Alaska Republik-ARC (42 page)

The river wasn’t smooth like a frozen pond. It had ridges, bumps, hummocks, and chunks of ice that looked like boulders. And he was out of time.

“This is going to get ugly,” he muttered.

He suddenly remembered he had two wing tanks nearly full of fuel that would hit first. And explode. He hit the switch and they impacted the river within seconds.

The explosions gave the plane a few feet of lift and he saw the trail running through the smoothest portion of that part of the river. He edged toward it, not wanting the bird to catch a wing and cartwheel—he couldn’t survive that. He was moving
so
fast and there just wasn’t any more time.

The icy river reached up and grabbed the plane; the frozen propeller immediately bent back under the nose and the plane bellied in, straight down the narrow trail. For an insane moment he worried about hitting a dog sled. The trail went through a cut in what looked like a hill of ice and he knew that’s where it would all stop.

Both wings hit at the same time and ripped off the aircraft with shrieks of tearing metal. The fuselage shot through the cut, peeling aluminum off the sides of the bird and chunks of ice out of the abrupt wall on either side. The wreck slid to a stop and a gust of wind howled over it, throwing snow crystals like frozen sand.

“I’m still alive!” Jerry shouted. He keyed his radio. “Can anyone hear me? This is Yamato, can anyone hear me?”

The wind moaned again as it assaulted the plane. The radio was dead. He was the only thing out here that wasn’t.

He had to figure out if staying inside the aluminum fuselage would be suicide. The aircraft had no insulation worthy of the conditions Jerry now faced and the inside would actually become colder than the outside. In a matter of hours the shredded fuselage would become an icy tomb, but it might offer protection from the incessant arctic wind.

“Sure glad I brought my cold weather gear!” he said loudly. He realized that he was afraid and needed to get himself steadied before doing anything at all.

“I wasn’t afraid the last time,” he said to the wind buffeting the wreck. “Why am I this time?”

Because last time you didn’t have anything other than your life to lose—now you’ve got Magda, maybe
.

He nodded. That was it. Now he really had the promise of a life, and he wanted to enjoy a lot more of it. He unfastened the parachute harness, reflecting that he was glad he hadn’t had enough time to use it—God knows where he would be by now.

What to do? Every survival manual he had ever read said to stay with the aircraft if possible. But would that be wise here?

He pulled on his parka over his flight jacket and the mukluks on over his flying boots. He felt warm. Would his body heat keep the cockpit warm enough to live through the night? He decided his chances were as good here as out on the frozen surface of the wide Yukon River.

He wished he had a candle. The heat from a single candle could keep an enclosed space such as an ice cave, or a sealed cockpit, warm enough to survive extreme temperatures. He made a vow he would never venture into a subarctic mission without one ever again.

Pulling the wolf pelt parka tight, Jerry relaxed and tried to sleep despite the howling icy wind and his fear of freezing to death.

119

Nowitna, Provisional State of Doyon, Alaska Republik

“What the hell hit him?” Colonel Buhrman bellowed. “He was knocking the shit out of them and suddenly he goes down.”

“Could they have shot him down with one of those mercury bullets?” Lieutenant Colonel Smolst asked.

“I keep forgetting how good those people are with a rifle. That has to be it.”

“Which means there is still at least one man out there.”

“He’s probably headed for Klahotsa as fast as he can safely go. We have to go get Yamato’s body, or what we can find of it.”

Both men had seen the explosion far upriver and out in the middle of the frozen expanse between two of the icy islands. Nobody could have lived through that.

“I hope he didn’t blow a hole in the ice and the wreck sinks,” Buhrman said.

Smolst grunted. “No chance of that, Del. The Yukon ice is about twenty-five feet thick right now, and hard as concrete.”

Buhrman turned to Corporal Easthouse. “Get me General Grigorievich. I want to tell him myself.”

120

Delta, Provisional State of Doyon, Alaska Republik

Magda answered the knock on the door with a wide smile, expecting Jerry. Colonel Romanov stood there, blinking in the sudden light, looking grave.

“May I come in?”

“Oh,” Magda said releasing a breath, unaware she had been holding it. “Of course, Colonel.” She shut the door behind him.

As soon as she had seen him, a dread descended upon her like a shroud of hooks. She didn’t want to know why he was here and not Jerry, yet she had to know instantly or go mad.

“What happened?” she asked.

Pelagian and Bodecia stood silently on the far side of the room.

“There was a band of killers attacking Nowitna. Colonel Buhrman called for air support. Jerry is the only pilot we have, so he went.”

“I thought I heard a plane,” Pelagian said, “but decided I was wrong.”

“Let the colonel finish, Father,” Magda said in a brittle tone.

“Yes, well, he was making his third strafing run over the outlaws and suddenly radioed that he was hit and going down. His engine ceased operating and he glided out over the Yukon.”

“Which is frozen solid this time of year,” Pelagian interjected.

“True,” Colonel Romanov said. “But Colonels Buhrman and Smolst both reported an explosion when the plane hit the ice.”

“D-did he have a parachute?” Magda asked, trying not to cry, seeking possibilities.

“Yes, but he wasn’t high enough to bail out, it wouldn’t have had time to open before…”

“He’s not dead. I would know if he was dead. And he’s not!”

Her mother came up behind her and put her arms around her, holding her tight. “Magda—”

She broke out of the embrace. “He’s
not dead
, dammit! I won’t believe he is until I see his body!”

Colonel Romanov threw out his hands. “We have no way of finding out, Magda. It’s hundreds of miles to Nowitna. It would take days to drive it in this weather.”

“Don’t you have a helicopter?” she demanded.

He blinked. “Yes, yes we do. I have dismissed it so often in the past—I will dispatch it at first light and we will investigate for ourselves.”

“I’m going with you, Colonel. Don’t you dare try to leave without me.”

Colonel Romanov looked at her parents.

“If it were Pelagian out there, I’d say the same thing,” Bodecia said. “Come on, Magda, let’s get you outfitted. It’s not only cold up there, the wind also blows like a banshee’s scream.”

121

On the Yukon River

Jerry roused from a light doze and looked around the cockpit. Frost covered everything and he wondered at his ability to see anything in the middle of the night. He looked straight up through the amazingly undamaged canopy and saw the full moon between gusting clouds of blowing snow.

Despite the circumstances, he felt warm and toasty. The thought of trudging across the lumpy, uneven surface of the Yukon held no appeal and he was happy he made the choice to stay with the plane. But how long could he stay here with no food and no water other than the canteen he always carried?

There were other natural processes to consider also. When his bladder signaled need of release, what would he do?

Cross that bridge when I come to it.

He closed his eyes and retreated into sleep.

The wind shrilled over the fuselage.

122

Klahotsa

The door of the general store crashed open and Bachmann started in alarm. Two snow-covered figures staggered in and kicked the door shut behind them.

“What’s going on?” Bachmann tried to make his voice hard with authority, but the words came out in a squeak.

“Don’t crap yourself, Bachmann,” Riordan growled. “It’s just me and N’go.” Both men went to the large pot-bellied stove in the middle of the room and all but embraced it.

“Where are the others? Why are you here? Did you find the people who attacked us?” He wanted to stop and make each question deliberate, something that must be answered immediately. But their arrival had brought fear into his soul and he wanted it evicted as soon as possible.

“Shut up,” Riordan said. “I’ll tell you everything, but just shut up.”

“We surprised them with our tactic of shadowing our own scouts. Got two of the bastards, but they got our first man. They didn’t shoot him; they captured him.

“So we moved in to pick them off but nobody showed themselves. Not even a kid went outdoors. They were buttoned up tighter than a virgin’s blouse.

“It was close to dark so I decided to wait and we’d move in and take them all out, cabin by cabin. Somebody in there was smart enough to call in a fighter plane. It blew the hell out of us.

“When our men tried to run into the tree line, the people in the cabins picked them off. I put one of the mercury tips in my rifle and when the plane came at us again, I shot the pilot. The plane crashed and burned out on the Yukon.

“Never shot down a plane before…”

Bachmann realized that both men were exhausted. “All the others are dead?”

“Far as I know. Didn’t see anyone following us when we retreated.”

“Then these hunters at Nowitna know you all came from here.” Bachmann immediately wished he hadn’t said that out loud.

Riordan gave him a look of pure hatred. “You’re such a chickenshit. You worried that all your little schemes are going to come back to bite you in the ass? Afraid that you’re going to have to take responsibility for your own actions?”

“Riordan, you’re forgetting who’s in charge here!”

“Then act like it! We can still pull this thing off if you’ll stop pissing yourself.”

“How do you see it working now?” Hope hammered in Bachmann’s chest.

“Well, first we lay low for a while…”

123

Over the Alaska Republik

Magda tapped her foot on the aluminum deck as the helicopter racketed along below the clouds. Straps over her chest and lap kept her pinned firmly in the observer’s seat. At least she could watch the land beneath them.

The Captains Fedorov, as she called them in her mind, had maintained a running argument from the moment they took off over an hour ago.

“Georgi, we have ample fuel to reach Nowitna!”

“And if we spend too much time over target and run out of fuel, Ivan, who comes to search for
us
? Are we not in the only helicopter in this country?”

“Where is the wild beast brother I once had? The one who loved to tweak the nose of chance?”

“He nearly bled to death last year. Don’t you remember? You were there, right where you’re sitting.”

“Give me heading for Tanana Aerodrome; we will refuel there.”

Magda smiled grimly. Colonel Romanov had told her these men were the best helicopter pilots in the Alaska Republik. However he had neglected to mention they were the
only
helicopter pilots in the Republic.

“There, Georgi, must be Tanana; aerodrome is immediately behind village according to map.”

“
Da,
I see beacon. Oh look, they light up runway lights for us!”

“They have runway lights,” Ivan said in an awed whisper.

The radio crackled. “Delta helicopter, this is Tanana control. Follow the instructions of the landing officer with the wands.”

“Acknowledge, Tanana control. We see him.”

“Can you hear me, too?” a different voice said.

“
Da,
loud and clearly.”

“Set down between me and the hangar, there.”

Through the blowing snow Magda could see the man with glowing orange wands in each hand. The wands went from far apart to close together and pointed toward a series of buildings with snow-packed roofs.

“Affirmative!” Georgi said and landed the machine without a bump.

Magda considered that they just might be good pilots after all, as long as they weren’t talking to each other. The rotors swooshed to a stop. The door next to Magda suddenly opened and a cold blast of air sent snow through the aircraft. Colonel Wing Grigorievich looked up at her.

“How about some tea and a sandwich?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Magda said, looking down at the harness and belt assembly. She picked at it with gloved hands. “If I can just get this damn thing off!”

“Allow me.” Wing reached in and snapped a catch and the whole thing came apart in the front.

“Oh, I guess I should have paid more attention when they strapped me in.”

Wing offered a hand as Magda exited. “You were probably thinking about other things. This way, please.”

Magda followed her through the numbing wind into one of the buildings. The room temperature radiated about 75 degrees Fahrenheit. The walls boasted dark, polished wainscoting and photos of men and aircraft from the beginning of aviation history.

In the center of the room sat a large table with a steaming samovar and a tray holding a dozen or more sandwiches. General Grigorievich stood next to it. He stepped toward her, holding out his hand.

“Magda,” he took her hand in both of his, “I wish I could say I was happy to see you. I just wanted to tell you that if anyone can come through this, it is Jerry.”

She tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. “Yeah, but I’m not out there to help him this time.”

“He saved a lot of lives yesterday. And, as always, he didn’t hesitate to take the mission.”

“Jerry and I are going to talk about that quirk of his,” Magda said. “I want a husband, not a memory of a hero.”

“Grisha,” Wing said in a gentle voice. “Let her eat, she has a long day ahead of her.”

“Of course. May I get you some tea, ladies?”

“Thank you, yes,” Magda said. “With a bit of milk if you have it?”

“Black for me,” Wing said. “But you knew that.”

When they smiled at each other, Magda nearly burst into tears. Instead she looked down at the sandwiches.

“Is that real ham?”

“Yes,” Wing said. “One of the California pilots brought us two cases. Please help yourself. Take some for later; we have a lot.”