“Ambassador Adams, Colonel Grigorievich, gentlemen, please be seated,” Republic of California Secretary of State Frank Barnes swept his arm out toward chairs in front of his desk. The secretary sank into his own leather upholstery.
“Please accept the president’s apologies for not keeping you in the picture over the past few days. The situation in Alaska has polarized our congress and nation. After forty hours of debate the Senate and House both gave President Reagan authorization to declare war on Imperial Russia.”
“So we are now allies?” Claude asked.
“Very much so,” Secretary Barnes said. He grinned. “I think the president gave the people one of his best speeches ever. ‘There’s an eagle in the woods, it has two heads and both wear a crown. It likes to eat baby republics.’ He received a standing ovation on that one.”
Grisha laughed. “Good imagery. Does this mean I can get back to my command soon?”
Secretary Barnes glanced at his watch. “Your flight leaves in a little over an hour. You’ll be flying with a squadron of troop transports carrying the Third Parachute Infantry Regiment and a Special Forces contingent to Fort Yukon. Ambassador Adams and you other gentlemen will be flown out tomorrow, assuming we all agree on our current treaty.”
“We certainly want to finish our mission before going home,” Claude said.
Grisha stood up. “Where do I go to catch this flight, sir?”
Secretary Barnes pushed a button on his desk then rose to his feet and shook Grisha’s hand. “Lieutenant Anderlik will take to your transport. I wish you Godspeed and victory, Colonel.”
“Thank you, Mr. Secretary.” He nodded to the Dená delegation and followed the lieutenant out of the room.
“Right this way, sir,” the lieutenant said. They entered an elevator and dropped farther than Grisha remembered ascending. The door opened into a large bay filled with ranked equipment and military personnel moving in all directions.
“Please follow me, sir.” Lieutenant Anderlik moved briskly through the confusion and Grisha had to pay attention to his guide rather than gawk at the activity around him. After traversing a second bay they emerged into the hot California afternoon.
A topless military vehicle with an enlisted driver sat idling while two officers leaned against it, smoking and chatting. When Grisha appeared both men stiffened to attention and saluted. The major remained silent while the colonel spoke.
“Good afternoon, Colonel Grigorievich. I’m Colonel Buhrman, commander of the Third PIR. You’ll be riding with us. This is my exec, Major Coffey.”
“I’m pleased to meet both of you, and grateful for the ride, not to mention deeply appreciative of your aid.”
“Aw hell, we’ve always wanted to see Alaska,” Colonel Buhrman said.
“We hear the fishing is fantastic,” Major Coffey added.
“Once we kick the Czar out, I’ll be happy to take you fishing,” Grisha said. “I know a lot of good spots.”
They rode three blocks to an airfield where a row of transports were filling up with men. Grisha noticed that every trooper carried far more than did his soldiers back home. To a man they looked formidable and menacing.
“How many are going north?” he asked.
“Nine hundred and sixty on this flight and we have the Fourth PIR in ready reserve if we need them.”
“The last I heard there were over twenty-four hundred Russians heading toward our lines from two different directions.”
“They aren’t there yet, Colonel,” Major Coffey said. “We also have—”
Three waves of five fighters buzzed over the field in tight formation. The paratroopers lined up outside their transports cheered and waved.
“—them,” Coffey finished. “Those are P-61 Eureka long range fighters of the 117th Attack Squadron who will provide cover for us and then seek out targets of opportunity once in the combat zone.”
Grisha couldn’t stop grinning. “This is great!”
They pulled to up the lead transport.
Colonel Buhrman looked over at Grisha. “Going—”
A scout car roared up and screeched to a stop. Colonel Benny Jackson stepped to the tarmac. He nodded at the other two R.O.C. officers. “Del, Joe, glad to see good people are going north with me.”
“You’re going north?” Grisha said.
“Yeah, they’re letting me take a Special Forces strike force to get your ass out of the jam we helped put you in.”
“Benny,” Colonel Buhrman said with a grin, “you’re going with us, not the other way around.”
“Sure, Del, whatever you say.”
Colonel Buhrman looked at Grisha and motioned to the transports. “Going my way, Colonel?”