A man with long hair tied back and sporting a moustache looked up from where he sat on the bunk. He wore beautifully made moose-hide clothing, and obviously hadn’t been born in Russian Amerika.
“Who are you?” Cora asked. “Have we ever met before?”
“I’m Waterman Stoddard, from Eagle.”
“I didn’t realize we had elements that far east,” Cora said. “What kind of an accent is that?”
Stoddard stood and smiled. “I was born in Virginia, Confederate States of America, but I’ve lived near Eagle for nearly seven years now.”
“Why are you in here?”
“I did what that damn Yankee McCloud told me to do, get arrested. So I picked a fight with two Russian ensigns and whipped both of ’em. That did it.”
“So you’re on our side?” Cora asked.
“Yes ma’am. I’m actually on Gnady Ustinov’s staff and a captain in the Dena Army.”
“Oh. Thank you for being here when we needed you, Captain Stoddard. We’re going to get you a weapon as soon as we can.” She looked at the guard.
“There’s supposed to be three more Indians in here, where are they?”
“I’ll show you.”
Heron unfolded his gangly body from the cot when the door swung open. Other than a bruise high on one cheek, he appeared to be fine. “It’s about time. I was beginning to think it wasn’t going to work. Where’s the weapons?”
“After we get the last two,” Cora said.
“Two?” His eyes moved over the group and back to her. “Don’t you mean three?”
“Anthony is dead,” she said softly.
His jaw clamped shut and his face muscles worked. “Who did it?” he said through clenched teeth.
“The sergeant. I killed him.”
He nodded once and then looked at the guard.
“What about him?”
“I have offered him a new life if he cooperates with us. And I plan to keep my word.”
“You’re the strike team leader,” Heron said flatly.
“Right.” She frowned at the guard. “What’s your name?”
“I-Ivan Yuvonovich, Private, Imperial Army, five, sev—”
“Spare me the numbers, Ivan. Just take us to the last two prisoners.”
“Yes, Cora Leader.” He moved out into the corridor, no longer hesitant. In moments he had the last two doors open. Claude and a small man named Ray emerged from the cells.
“Very good,” Cora said. “Now let’s see if I can remember my way back to the weapons.” She easily led them to the office where the sergeant’s corpse lay over the desk.
“Where’s the key to that lock?” she asked Ivan.
“Ensign Kopectny has it. Do you wish me to lead you to Ensign Kopectny?”
“No.” She picked up the heavy bayonet the sergeant had used as a paper weight, jammed it through the hasp of the lock, and jerked it down sharply. The lock fell apart.
“I’m glad it was a Russian lock,” she muttered. “Get weapons, make sure you have ammunition.”
Ivan stared at her and licked his lips.
“What do you wish now, Cora Leader?”
“Lead us to the radio room.”
“We have to pass other guards to get to the radio room,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I do not wish to die. If they see me with my hands in the air, they’ll kill me to get you.”
“How many and where are they?”
“One, a turnkey like me, is three corridors away down there.” He thumbed to his right. “Farther down the same corridor is the guard to the operations area. Sometimes he’s out in the corridor and sometimes he’s in the tunnel.”
“What tunnel?”
“Operations is surrounded by two-meter-thick walls.” He shrugged apologetically. “It’s like being inside a rock.”
“Operations is where the radio room is located?”
“Yes. There’s another guard—” He swallowed heavily again. “—just inside the radio room.”
“Three guards total.”
“Yes, Cora Leader.”
“Good.” She glanced around at them. “Now here’s what we’re going to do.”
With the redoubt on alert, the guard in Cell Block 2 looked up when the other guard turned the corner. He squinted, trying to make out exactly what the private was doing.
The younger guard thundered down the corridor at him, weapon in his left hand and pulling a struggling Native woman by—a gun barrel—with his right?
“Yuvonovich?” He saw the woman’s left hand flash at her side. “What the hell are you do—”
With a quick, underhanded throw, Cora flashed the skinning knife into his throat, severing the jugular vein.
She told Yuvonovich to stop at the body. While she pulled the knife out, he glanced down.
“He wasn’t such a bad fellow even if he was a corporal.”
“Do you want to talk to the next one? Maybe save his life?”
He hesitated.
“Can’t talk that fast?” she asked.
“I can talk that fast, but he listens slow.”
“His loss.” She motioned the others forward. “Move out.”
As they hurried down the concrete corridor, a man stepped out of a doorway. He moved with the stately ponderousness of someone in charge of a secure world. By the time he looked up with studied indifference, Cora and Yuvonovich had closed to two meters.
“Sergeant!” Yuvonovich said urgently as he hurried toward the man.
“What?”
“Let loose of the barrel!” Cora snapped.
The sergeant grabbed at his weapon and she shot him once through the head. He slammed back and smeared down the wall. She shoved Yuvonovich to keep him from stopping.
“Get in there, now!”
He stiff-armed the metal door, ran down the short corridor to the radio room, and kicked the door open.
“Emergency! Emergency!” he shouted. Cora ran in behind him.
Two men wearing headsets sat in front of gray consoles. A third man, armed with one of the ubiquitous machine pistols, jerked to his feet, knocking over a cup of tea on the small table next to him. He brought the barrel up and pointed it at Yuvonovich.
“Get out of the way!” the guard screamed.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”
The guard didn’t hesitate. A burst of bullets threw Yuvonovich backward. The noise in the small room nearly deafened Cora.
She feinted to the side and put five rounds through the guard’s chest, knocking him into one of the radio operators.
“What the hell is going on here? What are you doing?” the other radioman shouted. The other five Indians and Stoddard crowded into the room.
“Freeze right where you are,” she said. “Put your hands on your head.”
“Yes. Whatever you say. Please don’t shoot.”
The other radioman lay under the guard’s bleeding body, his eyes wide.
“May I get up?”
With a quick thrust of her foot she shoved the body off the man.
“Yes. But very slowly. Don’t forget I am a nervous woman with an automatic weapon.”
