Russian Amerika: Chapter Thirty Three

33 - On the Russian-Canada Highway near the Tanana River

    The halftrack roared down the snowy road at an impressive forty kilometers per hour. Grisha, watching ahead carefully, bounced on the front seat between the driver and Colonel Yuganin. Behind them five trucks, carrying twenty troopers each and a sixth truck loaded with reserve ammunition and weapons, gamely kept pace. Three tanks followed at top speed, barely keeping up.

    Engine noise threatened his hearing. Diesel fumes would have asphyxiated them had the cab sealed properly. Cold air streamed over their feet, producing borderline frostbite. Their bodies shook with the jarring violence of the ride.

    The RustyCan wound between ridges in this part of Russian Amerika, and just ahead of them, the ridges came together. The halftrack roared into a cut started centuries ago by the Tanana River and widened by Russian engineers forty years before during the World War. Off to the left lay the silent, frozen river and ahead on the right tilted the fifteen meter rock known to the Dena' as "the Sentinel".

    "I am going to burst if I don't piss!" Grisha shouted to the colonel.

    "So burst."

    They traveled another hundred meters before the officer shouted at the driver.

    "Stop as soon as you can. The men will need to limber up before we get to the battle zone."

    The driver obediently down-shifted and flicked on his signal lamps. Moments later they stopped and the engine idled down to a mere growl. The colonel slid out and walked back to confer with his officers.

    Grisha glanced over at the driver. The man urinated at the side of his halftrack, stretched, and broke wind at the same time. At the far end of the column, tankers crawled out of their armored behemoths to join their comrades and relieve themselves in the snow.

    Grisha wandered over to the river and looked down the ice-crusted bank.

    A dozen weapons pointed at him before whispered word passed as to his identity. He grinned and stepped off the bank, slid down to join the string of pitifully few men and women who comprised this portion of the Dena' Army. As soon as he stopped, others quickly moved up and took position.

    Far down the twisting bank he could see figures hurrying toward the ambush site. Grisha thought there would be more people than the twenty he counted.

    "Dublinnik!" the colonel's voice shouted. "Sasha Dublinnik! Where are you?"

    A woman he had seen at Minto gave him a bolt-action rifle and a box of rounds. He quickly opened the chamber and peered down the barrel before loading. In a moment he was back to the edge of the bank.

    He poked his head up slowly and carefully slid the weapon onto the icy ledge. He sensed movement next to him and Malagni whispered, "You get the first shot."

    Grisha nodded and took careful aim at the colonel. There weren't enough of them at the edge of the bank to kill all the Russians. At least, he decided, they wouldn't have the colonel to contend with.

    Colonel Yuganin twisted his head about, searching for Grisha, composure and control slipping.

    "Sasha Dublinnik!" he shouted again. "Where are you?" His eyes ran along the snowy bank and suddenly locked on Grisha's face. His mouth dropped open in disbelief before he recovered and turned to scream at his men.

    Grisha squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit Yuganin in the right side of the temple and blew the left half of his head into a pink splatter. The shot sparked a slaughter.

    Murderous fire erupted from the river bank as well as the ridge on the other side of the road - whipping the column in a crossfire. The sudden barrage startled Grisha into immobility for a long moment. Cossacks and soldiers went down like wheat under a lead scythe.

    The Russians didn't get off a shot. Bodies littered the road, staining the snow red with blood. A whistle cut through the firing and the shooting abruptly stopped.

    Two men sprinted out of the brush and darted up to the still-idling vehicles. The middle tank spun around on one tread and began to negotiate its way around the end machine. Another figure dashed out of the trees and scrambled up onto the clanking, lurching weapon. Grisha recognized Wing and an icy hand clutched at his heart.

    She screamed something down into the tank. It stopped. She moved back and a pair of hands showed over the hatch rim. In moments the driver stepped out onto the turret, tears streaming down his youthful face.

    Another whistle broke across the murmuring convoy and two waves of humanity converged on the tanker and his dead column. Grisha walked over to the colonel who lay face-down in the snow and rolled him over with his foot. Even in death what was left of Yuganin's face radiated arrogance.

    Malagni walked up and slapped Grisha on the back. "Perfect. You couldn't have timed it any better."

    "Any word from Cora? They locked her up."

    "The attack on Chena is already underway, so she must have come through just fine."

    Wing trotted up, a beatific smile curling her scar almost double.

    "We did it! We really did it." She abruptly hugged both men at once. "Now we have to get back to Chena and prepare for the counter-attack."

    "When do we get to stop fighting?" Grisha asked.

    "When the Russians surrender," Malagni said, striding away down the column.

    "I don't think he could live without war," Wing murmured.

    "When I saw you leap onto that tank my heart nearly stopped." He stared at her strong, proud profile, knowing that if he ever trusted his heart to a woman again it would be her.

    "Yeah," she turned to face him, "I felt pretty good when I saw you get out of that truck. You're important to me, Grigoriy Grigorievich, don't forget that. But there's this thing called war that we gotta get through first."

    "Where's Nik?"

    She glanced at Malagni's retreating back. "He's with Nathan at Chena Redoubt."

    "Oh."

    "We haven't heard a word from them since they began the attack."

    "How long ago was that?"

    She finally looked up at him. "About an hour."

    "What about the Russians of the Troika Guard I saw, are we going to finish them off?"

    She smiled.

    "The only Troika Guards alive at the battle zone had come over to our side. The battle you saw from the helicopter was a charade. But their commander wants to meet you as soon as possible."

    "What's his name and rank?"

    "I think he is a captain by the name of Smolst, do you know him?"

    Grisha laughed and danced in a circle.

    "I'll take that as a 'yes'," Wing said with a smile. "Catch up with Malagni, you and he are going to take the lead."

    Grisha gave her a level stare. "See you in Chena."