves and branches taxed Rudi’s skills and current physical abilities. Every few steps he stopped to listen intently and rest.

Nothing moved save for the constant whisper of wind across the willows and black spruce. The susurration filled the silence at the edge of his awareness and he missed the sound of teeth on foliage. He spied something dark ahead, but seeming stationary, he dismissed it.

He quietly spread the willows with his rifle and left hand and stared up into the face of a moose. A covey of thoughts flashed through his mind: moose were incredibly large; it was as surprised to see him as he was to behold it; his left hand was impossibly far from the rifle in his right hand; he didn’t know where to shoot this thing if he even got the chance, and he was totally terrified.

The animal’s eyes grew wider by half and it abruptly pulled back and centered its weight over the back legs. Rudi knew it was going to use its front legs for combat and he threw himself to the side and scrambled madly through the thicket, ignoring the lightning flashes of pain throughout his body. Behind him the moose smashed down through the haze of sweat he knew he must have left in his wake.

It crashed into the willows behind him. He turned ninety degrees to his left without slowing. The moose gained on him, snorting and slamming huge, splayed feet down on the thick gravel.

Dogs barked in excitement somewhere behind him.

Rudi turned to his left and ran through the slashing willows, desperately trying to avoid anything that could truly trip him up. Three strides later his right foot caught in the middle of a three-trunk sapling and he hit the ground hard. Unhealed wounds ripped anew and the cascading pain lofted him into the edge of shock and unconsciousness.

Cool, wet strokes brought him awake and he jerked as memory returned.

“Lie still, Rudi,” Bodecia said gently. “You’ve opened some of your wounds.”

“Where is moose?” He tried to see all around him.

“Gone. It was probably more scared of you than you were of it. Griz and Kodiak ran it off.”

“Not possible to be more frightened, would have died from fright.”

She laughed. “I’m glad you didn’t lose your sense of humor.”