Alaska Republik

by Stoney Compton

  “What do they say?” Colonel Wing Grigorievich asked. She put her hand on her husband’s bed and the general covered it with his.

  “The ROC has sent her fleet north into the Gulf of Alaska which includes air support.”

  “And the USA?” Grisha asked.

  “Claims one of their submarines sank a Russian destroyer in Clarence Strait, in the Russian portion of the Inside Passage.”

  The fifth person in the room broke his silence, “It seems our people are going to get the aid they requested.”

  Grisha smiled at his cousin, Captain Pietr Chernikoff, of the Tlingit Nation Army.

  “Whatever happens, Pietr, our old world is gone forever.”

  “Do you really think it can get worse than it was, Grisha?”

  “I don’t know. Ask me a year from now.”

  “There’s one more thing, General,” Sergeant Major Tobias said, his mouth working as if he smelled something unpleasant.

  “Yes?”

  “The Imperial Japanese Fleet shelled and effectively destroyed the Imperial Russian naval base at Kodiak at 0200. Imperial Russia has declared war on the Imperial Japanese Empire.”

  “My God!” Grisha blurted.

  “That’s insane!” Wing said.

  “That was not supposed to happen!” Pietr’s tone carried anger.

  “What do you mean by that?” Grisha snapped.

  “We asked them to posture, nothing more.” Pietr’s face had gone as pale as possible. “They would demonstrate and then leave. We were sure we could get the Russians to back down.”

  “You made a treaty with the Japanese?” Grisha felt stunned and terrified at the same time.

  “At the time we felt we had no other choice …” Pietr’s voice trailed away.

  “Now that’s what’s insane!” Wing said. “Did you leave any soft spots in your treaty’s perimeter? Some place they could break through with impunity if it served their purpose?”

  Pietr’s face flushed and he opened his mouth to respond, eyes dark and brow constricted. But he held his tongue long enough to digest her words. His mouth snapped shut and the frown lost contour and dissipated.

  “Perhaps,” he said and his face reddened further. “I would need to revisit what I urged to be signed.”

  “Can you rescind the treaty?” Grisha asked.

  “Unlikely, cousin.”

  “So we potentially have a new war to consider.”

  “Grisha!” Wing blurted. “We have no navy, we barely have an army. The Japanese have both in numbers we can’t defeat.”

  “She’s got a couple of good points there, Grisha,” Paul Eluska said.

  “But we have allies, no?” Grisha searched all their faces but found no answer.

  “Japan has a huge navy,” Wing said in a gentle voice.

  “I must get in contact with my brother Paul,” Pietr said. “As soon as possible.”

  “I’ll introduce you to our communications people,” Wing said. “Follow me.”

  4

  40 miles northwest of Delta

  Major Joe Coffey of Easy Company, 3rd Parachute Infantry Regiment, Republic of California Army, hustled through the woods and dropped next to his commanding officer. “They aren’t doing much rear guardwise, Del, uh, Colonel Buhrman.”

  “You’re out of shape, Joe,” the colonel said with a wide grin only partially covered by his walrus mustache. “How far ahead are they?”

  “No more’n half a click, shit, I couldn’t run farther than that.”

  “Do they know we’re back here?”

  “Don’t think so. They seem more worried about what’s in front of them. They don’t act like an army in full retreat.”

  “Good. But if they figure out we’re back here, it could get hairy and damn fast. Nothing like a cornered rat for a real fight.”

  “Kinda reminds me of that Spanish fight over in the Arizona no-man’s-land. Remember that?”

  “How the hell could I forget it?” Colonel Buhrman said with a snort. “Only time I’ve ever been suckered, and by the sheep-humping Spanish at that!”

  “But we kicked their asses,” Major Coffey said through his grin.

  “And we lost four good men because we weren’t paying attention.”

  Coffey’s smile evaporated. “Yeah, that’s right. Better keep our act together on this one, huh?”

  “Couldn’t have put it better myself. Where do they have their tanks?”

  “Way forward. You’d think they were attacking instead of retreating.”

  “I’ve come to the conclusion that General Myslosovich likes to kid himself. He never retreats, only attacks. That suggests he’s vain and can be bullshitted. Good thing to know about your enemy.”

  “Sometimes you scare me, Colonel Buhrman.”

  “I must be losing my edge, used to be you were in constant terror of me.” He grinned again.

  Joe laughed. He and Del had gone through the Presidio together. The officers the Republic of California Military Academy provided could more than match anything offered by West Point, VMI, TMI, or Sandhurst.

  It had taken Joe Coffey nine long years to make major; marginal peacetime was hell for a soldier. But Del had made colonel in the same amount of time. Joe felt no envy; Del was the smartest man he had ever met. Give him another five years and he’d have stars on his shoulders, no doubt about it.

  “Constant terror? Naw. Worried that we might not live through your latest adventure, maybe. You always pull us through and I’ll take that to the bank.”

  “As if you ever had anything left over to put in a bank!” Colonel Buhrman was still grinning.

  5

  63 miles south of Delta

  Rudi could make out the hulking armored personnel carrier through the light screen of willows. He aimed toward the machine and waited for movement. Moments before he had heard the death cry of the Oriental-Californian pilot.

  Despite his self-avowal not to dwell on it until later, Jerry’s face flashed through his mind. He was beginning to like that boy, even if he was a goddamned first lieutenant. Now this pustule-infested, borscht-eating, lice-picking, mouth-breathing, self-abusing son of a bitch in front of him had ended Jerry’s life.

  Rudi tried to maintain his sergeant’s distance. Something clinked and he focused. Another clink.

  The whoreson is reloading his heavy machine gun. He painfully pulled himself to his feet and stepped as quickly as he could through the willows.

  The corporal behind the twin 9mm machine guns jerked his head up in surprise and quickly brought the muzzle around to bear on Rudi. A burst of automatic fire blossomed a row of blood roses across the corporal’s chest and toppled him lifelessly over the edge of the gun tub onto the mud-scarred trail.

  Jerry Yamato let his weapon drop to his side and grinned at Rudi. “I knew you were going to try something crazy. But your timing was perfect.”

  Rudi felt something other than pain inside him. He grinned and pointed to the armored personnel carrier. “Is good to insure there are no others.”

  Jerry walked around the machine, poked his weapon inside the troop compartment and let loose a string of shots. Silence fell over the area.

  “So how far is it to the closest redoubt?”

  “I would know this how?” Rudi asked, gesturing with his unburdened hand. “I am as new to Russian Amerika as the lieutenant, and like you, I no longer have my maps.”

  “Good point.” His face went bleak. “Jesus, I nearly forgot, Pelagian has been hit.”

  As quickly as possible, Rudi followed Yamato into the brush. The amount of pain he constantly suppressed had lessened over the past day, for which he was grateful. To tell full truth, he felt fortunate to be alive.

  The forever fall down the mountain did things to him that other men would not have survived. Being obstinate helped, he felt sure. But Bodecia had worked magic on him and saved his life. She had also put clean clothing on him and replaced his boots.

  He owed these people. It ha
d been a very long time since he felt that way about anyone. It occurred to him that he felt more loyalty to them than to anyone or anything else.

  Pelagian lay on the ground, using part of the parachute for a pillow. Bodecia knelt beside him, her back to the others, working on the wound. Pelagian appeared gray and wrung out.

  Rudi wondered where all those worry lines on the man’s face had suddenly come from.

  “Magda, come on in,” Jerry called. He surveyed the couple on the ground. “How is he?”

  “I’ve stopped the bleeding. Now I must remove the bullet.”

  “It didn’t go through him? That’s amazing.”

  “We think it hit a branch first. We were both out of the line of fire and we believe the bullet was a ricochet. It could have been worse, but this is bad enough.”

  Magda crept up as if her sudden presence would frighten.

  “Father is wounded?”

  “Yes, but I am going to take out the bullet; all of you can help me.”

  “How will you remove the bullet?” Rudi asked.

  “I have ways. Sergeant, you move over here,” she pointed, “and, Lieutenant, you go right there.”

  Immediately both men knelt on either side of the fallen giant.

  “Hold him; this will probably hurt.”

  “What can I do?” Magda asked in a girlish voice.

  “Get hold of yourself and then give me every bit of your strength you can.”

  “Beloved,” Pelagian said in a papery tone. “For you I would endure anything.”

  “Good,” Bodecia said with starch in her voice. “Now don’t move.”

  Rudi followed Jerry’s lead and rested his hand on the wounded man’s arm. Bodecia cupped her hands over the blood-oozing wound and closed her eyes. The muscles in her neck and jaw stood out, slightly quivering.

  Magda stood directly behind her mother, as close as she could without touching. She tensed her body and she lifted her face to the sun.

  “Uhhnnn.” Pelagian went rigid, sweat popped out on his face and chest. His eyes rolled far back and Rudi thought the man would faint.

  “It’s coming,” Bodecia said in a gasp.

  Rudi thought he saw white light between her palms, but realized that was impossible.

  Pelagian arched his back, straining against their hands, as Bodecia held her still-cupped hands over him. A gout of blood erupted from the man’s side with a small poitt sound and Bodecia grinned as Pelagian fell back in a swoon.

  “I got it,” she said.

  “Got what?” Jerry asked.

  Rudi knew, but he wanted proof just the same.

  Bodecia opened her hand and a bloody lump of disfigured lead rested on her palm.

  “This was the easy part. Now I must make him heal.”

  “That fast?” Jerry asked.

  Bodecia and Rudi laughed in unison.

  “No,” Bodecia said. “It will take time.”

  “After seeing that,” Jerry said. “I believe you could do almost anything.”

  “I can’t hurry time, which is a good thing, because that’s all we have.”

  Magda slumped to her knees and rested her head on her mother’s back.

  “What can we do?” Rudi asked. He felt a deep, nearly religious awe and affection for this healer.

  “See if you can get that machine started. We need to get to Delta as soon as possible.”

  “As you wish, Bodecia.” Rudi looked up at the lieutenant. “Do you know engines?”

  “I know they run on gas and oil. Don’t look at me like that, I’m a pilot; I have a ground crew to keep my plane operational.”

  “Come with me anyway.”

  As in most Imperial Russian Army vehicles, a key was not needed. Ignition began with the push of a button. But on this vehicle, pushing the button produced a flat click.

  “Damn.” Rudi opened the engine compartment and began tugging on wires and prodding at components. “Look inside for tools.”

  “Yes, Sergeant.”

  Rudi grinned. “No disrespect intended, Lieutenant.”

  Yamato dropped a toolbox on the fender next to Rudi. “Is the battery damaged?”

  “Excellent question.” He followed the wiring back to a compartment under the floorboards. The battery leaked acid from three bullet holes. “No, is not damaged. Is destroyed.”

  “Oh shit, really?” Yamato stuck his head in the compartment and retreated immediately. “I thought I didn’t hit anything.”

  “Would seem you are better shot than appreciated.”

  “How are we going to get them out of here, Rudi?”

  He gave the younger man a bleak look. “How do I get me out of here?”

  Yamato went silent. Rudi didn’t like that. He suspected the man produced crazy ideas when he didn’t talk.

  “Let’s go give them the bad news,” Yamato said.

  “Da.”

  Bodecia looked up when they returned to the small clearing.

  “Battery was destroyed in the fighting,” Rudi said.

  She looked blank.

  “The battery supplies the electrical power to start the vehicle and stores additional power from the generator once the vehicle is running,” Yamato said.

  Rudi looked at him. “Thought you knew nothing about it.”

  “My dad is a mechanical engineer; something must have rubbed off.”

  For an instant Rudi remembered his father, drunk and beating Rudi’s mother, right before Rudi knocked him flat with a pick handle. That was the day he had joined the army. He had only fifteen years at the time.

  “Rudi, you okay?”

  “Yes, of course.” He looked at Bodecia again. “The lieutenant describes situation succinctly. Under present circumstances, vehicle is inoperable.”

  “I understand. When you said ‘battery’ I thought of guns for some reason. Sergeant, get back in your litter. Magda, get my pack.”

  The young woman hurried off and was back in an instant. “Here, Mother.”

  “Thank you. Now go fetch yours and make sure your water bottles are filled.” Magda hurried off again.

  Bodecia stared up at Yamato. “You and Magda must go get help.”

  “What? Why us? I mean, I thought you fixed him.”

  “He will not die. But it will take twice as long for him to heal out here as it would in the village. And sooner or later someone will come looking for that machine and its crew.”

  “Good point,” the lieutenant said.

  In his comfortable litter, Rudi tried not to smile. Bodecia could run a recruit training center better than any three sergeants he knew.

  “But why Magda and me?”

  “Pelagian is wounded, I must care for him, and the sergeant cannot travel as far and fast as you need to go.”

  “Why can’t I just go and leave Magda here?”

  “You would be lost within three hours without a guide, wouldn’t you?”

  Yamato stared up at the sky and scuffed one foot. Finally he whispered, “Yeah, probably.”

  Magda returned with a pack on her back and looked down at her mother. “Who is going with me?”

  “Take Consort and Arrow and—” Bodecia pointed at Jerry and Magda grinned. Rudi’s laugh broke free.

  “What’s so damn funny?” Yamato demanded.

  “You lose at cards, yes?” Rudi asked.

  “Yeah, mostly. What’s your point?”

  “You possess honest face, Lieutenant. What happens in your mind ends up there. Please to be careful, we need both of you.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  Magda bent and kissed her father’s cheek, then touched her mother’s hair. “The Czar Alexander Highway is not far. Five days at most and we’ll be back.”

  “Find Frank, be careful, and hurry.”

  “Come on, Lieutenant.” Magda whistled for the dogs and left the clearing without looking back.

  6

  Russia-Canada Highway, east of Tetlin Redoubt

  General Spotted Bi
rd surveyed the burning perimeter of Tetlin Redoubt through his field glasses. No movement. No resistance for over two hours. “Okay,” he said with a growl into his microphone, “send in the braves.”

  Infantry rose in both directions on the wide front, established earlier through cannon and other heavy weapons fire, and moved forward with caution and practiced alertness. The occasional crack of a rifle would bring the troopers down onto their bellies, but they didn’t hesitate in their advance. No rounds came their way; the enemy offered a total lack of resistance.

  “Whattya think, Fires-Twice?” General Spotted Bird asked, squinting over at his adjutant.

  The tall Sioux glanced at his commanding officer and nodded toward Tetlin. “I’d send in the Dog Soldiers if it were up to me.”

  “Why?”

  “They handle the unexpected somewhat better than our less experienced troops, and they won’t walk into a trap.”

  “Agreed. Make it happen.”

  Colonel Fires-Twice motioned to the radioman. “Contact Major Guthridge and tell him to execute Plan Prairie Fire at once.”

  “Yes, sir.” The sergeant flipped switches on the large radio attached to the wide tank hull and spoke rapid Navaho into the microphone.

  Colonel Fires-Twice cleared his throat and glanced at the general again.

  “You got something to say, say it,” the general said, peering through his field glasses.

  “We’ve run out of civilian liaison units. There were more towns in British Canada than we thought.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Franklin.” General Spotted Bird lowered the field glasses and bent his mouth as close to a smile as he could. “We’re in Russian Amerika now, and every place we take will be given to our northern brothers-in-arms.”

  “Why are we doing that? We’ve already taken most of British Canada. If we’re not out for conquest, why the hell are we still risking FPN lives?”

  General Spotted Bird peered through his binoculars again. “For the big picture, Franklin, for the future.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, General.”

  “Sirs,” Sergeant Yazzi, their radio talker broke in.

  “Sergeant?” General Spotted Bird gave him his full attention.

  “Captain Guthrie says there is a man named Cassidy who just drove in and demands to see you. Says he was sent for.”