As he hesitated for a moment, she plunged forward.
“You wish to change some things but not everything?” she asked with a smile.
“That’s an excellent way to put it, Col—uh, Wing,” Colonel George said with enthusiasm.
“So what do you want to change and what do you want to keep?” Grisha held his smile in his eyes.
The omnibus stopped.
“Please, let us discuss this over food,” General Sobolof said. “You all must be hungry.”
“I think we can all agree on that,” Sergeant Major Tobias said, beaming all around.
The Yéil naa, or Raven clan house was large and comfortable. Many paintings and carvings depicting Raven decorated the walls. At the far end stood an eight-foot traditional carving of Raven done in highly polished black stone. The yellow cedar floor was nearly reflective enough to use as a mirror.
In the center of the building stood a blazing rock fireplace open on all four sides, and every rock was carved with hieroglyphics. Each red cedar plank wall featured a beautiful Chilkat blanket flanked by button blankets.
Wing turned to stare back at the entrance. The entire doorway was the open mouth of a huge totemic frog.
“That’s the Kiks.ádi door,” Colonel Paul said. “We are especially proud of that work.”
“You have every right to be,” Wing said in a hushed tone. “It’s magnificent.”
Four women stood close to the great fireplace, cooking on wide sheets of steel suspended over the flames. The aroma of exotic foods filled the clan house and a wave of rightness washed over him as Grisha suddenly realized how hungry he was and how familiar this all smelled.
53
Delta
“See?” Jimmy Deerkiller whispered. “Right through those rocks there, it’s the guy who was asking all them questions a couple months ago.”
Ben Teske stared hard, licked his lips and eased his .338 magnum up, balanced it on the rock in front of them and squinted through the telescopic sight. “Yep, it’s him all right.”
“There’s someone with him,” Jimmy hissed.
Ben moved the weapon slightly. “Looks like an Eskimo in a Russian uniform.”
“They’re trackin’ us,” Jimmy said as he lifted his weapon and laid it across the boulder beside Ben’s.
“You take right and I’ll take left,” Ben said, peering through the scope.
“I’ll do the count.” Jimmy licked his lips again. “One. Two. Fire!”
The two trackers both fell backwards with destroyed heads.
Ben stared down the trail. Jimmy bent over, “Don’t forget your brass.”
“Yeah. Y’know, I think I killed a couple guys in the fight that night, but I couldn’t see ’em like this: up close and in the daytime.”
“I think you better get used to it, brother.”
Pelagian crept up behind them.
“Okay, guys, as soon as you see more troops coming toward you, fall back to the first line. Okay?”
“We’ll do it, Pelagian.” Jimmy turned and watched the big man fade into the brush. “Y’know, when I was a kid I used to be afraid of him.”
“Why?”
“He’s so damned big. I used to think he was some sorta monster.”
“I always felt safe around him,” Ben said, still watching the slope below them. “He never—hey, did you see that?”
“What?” Jimmy stared down into the hazy summer afternoon.
“I thought I saw someone, but they dropped before I could really be sure.”
“Scan your side,” Jimmy said and went silent.
They intently watched the 180 degrees of slope before them. Nothing moved; the ground lay bereft of life. Ben found himself staring at the boot propped up on a rock, where one of the trackers had fallen.
Motion flickered on the left in his peripheral vision and he snapped his gaze onto it without moving his head: two men in mottled green-to-black field dress. He grabbed Jimmy and pulled him down with him as he dropped behind the boulder.
“Wha—?” Jimmy blurted. The sound of his voice was abruptly obliterated by heavy machine gun fire chipping rock and blasting the top of their boulder. Ricochets whined off into space.
“Damn!” Jimmy said. “Thanks, man.”
“We need to withdraw, right now.”
“I’m right behind you.”
54
Over the Dená Republik
Jerry felt totally at home for the first time in what seemed like forever. The P-61 responded under his hands like an eager lover who understands exactly what is wanted of her. Magda’s presence suddenly suffused him and he forced the thought of her out of his mind.
This was deadly business and he needed to maintain vigilance if he wanted to kiss her again.
“Captain Yamato,” Colonel Shipley’s voice crackled in the headset. “You know where we’re going, so you take point.”
“Yes, sir!”
The Alaskan landscape rushed beneath them in full spring fecundity and bright morning brilliance. Numerous tree-shadowed lakes, large and small, reflected their swift passage. Yamato turned to the south and the flight crossed the wide, brown Yukon River and paralleled the famous Russia-Canada Highway. Jerry knew it led to Magda and St. Anthony Redoubt.
Shipley ordered the ten fighters to spread out. “Keep your eyes peeled; this is still Russian air space and until President Reagan says otherwise, we’re still at war.”
Jerry kept his eyes on the road below them, noticing the small outposts every few miles. What had Magda called them? He felt completely serene and ready to blow hell out of the Russian armor gathering at St. Anthony Redoubt.
“Colonel, Ellis here!”
“Go ahead, roger.”
“We have bandits at two o’clock.”
“Bandits?” someone said with evident disbelief.
“Cut the chatter!” Shipley ordered. “Okay, I see them. Ellis, Fowler, put your glasses on them and tell me I’m wrong.”
“Wrong about what, Skipper?” Jerry asked.
“I count six Russian Yormolaev-2 bombers with eight Yak fighters and a Sturmovik flying cover,” Fowler reported. “Looks like they’re headed for Chena or Fort Yukon.”
“I concur,” Ellis said. “They must be out of St. Nicholas Airdrome.”
“I don’t think they’ve seen us yet,” Shipley said. “Probably because they’re an easy 5,000 feet higher than we are. Captain Currie, alert Dená Command, we’re going to engage.”
Jerry’s heart fell, but he knew Colonel Shipley was making the only realistic decision.
“We’re gonna hit them as hard as we can,” Shipley said. “Major Ellis, you are now Sucker Punch Two. Take Currie, Donaldson, Cooper and Cassaro, cut right and stay on the deck until you’re under the bombers, then blow them out of the air.”
“Yes, sir.” The five Eurekas banked and dropped almost to treetop level on a course to intercept the now-distinct Russian aircraft.
“Fowler, Yamato, Hafs, and Kirby—you’re with me, Sucker Punch One. We’re going to bore straight in and hit the fighters. If we’re real lucky and they’ve all got hangovers, we might pull this off.”
“This is a lot more interesting than hitting an armored column,” First Lieutenant Hafs said. “And I love the odds.”
“I always knew you were crazy, Mark,” Yamato said with a grim laugh. “This just proves it.”
“As soon as we know they’ve seen us,” Lieutenant Colonel Shipley said, “drop your wing tanks. We’re going to need all the agility we can muster.”