gave them the most sinister air.
The United States had sent a gimlet-eyed admiral and a cadaverous general as their representatives. Even to Grisha’s untutored eye, they seemed very chummy with the Russians next to them.
A tall, broad-faced man wearing a three-piece-suit and two long braids wrapped in ermine sat staring fixedly at him. Next to the tall man sat a stocky, dark-eyed man with a proud face and a prominent hooked nose. He was dressed in starched camouflaged dungarees adorned with a silver bison’s head on each shoulder. The First People’s Nation delegation, Grisha decided.
No representative from the Dena Republik was present.
Twenty judges. He suddenly realized the Confederate general hadn’t finished addressing him.
“…by our governments to ascertain if you are a war criminal or have led others in your organization to perpetuate atrocities on your enemies.” General Carter paused for a long moment, his eyes never leaving Grisha’s face.
“These are very serious charges, Colonel, and I must tell you frankly that more hinges on your answers than just your reputation among North American nations.”
Grisha nodded. “I appreciate your advice, General Carter, and I thank you for it. I am here of my own volition, even though I have troops in the field under my command who expect a counter-attack at any moment.” He gave the Russians a hard look before returning his gaze to the general.
“Neither I, nor any of the people fighting for the liberation of the Dena Republik, have committed any atrocities or other actions that could be determined criminal under conditions of war. I would like to make this appearance as brief as possible in order to return to my command.”
“Your concern is well taken, sir,” General Carter said softly.
“However, the charge against you is of a grievous nature and must be dealt with before our governments will return to the conference table to help chart the future of your nation’s political aspirations.”
“Under the rules of the tribunal,” Grisha said quickly, “am I allowed to call in witnesses of my own?”
“Certainly, suh. This is not a kangaroo court.”
“Then I request that Colonel Benny Jackson be summoned to speak to this gathering.”
“Under what flag does Colonel Jackson serve?”
“The Republic of California.”
General Carter nodded to a Confederate captain standing by the door and the man hurried away. “Do you have any other requests, colonel?”
“I’d like to know why there are no representatives from the Dena
Republik at this hear—uh, tribunal.”
“They were invited to attend but they declined. Ambassador Adams said that you were quite able to handle anything we could throw at you.”
Grisha felt a shadow flit across his mind, leaving Wing’s
“I’m sure the ambassador is correct, General,” Grisha said, surprised that his suddenly dry throat could produce words. “Please continue.”
“You are charged with exposing a naked prisoner of war to subzero cold,” General Carter said succinctly. “Is this true?”
“No. I was asleep when Major Kominskiya was expelled from our shelter.”
“Who, then, forced her into the night?” the Russian major general asked in acid tones.
“I did.”
All eyes in the room shifted to the crisply uniformed man standing at the door.
“Benny!” Grisha blurted before he could stop himself.
“Would you please identify yourself to this tribunal, colonel?” General Carter said.
“Colonel Bernard Jackson, Special Forces, Army of the Republic of California.”
“Please take the seat next to Colonel Grigorievich.”
As Benny sat down he flashed a smile and muttered, “You’re a colonel?
Must be scraping the bottom of the barrel up north.”
Grisha smiled and nodded toward the silver bear head on Benny’s shoulder. “As if they weren’t down here.”
“Would you be good enough to explain what happened that night, Colonel Jackson?” General Carter said.
“I lost the person I loved most, and Major Kominskiya killed him,” Benny said in a ringing voice.
Some of the officers muttered to each other and, with the exception of the Californians, the First People’s Nation representatives, and the Frenchmen, all glowered at him. Both generals from Deseret sat back stiffly in their chairs.
“I realize that most of you find homosexuality offensive and therefore are probably incapable of understanding my feelings that night. But I’ll relate it for you anyway.” Benny told of the battle for Chena Redoubt in the bitter cold. He spoke of the people he knew for such a short time. Slayer-of-Men had impressed him and in Haimish he recognized a kindred spirit and fellow operative.
The capture of Valari and the
“How did you know she had a radio, Colonel?”
Benny hesitated for half a heartbeat before replying, “I think one of the Dena heard it.”
“You’re a liar, colonel,” the Russian said softly.
A sharp intake of breath came from the California contingent and one of the Canadian generals mumbled, “I say!”
“The radio Major Kominskiya wore that night”—the Russian’s eyes shone with eagerness masked from his speech—“did not have a receiver or a speaker. Nothing could be heard. I repeat, how did you know of the radio?”
Benny frowned and glanced at Grisha before replying. “That’s a military secret, general. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
“It’s a secret, all right,” the general said in a controlled voice. “A hidden mutation used on behalf of these rebels. Do you deny that one of the Dena”—he spat the word—“read her mind in order to discover the hidden transmitter?”
“We deny nothing,” Grisha said. “We merely wait for your proof.”
The First People’s Nation representatives conferred without taking their eyes off Benny.
“Please continue, Colonel Jackson,” General Carter said, shooting a quick frown at the Russians.
“Colonel Grigorievich tried to shoot her on the spot. But at that moment Russian aircraft, homing in on her radio, bombed the redoubt, killing eighty percent of the people in the building. Alf Rosario, my constant companion of twelve years, was part of that eighty percent.”
Benny abruptly fell silent and stared down at the floor for a long moment. Grisha could see his jaw muscles working. The U.S. admiral broke the silence.
“Colonel Jackson, I would like to repeat General Romanov’s question. How did you know Major Kominskiya had a transmitter?”
Before Benny could say anything, General Carter slapped the table with the flat of his hand.
“That’s enough! We’re here to determine if a war crime was committednot to delve into intelligence matters despite how arcane they might appear.”
The admiral scowled, pursed his fleshy lips, and nodded, leaning back in his chair.
“We found a stairway,” Benny continued. He succinctly related the events in the frigid dungeon of Chena Redoubt, told of Nik’s death as dispassionately as of Crepov’s escape. Grisha listened carefully as Benny told about Valari’s foolish attempt to seduce him.
“So I let her undress and then I threw her outside.”
“Why didn’t you just shoot her?” General Carter asked quietly.
“I didn’t want her death to be quick.” Benny’s voice was a snarl. “I wanted her to suffer.”
“I wish to call a witness,” General Romanov said.
