Russian Amerika: Chapter Fifty Four

54 - Russia-Canada Highway East of Chena Redoubt

    Colonel Konstine Kronov sat stolidly next to his driver as they inched along the snow-covered Russia-Canada Highway. The last time he had been in Alaska was as a junior officer back in the '60s. His star had risen dramatically since then and he expected his troops to make short work of this rebellion.

    Two days ago the Czar had personally given him command of all Imperial forces in Russian Amerika until this revolt ended. The rebels would hang, Kronov decided, as an object lesson for Mother Russia's other ethnic peoples. General rank waited at the end of this expedition, he felt sure.

    He tried not to think about how few troops he had under his command, and how quickly he and his staff of four had thrown together this bare-bones response. What little intelligence he had about the rebels pointed to a small force, inexpertly commanded, and poorly trained. His response counted heavily on that intelligence. More troops were enroute, but vast distances were involved.

    "Captain Kashan to Colonel Kronov," the radio crackled.

    Kronov picked up the microphone. "Report."

    "Colonel, all of the Wolf Pack are dead. The road has been destroyed for nearly 200 meters, including the bridge. There is no sign of the rebels."

    "Thank you, captain. We'll just have to drive on the taiga and ford the creek. Kronov clear."

    He frowned. The Wolf Pack must have been ineptly lead. How could a mob of savages and Creoles eliminate the best Imperial Army troops in Alaska? Those people were usually predictable.

    The three tanks and two trucks in front of his command car detoured off the roadbed and crept between the shattered road surface and the dark stand of spruce and birch. The colonel stared at the wrecked road and wondered where the rebels had obtained the explosives. He'd forgotten how desolate Russian Amerika could be.

    The command car bumped along behind the trucks. Behind the car rumbled a half dozen armored personnel carriers and a half dozen tanks. Reducing what was left of Chena Redoubt would be child's play with this much fire power.

    It had been but a few weeks since the Imperial Air Corps had blasted the redoubt. High Command told him that most of the rebels there had been annihilated. This should be an easy campaign.

    A heart-stopping blast shattered the truck directly in front of the car. A few screaming soldiers, bodies engulfed in flames, fell out of the back and thrashed on the ground.

    Kronov grabbed his microphone and screamed, "Deploy, deploy, get out of line immediately!"

    One tank turned and began grinding up over the rubble of the road. Suddenly an explosion went off under the lumbering giant, lifting it off the ground and blowing off one track - throwing the treads back into the trucks like shrapnel. Before the tank could fall completely to the ground ammunition stored inside exploded and the machine contorted like a living thing as it died.

    "Mines!" Kronov screamed at his white-faced driver. "They've mined the roadside. Don't move this car another inch until our men have had a chance to clear the area."

    The corporal pointed to the burning tank. "How did they mine something they already blew up?"

    "What do you mean?" Kronov said in a shrill voice.

    "Shouldn't the explosion of the road bed have set off any mines this close?"

    "Yes."

    The tank behind them blew up. Ahead of them a streak of fire shot out of the forest and hit one of the two remaining advance tanks. Two men pulled themselves out of an escape hatch seconds before the inside of the tank exploded.

    Gunfire cut the two soldiers down.

    "It's an ambush," Kronov screamed into his microphone. "Take evasive action." He switched radio channels. "Tetlin Command, this is Kronov. We need air support immediately."

    "What's your location, colonel?" the distant radio operator asked.

    "Where the fighters were shot down. I was told this area had been cleansed." He broke off, suddenly conscious of the shrill panic in his voice.

    "I'm sorry, colonel," the radio voice said, "but we have no aircraft close enough to support you at this time."

    The last operational tank in front of him opened fire with its cannon and heavy machine gun. Two more streaks lanced out of the forest and hit the tank. The machine blew into bits, setting fire to the truck behind it.

    Kronov expected soldiers to leap out of the truck and take defensive action but nothing of the sort happened.

    He numbly dropped the microphone. "My God," he said to the corporal. "They all must be dead."

    The corporal abruptly put the car in reverse and backed close to the burning tank behind them before jamming the gear shift forward and stomping on the accelerator. The car slewed around in a tight arc and bounced back past burning tanks and the bodies of soldiers. Kronov beheld a scene from hell.

    Every tank was burning and all but two of the trucks were also in flames. The bodies of his soldiers lay scattered like toys after a child's game. The corporal grimly drove over a number of bodies in his haste.

    None cried out.

    For the first time in his life, Colonel Konstine Kronov felt true fear. He had never considered how helpless one might feel when afraid. Unbelievably, the command car roared up onto the undamaged portion of the highway.

    Even here lay Russian bodies in attitudes of violent death.

    Where was the enemy?

    The car picked up speed as they passed the last bullet-riddled truck. The corporal jammed on the brakes and the car skidded sideways before stopping. A log barrier spanned the road, providing shelter for the heavily armed people behind it.

    Kronov let his breath go and wondered how long he had been holding it. The sight of his enemies temporarily gave him something close to relief. At least now he knew they were fighting humans and not wraiths.

    Someone shouted in perfect Russian, "Get out of the vehicle with your hands clasped to your head. Now!" The corporal kicked open his door, grabbed his head fiercely with both hands and stepped out of the car.

    "Tell your officer that we will kill him if he does not get out of the vehicle."

    The corporal bent down and peered in at Kronov. "Colonel-"

    "I hear them, you idiot." He opened his door and stood full length before putting his hands on his head as insolently as possible. "I am Colonel Konstine Kronov of the Imperial Russian Army. Who are you and by what authority do you stop me from my duty?"

    "You've got more balls than brains, Konstine," a man said in Russian. "But then, that's what the Czar likes in his cannon fodder."

    "Who are you?"

    "My name is Basil, and not all that long ago, I was a slave of the Czar's. Now I'm sergeant in the Dena' Republik Army and under that authority I make you my prisoner."

    "Why do you not kill me as you have my troops?"

    Basil gave him a gap-toothed smile. "You'll see."