The other officers edged away from the Okhana captain. General Myslosovich cleared his throat and all eyes fastened on his fat, red face.
Bear smiled. Put tusks under that moustache and the first Eskimo he came across would have him for dinner.
“Radio the main column to make all speed and catch up with us. We may need them to consolidate our holdings. I want an immediate artillery barrage on the barricade and everything within five hundred meters of it. Then I want armor to advance all the way to Chena Redoubt.”
When Myslosovich spoke his jowls quivered, enhancing the walrus illusion. Bear looked away so they couldn’t see his grin.
“Infantry will follow armor. Mop up anything the tanks leave behind. Short and sweet. Any questions?”
“General, I understand they have antitank weapons.” The tanker lieutenant. colonel let his voice drift away as Myslosovich glared at him.
“That’s what your cannon are for, Colonel. Besides, the Siberian Tigers are up there clearing out that sort of thing right now.”
Bear felt impressed despite himself. The Siberian Tigers were the best commandos the Czar had. They all had to serve four years in the regular army before they could volunteer for the elite force. Their training proved so grueling that, of every one hundred recruits who began the program, three finished.
Bear almost felt sorry for the Indians.
The officers hurried off, shouting orders. General Myslosovich sat back with a grunt.
“I want to fight,” Bear said. Grigorievich’s visage hung in his mind like a cloud of mosquitoes. “There are Indians out there I have sworn to kill.”
“You swear a great deal, woodsman. Why didn’t you kill them when you had the chance?”
“I did kill one of them, a traitor to the Czar.” Bear let his voice carry insult. “He was a Russian Army officer.”
“Do you know his name?” Myslosovich seemed guarded.
“Captain Nikolai Rezanov, an Okhana Cossack.”
“General Alexandr Rezanov’s son? You killed him?”
“Yes. He joined the Dena. Because of him I will wear this for the rest of my life.” Bear pointed to his scarred face. “The man who did this is still alive, and I must change that.”
“You may join the infantry elements going in behind the tanks.” The walrus eyes squinted to slits. “If you try to desert I’ll have you shot.”
“If I chose to desert and couldn’t evade this band of street urchins, I deserve to be shot.” Bear stepped out and slammed the door behind him. He retrieved his gear from the boot and went looking for the infantry.
75
Wing paused in her inspection tour of the front line, puzzling over the whooshing sound.
Major Heinrich Smolst bellowed, “INCOMING!”
Everybody hit the ground as the first salvo smashed into the log fortification and the minefield.
Wing tried to run but the concussion of the exploding shells and detonating mines knocked her off her feet, pummeling her with invisible clubs. Bits of wood and rock whirred past her. She realized those splinters and stones could kill as easily as a bullet.
The six pieces of U.S. artillery fired at the same time, adding to the maelstrom of sound. One of them took a direct hit, wiping out the crew and throwing pieces of cannon into two others.
Wing hugged the ground, trying to make herself small, as the barrage continued. A peek at the rapidly disintegrating barricade over the highway told her their three weeks of hard work was for nothing. The exploding shells didn’t seem as loud and she felt thankful.
A body crashed into her and she turned to see Major Smolst. His mouth moved but she couldn’t hear his words.
“What?” she yelled.
Smolst frowned at her. “You must get out of here!” he shouted.
His words sounded distant, muffled.
Wing realized her eardrums had been damaged by the barrage. She yelled,
“I tried to run but I keep getting knocked down.”
Abruptly the Russian shelling ceased. Although the world seemed packed with cotton, her ears hurt.
Smolst pulled her to her feet. “C’mon, if I don’t get you back to safety, Grisha will have my ass.”
Wing laughed. “Why, are you responsible for me?”
Smolst looked troubled. “Of course not.”
“You really are responsible for me?” She felt dumbfounded. She had been in the Dena army for ten years. Who did Grisha think he was? She had rescued
Smolst grabbed her arm. “Tanks. We have to fall back.”
She stared through the cordite-rich smoke. A line of Zukhov battle tanks roared toward them at speed. Wing couldn’t hear them.
“Yeah, let’s go.” They ran toward the second line of defense, a kilometer away. Many others ran with them.
A few heavily armed squads had dug in and aimed shoulder launchers and heavy machine guns toward the advancing machines. One of the launchers spat fire and Wing glanced back in time to see the lead tank explode.
Three of the U.S. field pieces opened up on the Russians. dropping shells on the road and into the APCs supporting the tanks. A Russian tank exploded from a direct hit.
A bullet hit Smolst in his upper left arm, blowing blood, meat, and cloth away in a miniature cloud. Crying out, he spun and fell. Wing stopped and reached down to help him up. Something snapped past her ear.
“Major Smolst, come on!” She tugged his good arm and he bared his teeth in pain but staggered to his feet.
She looked up and saw men in camouflage attacking from the left flank. They had her people caught in a cross fire. She jerked Smolst down into a firing pit where one of three men still moved.
“Where’d they come from?” the trooper asked. She recognized Leroy, one of Blue’s cousins from Nulato.
“Are you hit?”
“Not yet. Help me load this thing.”
Smolst tore at his bloody sleeve. “Shit, shit, shit!” He pulled a belt off one of the dead troopers and cinched it around his bicep.
Leroy and Wing struggled with the heavy ammunition belt until it clicked into the feed slot. He snapped the bolt back once, took aim at the figures advancing from the tree line, and commenced firing short bursts.
Wing saw two attackers go down. She pulled a rocket launcher from beneath one of the dead men. The tanks were now five abreast and approaching the far side of the Chena. She waited, wondering if all the mines had been detonated by the barrage.
As if in answer, the right track blew off the middle tank. The other four continued down the bank. Another artillery round exploded between the tanks, throwing mud and moss over everything.
Two of the tanks stopped and the other two rumbled into the river and completely submerged. They didn’t come out. Wing took careful aim and fired the antitank rocket. One of the remaining tanks gushed fire and the crew boiled out of the turret hatch as the machine began to burn.
Something knocked the rocket launcher out of her hands and she realized the enemy flankers hadn’t gone to
