“Do you think Russian soldiers would join the Dená?”
The six officers grew quiet. Only two of the six would meet his gaze.
“I think they would, too,” Lieutenant Colonel Janeki said. “Especially the lower ranks.”
“If we capture any Russian renegades, I think they should be shot!” Major Pyotr Bulganin snapped.
“Absolutely,” Samedi said. “For now, I want every weapon loaded and ready to fire. Put as many tanks abreast as the terrain allows, with the rest of our armor behind them. We’re going to hit them with everything we’ve got.”
The officers ran to carry out his orders.
48
Battle of Delta
Colonel Del Buhrman held the binoculars to his eyes and watched the Russian armor below the ridge where the 3rd PIR waited for events.
“I believe this thing is working, Sergeant Scally, both sides haven’t wavered.”
“They told us at the Weasel Works in Fresno that it would work better if you were closer to the target, but I think we’re delivering hash to all concerned.”
Buhrman lowered his binoculars and regarded the clear-eyed youth.
“Well, you just made first sergeant with your little magic box there.”
“Thank you, sir! I can use the money.” He bent back to the machine and gave one knob a slight nudge. “But it’s really the scrambler doing all the work.”
Buhrman stared down at the Third Armored and the unknown unit they had met. The Californians had watched the whole thing from their vantage point on the ridge. At first Colonel Buhrman thought there was going to be a fight, but the two units had parleyed instead.
The unknowns had Russian tanks but the Imperial double-headed eagle had been painted over with a stylized “IF” and the Russians hadn’t paid it any mind.
“If they had Fremont tanks, I’d sure as hell want to know where they got them!”
“Colonel?” Scally looked up from his scrambler.
“Just talking to myself, Ryan. One of my bad habits.”
“Gosh, Colonel, I didn’t know you had any other kind.”
“Sergeant Scally, mind your machine if you want to keep all of your stripes.”
“Yes, sir!”
As they watched, the Russians began firing on each other.
49
Battle of Delta
“Incoming!” screamed Sergeant Yalushin of the Third Armored. A deadly rain of cannon shells impacted among the leading elements. One of their precious tanks took a direct hit and promptly exploded, raining debris across the column.
“Fire at will!” Major Riordan screamed. All seven remaining tanks of the Third Armored and the International Freekorps answered in unison, filling the road ahead with armor-piercing shells.
The Imperial Fifth Armored took massive damage, losing a fifth of their strength in moments. The entirety of the first wave of tanks and half of those in the second wave received direct hits, bursting their hulls and killing their crews.
Both columns rocked to a halt during the exchange but continued firing.
“Major Riordan!” General Myslosovich bellowed. “We are being annihilated.” Explosions bracketed the column while tanks and APCs in the middle of the force took direct hits and exploded.
“We must surrender!” Riordan screamed back. “They’re too much for us!”
“Agreed!”
A white flag surfaced almost immediately when the word of surrender passed back through the ranks. The terrible shelling ceased and five minutes later a scout car bearing a white flag emerged from the dust cloud hanging over the road.
General Myslosovich felt like taking his own life. He may as welclass="underline" two defeats in six days meant his career had ended, no matter to whom he was related. The scout car stopped in front of them and an Imperial Russian Army major stepped out, straightened his tunic and marched toward their vehicle.
“That’s a Russian column, isn’t it?” Riordan said with defeat evident in his voice.
“Yes,” said General Myslosovich, feeling an intense headache explode between his eyes. “We have been fighting our own people.”
The major strode up to them and snapped to attention.
“In the name of Lieutenant Colonel Samedi Janeki of the Imperial Russian Army, I demand your immediate surrender.”
“Christ, man!” General Myslosovich shrilled. “We are the Russian Army!”
50
Fort Yukon, Dená Republik
“Lieutenant Yamato, I don’t think it’s advisable for you to fly,” Lieutenant Colonel James Burton said.
“You’re the flight surgeon. You can order me not to go up, but if it’s my decision, I’m on my way.”
“Your wound is as good as it can be; the stitches make a big difference. I think you could use some more rest, but your responses are fine and I know you have more investment in this war than others.”
“And I told them I’d be back with modern aircraft.”
“That’s a beautiful bird you brought in. The mechanics are treating it like royalty.”
“They know quality when they see it, sir.”
“Okay, you’re back on the flight list. I’ll call Major Shipley and tell him you’re cleared.”
“Thank you, Colonel Burton.” With a salute Jerry was out the door and hurrying toward the flight line. He entered the Operations Building next to the hangar.
A sergeant in ROC uniform looked up from the front desk.
“May I help you, Lieutenant?”
“I need a plane.”
“Your name, sir?”
“First Lieutenant Gerald Yamato, 117th Fighter Squadron, ROC.”
“You were shot down out there in the wilderness, right, sir?”
“Yeah, I sure as hell was.”
“Through that door, Lieutenant Yamato”—the sergeant pointed—“you’ll find the Operations officer. He has all the planes. Glad you made it, sir.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. I’m glad I made it, too.”
He pushed through the door where a corporal glanced up from a typewriter. “Hi, Lieutenant Yamato, welcome back.”
“Corporal Anderson, it’s good to see you.” Jerry immediately turned his attention to the Flight Status Board. “Wow, we have seven operational birds and all of them are on the ground?”
“We’ve been ordered to stand down, Jerry,” Major Shipley said, coming out of his office. Captain Kirby and Lieutenant Currie trailed him.
Jerry snapped to attention and saluted his commanding officer. “Congratulations on your promotion, sir. Good to see you.”
Shipley returned the salute. “Thanks, but I’d rather still be the XO and have Major Hurley back. You’ve done a hell of a fine job, Lieutenant, or should I say, Captain?”
“Major?”
“Actually that’s wrong too. I received a message from Sacramento this morning promoting the entire squadron to the next rank. It seems we benefited from some good press over our battle with the Russian armored column.”
“That’s because there weren’t any reporters there,” Captain Kirby said.
When they finished laughing, Jerry asked, “So is the war over?”
“Not that I’ve heard. This morning we had orders from Dená Southern Command to stand down for the day, no reasons why, but then we’re just a bunch of fighter jockeys, right?”
“Maj— Colonel Shipley, I have obligations which require the use of a P-61.”
“You have military obligations beyond this squadron?”
“I told them at Delta that I’d be back with a modern aircraft and help them in the fight that’s imminent.”
“When you were debriefed upon your return last night, all the information was sent to DSC. Their orders as of this morning were quite explicit.”