Wing paused in her inspection tour of the front line, puzzling over the whooshing sound.
Major Heinrich Smolst bellowed, “INCOMING!”
Everybody hit the ground as the first salvo smashed into the log fortification and the minefield.
Wing tried to run but the concussion of the exploding shells and detonating mines knocked her off her feet, pummeling her with invisible clubs. Bits of wood and rock whirred past her. She realized those splinters and stones could kill as easily as a bullet.
The six pieces of U.S. artillery fired at the same time, adding to the maelstrom of sound. One of them took a direct hit, wiping out the crew and throwing pieces of cannon into two others.
Wing hugged the ground, trying to make herself small, as the barrage continued. A peek at the rapidly disintegrating barricade over the highway told her their three weeks of hard work was for nothing. The exploding shells didn’t seem as loud and she felt thankful.
A body crashed into her and she turned to see Major Smolst. His mouth moved but she couldn’t hear his words.
“What?” she yelled.
Smolst frowned at her. “You must get out of here!” he shouted.
His words sounded distant, muffled.
Wing realized her eardrums had been damaged by the barrage. She yelled,
“I tried to run but I keep getting knocked down.”
Abruptly the Russian shelling ceased. Although the world seemed packed with cotton, her ears hurt.
Smolst pulled her to her feet. “C’mon, if I don’t get you back to safety, Grisha will have my ass.”
Wing laughed. “Why, are you responsible for me?”
Smolst looked troubled. “Of course not.”
“You really are responsible for me?” She felt dumbfounded. She had been in the Dená army for ten years. Who did Grisha think he was? She had rescued him from the Cossacks!
Smolst grabbed her arm. “Tanks. We have to fall back.”
She stared through the cordite-rich smoke. A line of Zukhov battle tanks roared toward them at speed. Wing couldn’t hear them.
“Yeah, let’s go.” They ran toward the second line of defense, a kilometer away. Many others ran with them.
A few heavily armed squads had dug in and aimed shoulder launchers and heavy machine guns toward the advancing machines. One of the launchers spat fire and Wing glanced back in time to see the lead tank explode.
Three of the U.S. field pieces opened up on the Russians. dropping shells on the road and into the APCs supporting the tanks. A Russian tank exploded from a direct hit.
A bullet hit Smolst in his upper left arm, blowing blood, meat, and cloth away in a miniature cloud. Crying out, he spun and fell. Wing stopped and reached down to help him up. Something snapped past her ear.
“Major Smolst, come on!” She tugged his good arm and he bared his teeth in pain but staggered to his feet.
She looked up and saw men in camouflage attacking from the left flank. They had her people caught in a cross fire. She jerked Smolst down into a firing pit where one of three men still moved.
“Where’d they come from?” the trooper asked. She recognized Leroy, one of Blue’s cousins from Nulato.
“Are you hit?”
“Not yet. Help me load this thing.”
Smolst tore at his bloody sleeve. “Shit, shit, shit!” He pulled a belt off one of the dead troopers and cinched it around his bicep.
Leroy and Wing struggled with the heavy ammunition belt until it clicked into the feed slot. He snapped the bolt back once, took aim at the figures advancing from the tree line, and commenced firing short bursts.
Wing saw two attackers go down. She pulled a rocket launcher from beneath one of the dead men. The tanks were now five abreast and approaching the far side of the Chena. She waited, wondering if all the mines had been detonated by the barrage.
As if in answer, the right track blew off the middle tank. The other four continued down the bank. Another artillery round exploded between the tanks, throwing mud and moss over everything.
They don’t have any idea how deep the Chena is along here, she decided. Guess they’re about to find out.
Two of the tanks stopped and the other two rumbled into the river and completely submerged. They didn’t come out. Wing took careful aim and fired the antitank rocket. One of the remaining tanks gushed fire and the crew boiled out of the turret hatch as the machine began to burn.
Something knocked the rocket launcher out of her hands and she realized the enemy flankers hadn’t gone to ground. Leroy fired again and two more men dropped.
“Are we the only people left alive out here?” she yelled. The ground heaved and pieces of tundra and permafrost rained down on them. The tanks made deadly forward fire bases despite their inability to cross the river.
The Russian ground troops enfiladed the U.S. artillery positions and killed two crews. The last 105mm swiveled and put three rounds into the woods where the Russians had taken cover. One of the remaining Russian tanks zeroed in on the cannon and hit it with its second shot.
Wing searched the firing pit and found two more rockets. She tried to load and discovered the launcher had been smashed by a bullet.
“Damn!” She grabbed one of the heavy automatic weapons, leaned it on the edge of the firing pit. Wing squeezed the trigger and the stock slammed against her shoulder like a string of hard punches. Her teeth clenched as she concentrated on putting the rounds where she wanted them.
She hit four of the camouflaged attackers and the rest took cover.
“How many are there, Leroy?” When he didn’t answer, she glanced over to find him on his back with a surprised expression across his face, eyes turned up as if trying to see the bullet hole in his forehead.
Smolst pushed himself up and pulled Leroy’s weapon from his dead hands.
“Help me get this on the edge of the hole,” he said, breathing heavily.
She grabbed the tripod and lifted it to the rim as Smolst crawled up behind the weapon. He fired a long burst.
The ground lurched again and debris bounced around the firing pit. Smolst and his weapon fell heavily on top of a dead trooper. The major lay there, panting, and Wing realized he was going into shock.
A lassitude washed over her like a warm tide as she realized they would die alone out here. Her determination to take as many as possible of the Czar’s fools with her didn’t diminish—she just stopped being careful.
Bullets spattered around their position and she knew one or more flankers were trying to pin her down while others advanced. She popped up and squeezed the trigger while moving the muzzle from side to side. Three more men went down before the others, so many others, dropped from sight.
Gunfire chattered from her right and left and she spared quick peeks to see that some of her people were still in the fight. She and Smolst wouldn’t die alone. A round whined past her head and she involuntarily ducked as others followed.
Wing slammed in a fresh banana clip and popped up again, spraying the advancing enemy while cursing them in Athabascan.