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“Cease-fire order? Why would they do that, we’re just getting started in this wasteland. Only a small fraction of the army has been committed to stop this piddling revolt.”

“It’s not common knowledge yet. Imperial Command is trying to pull its fat out of the fire, but most of the Pacific Fleet went to the bottom day before yesterday, courtesy of the Republic of California Navy.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Janeki breathed into the microphone.

“It gets worse, Samedi. No sooner than the diplomats asked for peace terms, the Japanese Navy started shelling Naval Base Kodiak.”

“The Japanese?” Janeki shouted. “Where the hell did they come from?”

“It seems the Kolosh are pulling the same crap on us the Dená did. Only they asked the Japanese for military aid rather than the USA or the ROC.”

“Who isn’t up here messing in our internal affairs?”

“As near as we can figure, the CSA, Republic of Texas, and Deseret.”

“Well that’s a damned relief, no religious zealots to worry about!”

“I don’t think the Mormons have an army as such.”

“Mormons? I was speaking of the Confederacy, wild-eyed Protestants to the last man.”

Colonel Skalovich’s laugh was genuine this time. “I’m glad you still have your sense of humor, my friend, because you’re going to need it.”

“Any idea when this cease-fire order will come down from on high?”

“No. We know the Baltic Fleet has steamed east to help, but we don’t know if they will be in time to make a difference. In my opinion, high command has put Alaska further down the list of important things to think about. I think they’re worried about Mother Russia’s east coast with the Japanese threat.”

“So we are fighting a lost cause, Georgi?”

“Perhaps, Samedi, perhaps.”

“Not if I can help it, old friend!”

3

Tanana Hospital, Dená Republik

“What is the status of our army, General Eluska?” General Grisha Grigorievich, commanding general of the fledgling Dená Republik Army asked impatiently from his hospital bed.

Paul Eluska flashed a shy grin and then settled back into his new role.

“Sorry about your leg, Grisha. I sent them California paratroopers under Colonel Buhrman and Major Smolst with a platoon of our guys after the retreating Russians. Between ’em they got about two hundred men. Then Colonel Jackson showed up with his California Rangers, another two hundred men, and I told him to go find Colonel Buhrman’s group and help out.”

“Are the Russians still fighting or just getting the hell out of Huslia?”

“They ain’t nowhere near Huslia, Grisha,” Paul said with a frown. “They’re headed for Delta.”

“I’m just trying to be funny or something, can’t do much else with this leg all trussed up. What’s in Delta?”

“That’s where St. Anthony Redoubt is, with a small Russian garrison that’s never seen combat yet, all fresh and ready to go.”

“Any idea how many?”

“Last I heard from Doyon Williams, right at a hundred.”

“What kind of armor?

“I think they got three tanks, a couple small cannons and a helicopter. They just guard the RustyCan Highway, Grisha, and provide a place to stay for traveling Russian big shots.”

Colonel Wing Grigorievich cleared her throat and put her hand on her husband’s arm. “General Eluska, have we any information on Russian movements south of Delta?”

“All we know is what Grisha’s flight spotted on the way to Chena. The FPN Army is headed north, and there was a column of tanks and other vehicles ahead of them. I think it’s safe to say they’re Russian.”

“That was two days ago. I thought the Russians had asked for terms,” Grisha snapped, frowning at his broken leg.

“St. Petersburg did ask for terms.” Wing cleared her throat again and continued, “But their army has yet to wave any white flags or show signs of stopping. They’re probably trying to gain as much territory as they can.”

A knock sounded on the closed door.

“General Grigorievich?” Sergeant Major Nelson Tobias’ voice came through the door at a respectful level in cadence with the rap of his knuckles.

“Please come in, Sergeant Major,” Grisha said.

Tobias pushed open the hospital door and stepped inside, barely, before straightening to attention. “We have priority messages from the USA and the ROC commands.”

“What do they say?” Colonel Wing Grigorievich asked. She put her hand on her husband’s bed and the general covered it with his.

“The ROC has sent her fleet north into the Gulf of Alaska which includes air support.”

“And the USA?” Grisha asked.

“Claims one of their submarines sank a Russian destroyer in Clarence Strait, in the Russian portion of the Inside Passage.”

The fifth person in the room broke his silence, “It seems our people are going to get the aid they requested.”

Grisha smiled at his cousin, Captain Pietr Chernikoff, of the Tlingit Nation Army.

“Whatever happens, Pietr, our old world is gone forever.”

“Do you really think it can get worse than it was, Grisha?”

“I don’t know. Ask me a year from now.”

“There’s one more thing, General,” Sergeant Major Tobias said, his mouth working as if he smelled something unpleasant.

“Yes?”

“The Imperial Japanese Fleet shelled and effectively destroyed the Imperial Russian naval base at Kodiak at 0200. Imperial Russia has declared war on the Imperial Japanese Empire.”

“My God!” Grisha blurted.

“That’s insane!” Wing said.

“That was not supposed to happen!” Pietr’s tone carried anger.

“What do you mean by that?” Grisha snapped.

“We asked them to posture, nothing more.” Pietr’s face had gone as pale as possible. “They would demonstrate and then leave. We were sure we could get the Russians to back down.”

“You made a treaty with the Japanese?” Grisha felt stunned and terrified at the same time.

“At the time we felt we had no other choice…” Pietr’s voice trailed away.

“Now that’s what’s insane!” Wing said. “Did you leave any soft spots in your treaty’s perimeter? Some place they could break through with impunity if it served their purpose?”

Pietr’s face flushed and he opened his mouth to respond, eyes dark and brow constricted. But he held his tongue long enough to digest her words. His mouth snapped shut and the frown lost contour and dissipated.

“Perhaps,” he said and his face reddened further. “I would need to revisit what I urged to be signed.”

“Can you rescind the treaty?” Grisha asked.

“Unlikely, cousin.”

“So we potentially have a new war to consider.”

“Grisha!” Wing blurted. “We have no navy, we barely have an army. The Japanese have both in numbers we can’t defeat.”

“She’s got a couple of good points there, Grisha,” Paul Eluska said.

“But we have allies, no?” Grisha searched all their faces but found no answer.

“Japan has a huge navy,” Wing said in a gentle voice.

“I must get in contact with my brother Paul,” Pietr said. “As soon as possible.”

“I’ll introduce you to our communications people,” Wing said. “Follow me.”

4

40 miles northwest of Delta

Major Joe Coffey of Easy Company, 3rd Parachute Infantry Regiment, Republic of California Army, hustled through the woods and dropped next to his commanding officer. “They aren’t doing much rear guardwise, Del, uh, Colonel Buhrman.”