Alaska Republik-ARC (8 page)

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Authors: Stoney Compton

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Military, #Fiction

BOOK: Alaska Republik-ARC
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He tried to smile but couldn’t find it. “I run from a beast, a man I would fight, but from beast I run.”

“If you hadn’t run it would have killed you. That was the only thing you could have done.”

“You are kind. I ran like coward. I have failed person who saved my life.”

“You are being far too melodramatic. That was a cow moose, she had a calf with her, and she thought you were a threat to her baby. If you hadn’t run you would have been kicked to death in moments. I am not presenting puffery, merely facts.”


Da.

“How do you feel?”

“As if I may die.”

“Here, drink this.” She held a cup to his lips and he drank deeply. The astringency of the liquid nearly caused him to vomit, but he held it back.

“What is this?” he asked with a gasp.

“Relief.”

Darkness swam up around him, rolled over him, and pulled him down into it. He surrendered without a fight.

15

60 miles south of Delta

Bodecia sat between her two mumbling patients and two drowsing dogs, listening to the birds and wondering how Magda and Lieutenant Yamato were faring. Her daughter was one of the smartest people she knew, but Bodecia had witnessed the spark between the two young people.

“Attraction equals distraction,” she said quietly to the rocks in front of her. She checked the constantly simmering stew and the low fire in a shallow pit beneath it. Her fire made little smoke and the constant breeze pulled it away from them.

She had enough to deal with here; she didn’t want to worry about Magda too. Very vividly she remembered meeting Pelagian the first time and how completely her desire for him blotted out everything else. She smiled at her sleeping husband of twenty-eight years.

Rudi mumbled something and jerked in his sleep. The man possessed devils and she suspected he had not come to terms with all of them. His total loyalty moved her.

Rocks hit other rocks somewhere on the far side of the screening willows and she quickly grabbed the rifle. Gravel crunched under a foot within ten meters of her. Blood pounded in her ears and her hands shook slightly as she aimed the rifle at the noise.

Off to her left a voice said in Russian, “Did you find anything?”

Griz growled deep in her throat and Bodecia quickly squeezed her muzzle. The dog quieted and along with her brother, Kodiak, stared intently toward the sounds, body tensing to spring.

The steps faltered and stopped. “No, Sergeant. Nothing but damned willows and rocks.”

“Come on back,” the first voice commanded. “We need to rig this tow.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” The man walked away toward the disabled armored car.

“Whoever killed them are long gone by now. Probably another DSM ambush.”

Bodecia felt her heart slow closer to normal. Rudi thrashed again and began mumbling. She clamped her hand over his mouth.

If it’s not the dogs, it’s the men!

He subsided and she held the rifle firmly in both hands, waiting to see what would transpire next. Where had they come from? She had heard no engines.

Perhaps the constant breeze had worked against her. She jerked with the realization that if the wind shifted slightly, the Russian soldiers would smell the smoke from her fire. She caved in the sides of the pit on the wispy flames and they ceased to exist with no telltale plume.

She stood as tall as she could and peered around, seeing nothing other than the vast willow forest and the rushing creek.

Where were they?

***

“Take up the tension,” a man’s voice bellowed in Russian. “Don’t snap the cable.”

Bodecia, moving as quietly as possible, continued piling dead brush on top of the parachute. After chopping off all but two thirds of a meter from the support poles, she now tried to disguise their low-profile shelter. The parachute nearly blended with the surrounding area and she stopped, listening intently.

“Make sure it’s in neutral,” the second voice said.

They didn’t like each other, she decided. Good, they both will fixate on their irritation, perhaps relaxing their vigilance.

“That’s the middle position, right, Sergeant?”

“Private Gordonin, if you give me any more shit I’ll break your arm.”

Bodecia smiled at the animosity in both voices. Her enemies were enemies.

“When I wave, you brake for both of us, understand?”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

This time she heard the engine crank up. How had she missed that before?

“We only need to go a few hundred meters, so keep it in a straight line.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

A few hundred meters?
Fear coursed down her spine. She found the strongest willow within sight and carefully climbed the slender trunk.

The Russians moved away from her toward a mass of parked vehicles about three hundred meters away, somewhere between thirty and fifty machines, she thought. Most of the machines had guns of various sizes mounted on them. Another two hundred meters beyond the vehicles squatted clusters of tents with soldiers milling about.

The whole Russian encampment was no more distant than the lengths of two soccer fields.

Bodecia eased back to the ground, thinking hard. If they had strayed but a few meters off the path and taken the line of least resistance, they would have walked into the middle of that. But the Russian motor pool lay between the camp and her.

How did they not hear the exchange of gunfire earlier when Pelagian was hit? Between the wind and willows, she decided, much went undetected. Or the gunfire had been ignored as commonplace.

She checked both her patients. Then, taking only her berry bag, hurried off toward the Russian encampment. She moved quickly but quietly, both dogs silently flanking her.

In minutes she saw the dirty brown of military vehicles through a screen of willows. She edged into the open and looked around. Nothing moved.

Bodecia sidled up to a small truck and saw the ignition button waiting to be pushed. But would they hear her? She felt sure nobody would see her, as the truck was much smaller than the tanks and great tracked vehicles between her and the tents.

The wind blew away from the camp, so they probably wouldn’t hear her—unless there was a patrol close by. Throwing caution to the constant wind, she climbed into the back of the truck and surveyed the area.

Nothing moved. She jumped down and swung behind the steering wheel. The engine caught immediately and she pulled out of the rank and turned sharply. In moments she was crashing through the willows.

Maybe we’ll give the kids a lift.

16

48 miles south of Delta, Russian Amerika

“Magda, I need to take a break.”

Welcoming his words, she immediately stopped and sat down next to a tree, leaned on the trunk and let her eyes close. “Okay.”

Both dogs sank to the ground, tongues lolling and eyes watchful.

“Stay where you’re at; I’ll be right back.”

Her eyes flew open. “Where are you going?”

“To add to the water table, okay?”

“Good idea, take your time.” She moved into the trees and relieved herself. She went back to the tree she had been leaning on; it seemed comfortable.

A Steller’s jay squawked irritably from high in a spruce tree, where the incessant wind kept its perch in constant motion. High, puffy clouds dotted the brilliant blue sky. The day sparkled for Magda and she wondered about herself.

Her feet and back hurt. Even though she and her parents had been trekking for weeks they hadn’t pushed the pace nor kept moving if someone were tired. Her stamina needed work.

Arrow crept over to her and pushed his nose under her hand. She absently scratched the dog’s ears and pondered their situation.

Jerry moved silently toward her.

What am I going to do about him?

She liked him a great deal, but beyond that she wasn’t sure. There had been other men, boys really, whom she had affected that way. Jerry was the first mature man, to her way of thinking anyway, who was obviously attracted to her, other than Viktor Mitkov. She pushed the thought of him away.

On one hand, it was terribly flattering. On the other, it felt frightening. What would he expect of her this quickly? Sex? Marriage?

Jerry was the first Californian she had ever met. But she had heard stories about their excessive lifestyles and licentious ways. She had heard the same sort of stories about the French.

“How are you holding up?” he asked. She saw nothing but concern in his face and felt touched.

“I’m fine. This is the farthest I’ve walked at one time in my life. Anyway that’s what my feet are saying.”

He laughed. “What a relief to hear you say that. My feet are killing me but I was afraid you’d think I was wimply if I mentioned it.”

“What’s wimply?”

“You know—weakling, unmanly, that sort of thing.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I think you are a very strong, good man.”

To her astonishment, he blushed and looked away.

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Just let me know when you’re ready to continue.”

Feeling a little worried, she pushed herself to her feet. The dogs rose effortlessly and moved out to flank her. Although confused, she wanted nothing more than to kiss Jerry.

“Okay, follow me.”

“Happily,” he said.

She heard engine sounds in the distance and her lethargy dissipated instantly. The ache in her feet seemed to disappear and she moved swiftly down the trail. Behind her she heard the comforting tread of Jerry’s feet.

17

Village of Angoon, Russian Amerika

“I would like this meeting to be extremely productive, very succinct, as brief as possible,” General Sobolof said. “For all of us to meet in one place, especially in these times, is just short of lunacy.”

The nine men in the room followed him with their eyes; nothing else moved.

“Captain Chernikoff, would you please bring everyone up to date?”

Paul Chernikoff stood and glanced around at the hard eyes now intent on his face. He nodded.

“Many of us, myself and my brother included, argued for a pact with the Japanese which we finally signed. Our shortsightedness has come home to roost much more quickly than any of us would have guessed. The Japanese are well into a conquest of our part of Russian Amerika.

“If they win, we will not only have a new master to contend with, but a much more alien one than the well-known Russians we are struggling to escape. The Japanese are multitudes of degrees more militant than the Russians, and they will enter every aspect of our lives if they succeed in this campaign.”

Colonel Fredrik Paul jumped to his feet and waited.

“Colonel Paul?”

“Do you have any suggestions on what we, as the Tlingit Nation Army, should do to prevent this from happening?”

“We are far too small to act on our own,” Chernikoff said with a shrug.

“Don’t the Dená have allies from the southern countries?” Colonel Gregori George asked.

“Yes. They have an alliance with both the United States and the Republic of California. Both of which, by the way, in the persons of their military liaisons, promised us military aid if we so wished it.”

Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Dundas shot to his feet, didn’t wait to be identified. “Then why the hell aren’t they on their way with what we need?”

“Because, Colonel, my brother didn’t have the rank to agree to it.”

“Paul, he was our envoy; he had our full confidence to act as he saw fit,” Dundas said.

“That’s true, Sam, he did. But he thought if we were going to change masters, you all should have a chance to vote on which one.”

“Change masters—what do you mean?” Colonel George asked.

“We have to face reality, Colonel. Whichever country grants us military aid is going to want something for it. We don’t have gold like the Dená or oil like the Eskimos. All we have is salmon, cod, and halibut. How many guns can you get for a halibut?”

“Depends on how damn big it is!” Colonel George said with a snort. Everybody in the room laughed with him, including Paul. When the laughter died down, General Sobolof cleared his throat.

“Pietr was right on this one. They’ll want bases, treaties, more of our life than we want to surrender so quickly after winning it from the Czar.”

“So we sit on our ass and do nothing?” Lieutenant Colonel Dundas raised his eyebrows as he spoke and then glanced around at the others.

“No, Sam!” General Sobolof shouted. “We run out there and get our asses shot off, let ’em kill the whole TNA in one swoop. That what you want?”

“No, General, of course it isn’t. But there’s a war on and it affects us in every possible way. And we’re just sittin’ here watching it all go by like a buncha school kids.”

“If we are to exist at all, Sam,” Paul said in a low voice, “we have to stay quiet right now. There are people out there helping us, but all we can do is absolutely nothing.”

General Sobolof nodded.

Sam stared at each person in turn, and then said, “Sounds like crap to me!”

“Fine,” General Sobolof said and clapped his hands, “we’re unanimous then. How many agree we should formally ask the USA and the ROC for military aid immediately?”

Only Sam’s hand did not rise.

“There is also the question of unification with the Dená and the creation of an Alaska Republik,” Paul said. “Our northern brothers have agreed to send a delegation to explore the possibility. But that will all be so much star gazing if the Japanese conquer the Russians here in the panhandle.”

“Say what?” Lieutenant Colonel Dundas said.

Paul glanced at the stern visage of General Sobolof and felt his face go ashen. He had agreed to speak to the others!

General Sobolof raised his hand to still the sudden buzz in the room.

“Don’t worry, Captain Chernikoff, all is well. Gentlemen, the captain brought up a subject he thought had been presented to you before this. Due to my harried schedule, I haven’t had the time to cover the topic with any of you. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe we could cover it now?” Lieutenant Colonel Dundas said in a sarcastic tone.

“Colonel Dundas, I know you’re new to this military thing,” General Sobolof said with steel in his voice, “but you’re also getting close to pissing off a kwan leader. You’re stacking the deck against yourself, Sam.”

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