Russian Amerika (19 page)

Valari Kominskiya sat and speculated on the signal's reappearance. After the costly attack on Toklat seven weeks ago, the carrier wave had stopped. She and others thought perhaps Lieutenant Rezanov had finally been killed in the attack even though no bodies were found when the Troika Guard investigated the site.

A squad had been dispatched to bring in his body when they thought him killed the first time near the Toklat. But they found nothing and she knew they had been victims of a charade. The memory of their last meeting still smarted; Grisha would pay for that one if it was the last thing he did.

Perhaps the radio had been tripped accidentally? she wondered. And was Rezanov still part of the DSM or merely going native and running a trap line or something equally droll? Or was it another deception?

"Major?"

She jerked in surprise and stared at the sergeant. "Yes?"

"The general will see you now. He has very little time."

She hurried through the door and knocked on the polished wood at the end of the small hallway.

"Come."

She entered, stood at attention and saluted. "Thank you for your time, General."

"Have a seat, Major." The commander of Tetlin Redoubt waved grandly and Valari settled into a padded chair. "What is it that has brought such color to your lovely face?"

"The radio has resumed transmitting a carrier wave. We are triangulating its exact position as I speak."

Posivich frowned in concentration for a moment. "Is this the same signal that brought our aircraft to Toklat?"

"Yes, sir. I suspect our turncoat lieutenant has accidentally switched it on."

His steady gaze unnerved her. Reading his eyes proved impossible.

"Perhaps the lieutenant and your sea captain have prepared another trap for our forces? No?"

She opened her mouth to disagree before realizing she had not thought it all out. "I, I don't know."

"It is something we should give careful consideration, Major Kominskiya. What action did you have in mind?"

"Ah, well, I was going to ask your opinion before promulgating any plans, General Posivich."

His grin glinted like steel. "You are very quick, Major, I like that in an officer. I will make no judgments. So, what was your first reaction when you received word of the signal's resumption?"

She smiled ruefully. "I wished to make an immediate attack with our wing of Yaks. Frankly, I feel that it is beyond the talents of the rebels to successfully carry off an operation that could withstand the strength of an entire squadron."

"The idea is far-fetched, I agree," the general said amiably. "But so was the notion that they could shoot down helicopter gunships with hunting rifles."

"True," she said in a low voice.

A discreet knock sounded at the door and the sergeant pushed through.

"Excuse me, General, but the major wished this information as soon as we received it." He handed a sheet of paper to Valari.

"Thank you, Sergeant," they said in unison.

She stared at the paper.

"So where is the signal located?"

She looked up at him with a frown. "About sixty kilometers north of Chena Redoubt, at Chatanika Crossing, very close to the road."

"Perhaps they expect us to send in ground forces, since the signal is so close to the road," the general said.

"They wouldn't be expecting a flight of fighters to hit them and their puny trap," Valari said.

"I hope for the pilots' sake it is not an ambush." The general's voice had turned as steely as his grin. "But I have a hidden pawn; those savages won't know what hit them!"

28

Tetlin Imperial Aerodome

Twelve Yaks roared into the air, following their flight leader and his wing man. Major Valari Kominskiya watched them buzz toward Chatanika Crossing until they blended into the sky. She hurried back into the radio room where General Posivich sat on a reversed chair, his chin resting on crossed arms.

"Have a seat, Major." He nodded toward a metal folding chair. She sat.

The speaker crackled and all eyes in the room focused on it. "This is Talon One, do you read me, Tetlin?"

"Yes,
podpolkovnik
. We read you clear and loud," said the corporal with the headset.

"Acknowledged. Talon Four, take your group and reconnoiter the target zone."

"Yes, sir. Talon Four, out."

Valari let her eyes slide over to the general. He sat with his face buried in his arms. A small sliver of anxiety worked its way into her composure.

"Talon One, this is Talon Four. We see only a cabin in a clearing. Over."

"Are there signs of habitation, Talon Four?"

"Yes,
podpolkovnik
. Smoke is coming out of the chimney."

"Tetlin, this is Talon One, did you copy our transmission?"

"Tetlin copies, Talon One," the corporal said. "Over."

"What are your orders?"

Valari glanced over at the general. He stared back at her. The corporal carefully looked to the lieutenant in charge of the radio room.

"Lieutenant?"

The lieutenant merely stared at the general.

"Your orders, General?" he said, standing at attention.

"Tell them to destroy the cabin," Posivich said. "I want to be through with this transmitting turncoat once and for all." He lowered his face back into his folded arms.

The corporal relayed the order.

"Talon Four, your people go first, Talon Eight goes next, then Georgi and me," the wing commander said. "Talon Six, you hold over the Tanana."

Terse acknowledgements crackled.

Valari felt her pulse quicken. Everyone else in the radio room seemed to be asleep. She felt like screaming.

"Direct hit, Talon Five. Good shooting." The voice sounded laconic, disinterested.

"Antiaircraft fire!" a voice blurted.

"Identify yours-"

"It's coming up from all sides!" a different, youthful voice shouted, breaking on the last word.

"Gain altitude! Get above it."

"They're bracketing us on all sides!"

"Andronivich just crashed, Talon One."

"This is Talon Three, I've spotted one of the gun positions. I'm going in after it."

"Where is it, Talon Three?"

Crackling dead air filled the room. Valari felt sweat running down her temples and wiped at it as unobtrusively as possible.

"Talon Three! Talon Three! Pull up, pull up-"

"Jesus, he crashed into the gun," a youthful voice said with evident awe.

"Tetlin, this is Talon One. We have lost two aircraft and the rest have sustained damage. We have destroyed one antiaircraft emplacement but are unable to locate others due to the amount of flak and smoke in the area."

"Tell them to return to base," General Posivich said wearily.

"Return to base," the corporal said into the microphone.

"Sergei's on fire," someone said in a tight voice. "He's going down."

"There's his chute, at least he made it out alive," another pilot said.

"This is Talon One, return to base. I repeat: return to base."

"Yes,
podpolkovnik
." The voice sounded relieved.

Valari felt nauseous and bewildered. Where had they obtained antiaircraft guns? Rezanov, with Grisha and his damned Indians, had suckered her and the Imperial Russian Air Force. The Dená were amassing quite the butcher's bill, and she could hardly wait for the day it came due.

"Major," the general said heavily, "your bright ideas have cost us a wealth of aircraft. Unless your 'special operation' bears successful fruit very soon, you're going to find yourself in the field like a common trooper."

"Send in the Troika Guard," she said quickly, hoping he would agree.

"Send them into a trap?" Posivich radiated hostility. "If the damned Indians can blow fighters out of the air they can no doubt handle a few ground troops."

"The Troika Guard is an elite fighting force." Valari's words stumbled over themselves in her rush to get them out. "They know how to infiltrate and decimate a hostile force. They did it three years ago in Afghanistan."

"Afghanistan doesn't have boreal forests in which to hide rebels."

"The other choice is to let them get away with destroying our aircraft," Valari said in a low voice.

"My first act of retribution is almost over the traitors," Posivich said, eyes gleaming.

"General?" Valari said.

"Switch to Combat IV," the general ordered.

The radioman complied.

". . . over the Yukon-Tanana junction." The voice sounded muffled, the speaker was talking in a small space. "Target dead ahead. We see smoke rising from where the fighters attacked."

"More fighters?" Valari asked.

"Bombers!" General Posivich said with a sinister chuckle.

"Bombs away!" the muffled voice said.

"The Indians aren't the only ones who can plan an ambush, major," he said, smiling widely.

Glancing over at the burning pyre that had once been a Yak fighter and an antiaircraft gun, Lieutenant Sergei Muraviev stood calmly with his parachute bunched in his arms as the four men approached him with leveled rifles.

"Do you speak the English?" a sergeant asked.

"Somewhat better than you do," Sergei said with smile.

The sergeant scowled, made a prodding motion with his rifle. "Raise your hands!"

Sergei sighed and dropped the chute. The constant light breeze caught it and it started to billow.

"Gawd dammit!" the sergeant snapped at one of the privates with him.

"Secure that damned parachute!"

"You should have let the lieutenant hold it, they're difficult to use as a weapon."

Sergei realized his captors were from two different armies.

The fourth man was totally at ease, while the men in matching uniforms seemed agitated.

"You do it your way, _Lieutenant "-the sergeant actually lifted his lip in a slight sneer-"and I'll do it mine."

"I imagine the artillery does things differently than the infantry," the Dená said.

Sergei had never seen an Native with this degree of self confidence before. He stared at the sergeant's uniform.

"To what army do you belong?"

The sergeant stuck his chest out and smirked. "The Army of the United States of America, that's who."

Sergei looked at the Dená. "This means continent-wide war!"

The Dená nodded and started to speak.

A growing roar suddenly washed over the meadow. The Dená stared up with a gasp.

"Bombers! Get into the tree line and take cover!" Without waiting for anyone to agree, he sprinted for the closest clump of trees about sixty meters away.

Sergei started to follow him but the sergeant snapped, "Hold yer water there, Russki. We're going this way." He nodded back over his shoulder toward a gun emplacement already filling the sky with shells.

"Sarge, I think we should follow the lieutenant!" one of the privates said, his voice shaking.

The increasing artillery made conversation difficult.

"Do what I say!" the sergeant bellowed.

The shriek of falling bombs cut through the din.

Sergei ran as fast as he could but the explosions caught him, and he heard his deceased mother call out, "Over here, darling," and it was easy to go that way.

29

Outside Chena Redoubt, January 1988

"Well, do I look like a
promyshlennik
?" Grisha asked.

"Actually your hair needs to be more ragged," Wing said, squinting her eyes at him.

"He'd certainly pass in St. Nicholas," Nik said.

"Chena is only one berry compared to that bush," she said. "He looks too clean."

"Wait a minute," Grisha said. "I've seen
promyshlenniks
in much nicer clothes than these."

"Where, in Akku?"

"And Fort Dionysus," he said with a sniff.

"Chena is not part of that world," Wing said flatly. "The men that frequent Chena Redoubt are lower than the animals they hunt. They have no time for niceties. They would blow their noses on silk and spit on a hardwood floor."

"So make me look the part," Grisha said with an exaggerated sigh.

She rubbed grease in his hair and cut at it with scissors. Cora ambled up and watched silently. Nik moved to her side and they discreetly touched hips.

"Chan walked over.

"I think he looks repulsive enough. Now we have to get his partner ready."

"Who's going with me?"

"Your
guide
will be Cora," Chan said, watching his face.

Grisha frowned and opened his mouth to speak.

"I will look and play the part of your woman," Cora said quickly and firmly. "You will be in charge as far as observers are concerned. The two of us will agree on our own actions."

"There could be fighting-"

Cora laughed. "Grisha, I helped rescue you. I've been a soldier for three years and you've been a lazy sailor for eight. If you want to know the truth, I'm a little worried about how you will stand up to this."

He throttled back his first impulse and thought about her words. Silence grew in the room. The rancid scent of old bear grease hung heavy in the air.

"That was stupid of me," Grisha said. He squinted up at Cora. "I'm sorry. To be frank, I'm worried about how I'll do. I know I'm a good field officer, but I've never done anything like this before. I'm glad you're going to be there."

"If you didn't have reservations," Chan said quietly, "I'd pull you off the mission. If they take you alive and discover your purpose, we'll have to change all our plans and lives will be lost for nothing. You must be completely alert at all times.

"There is another way into Chena Redoubt, but it is a door which would have to be breached. This plan will save more of our lives than would a direct initial assault.

"The Russians think they defeated us with their bombers. Our people did not die in vain. So set the hook and then get out quickly. Operation Defiant has started and time is precious."

Grisha nodded and glanced back to Cora. "You look far too fine to be with someone like this." He jabbed his chest with a thumb. "You'd better let them work on you."

"I've got an outfit, but my face needs work," Cora said, sitting down on the stool.