“Where did you get him?”
“Where do we get any of them?” Wing said, crossing the room and hugging the older woman. “How are you?”
“Tired.” She glanced at Grisha. “And the bearer of news.”
“Good or bad?” Wing asked.
“Both. What do you want to hear first?”
“Bad news first,” Grisha said, coming to his feet.
“You’ve been accused of war crimes by the Imperial Army. Armistice negotiations have broken down in San Francisco. The Russians refuse to continue until you are produced to answer their charges, or you’re relieved of command and imprisoned by us.”
“War crimes! What war crimes?”
“You’re accused of throwing a Russian major, a woman yet, out into minus sixty degrees without clothing.” Blue measured him with her eyes.
“Claude maintains that you wouldn’t do such a thing but we need you to go south, immediately.”
“It happened,” Grisha said softly and sat down in his chair. “But I didn’t do it.”
“Benny Jackson did it,” Wing said flatly. “I was there.”
“That’s true,” Grisha said. “I wanted to just kill her and get it over with. They want me to go south?”
Blue nodded. “The Californians are sending an aircraft for you.”
“What does the council say about it?”
“The war seems to be in a hiatus while the negotiations proceed. We’re eager for a resolution and a treaty. We feel very close to victory. There’s a lot of pressure being generated in Europe and even Imperial Japanese warships have been sighted off Kodiak Island.”
“It stinks,” Wing said flatly. “There’s more to this than meets the eye.”
“I asked the council to let me be the messenger. We figure no more than three days down there should do it. Think of it as a vacation, Grisha.”
“Am I being put on trial?”
“You’re to answer questions put to you by a panel of representatives. Two representatives from each member nation of the North American Treaty Organization as well as Imperial Russia and the Dena Republik. They have no true authority over you, this is all politics and propaganda. Smoke and mirrors.”
“Some vacation,” Wing muttered.
“You need to come back to Tanana with me. They’re going to pick you up in the morning. We’ll have to drive all night.”
Grisha felt his resolve waver. All of his instincts screamed in alarm but he could see no alternative. “I will obey the council’s wishes.”
“Grisha!” Wing moved between him and Blue. “Didn’t you hear me? This stinks, dammit. There’s something going on that they haven’t told us.”
“Who is they?” Blue said, sudden ice in her voice.
Wing swung around to face her. “This smells like a sacrifice to me. There are at least five witnesses still alive who could tell them that Grisha wasn’t the one who threw that bitch out into the cold. Has anyone asked the Californians about it? Has anyone asked Captain Jackson about it?”
“He’s a colonel now,” Blue snapped. “This is a delicate political situation. We have to give every indication of complying with the wishes of the NATO countries in order to maintain their backing, the ones we have, that is. We’re dead without them, don’t you see that?”
“All I see is that Grisha didn’t do what he’s accused of, that he’s doing a hell of a job and he’s needed right here until this whole thing is finished once and for all.”
“I have orders”—Blue tapped her pocket—“for Grisha to return to Tanana with me immediately. If you wish to question the council’s intelligence I suggest you accompany us back to Tanana. But one way or another, Grisha is going with me.”
“What do you mean, ‘one way or another’?” Grisha asked.
“This wasn’t my idea,” Blue said. “But they sent a squad with me as security and escort.”
“A squad!” Wing shrilled. “Do you realize this garrison would die for him if asked?”
“Yes.” Blue seemed on the verge of tears. “So please don’t push it.”
“Am I under arrest?” Grisha asked quietly.
“No. We’d never go that far. But we need you to go south and talk to these people, Grisha. Will you please do that?”
“Didn’t I tell you once that I’d do anything for the Dena Republik? Let me collect my things.”
“You said something about good news?” Wing said.
“Malagni!” Blue shouted.
The big man pushed through the door. The absence of his right arm in no way diminished him. He grinned fiercely.
“Two of my most favorite people in the world. Things must be tough to make you a colonel. But I have to tell you, your little ambush out there on the RustyCan really impressed me. That fancy-ass colonel your guys captured is a cousin of the Czar, and he’s blabbing his ass off.”
Grisha and Wing embraced him, patted his back. Wing reached up and kissed his cheek. “We were so worried about you.” Grisha stepped back, looked up into the man’s face. “Are you returning to duty?”
Malagni glanced at Blue. “You didn’t tell them?”
“Not all of it.”
He turned back to the others. “They made me a lieutenant colonel. I’m taking over Southern Command until you come back, Grisha. That okay with you?”
Conflicting emotions warred in Grisha’s mind. He tried to smile, wasn’t sure if he made it. “They couldn’t have chosen anyone better. Lieutenant Colonel Demoski is the best executive officer you could ask for.”
“I know. I want you to know that I’m doing this for you—when you get back there’s no question as to who’s the skipper.”
61
The ride west to Tanana proved wearisome and tedious. Blue retreated into herself and spoke only when addressed. Grisha quickly tired of initiating one-sided conversation and lapsed into moody silence.
A new fortification bristled with armament on the near bank of the Yukon River.
“If the gate is breached, the bridge blows up,” Blue said. “All the people on this side are volunteers.”
“Is there anyone in this army who isn’t a volunteer?” Grisha asked. The truck rumbled across the bridge and he stared at the rotten ice on the Yukon.
“When will the ice go out?”
“Any day now,” Blue said, clearly pleased to dwell on a safe subject.
“We have a lottery going for the day and hour it goes. The engineers built a little box that’s hooked to a clock on the shore. When the cable pulls on the clock it stops running—the ice has officially gone out and we know the winning time.”
Grisha laughed. “Sounds like morale is high on the Yukon.”
“It is. And let me tell you, Colonel Grigoriy Grigorievich is a hero to the Athabascan People. It pains me to be part of this dog-shit political posturing. But it’s all for the Republik, right?”
“Right.” Grisha felt embarrassed at her effusiveness. Blue remained in the scout car when Grisha got out.
“Good luck, Grisha,” she called.
A matte-black twin-engined bomber with three gold stars triangulated on its tail waited on the runway built on the ridge behind the village, props ticking at idle. Two fighters roared in wide circles above. An entrenched antiaircraft battery manned by Republic of California troops bristled near the taxi strip.
