As he lay on his cot trying to rest, Malagni heard the thunder of artillery. He was halfway out his door when Sergeant Major Tobias trotted up.
“The Russians are blowing the fortifications to pieces, Colonel. Colonel Demoski’s people will never hold them.”
“So much for Plan A!” Malagni hurried down the hall, calculating madly.
“Saddle up the reserve force. No sense in waiting for them to hit us here.”
“Very good, Colonel.” Tobias ran down the hall.
Malagni stopped in his office, grabbed a machine pistol, and put spare clips in his dungaree pockets. He looped a cord around his axe and tied it to his belt to keep it from flopping if he had to run.
Somewhere in this army his little brother, Nik, was preparing for this battle. Malagni had already lost one brother to the damned Russians and the spirits indicated the Russians would get him, too. He fervently hoped Nik would make it through.
Malagni felt the presence of Slayer-of-Men. “I’ll avenge their treachery, brother!” he said to the room. “It’s a good day to die.”
He looked at his U.S.-supplied helmet and grinned. Let the rest of the Dená Army use them, he wasn’t a soldier anyway—he was a warrior! He hurried out into the courtyard.
The artillery barrage overwhelmed all other sound. Wing must be going through hell. His reserve consisted of three tanks, five armored cars, and three hundred men.
We are outnumbered so bad I won’t even try to figure it out.
A wave of elation swept over him. “Are you ready to fight?” he screamed at them.
“Yes!” they roared back.
“Then let’s kill Russians!” Malagni jumped into the command car. Sergeant Major Tobias grinned from behind the wheel.
“I thought you were a pencil pusher, Tobias.”
“I earned my stripes in the field, Colonel. I wouldn’t miss this donnybrook for love nor money.”
Malagni gave him a wide grin. “Then carry on, Sergeant Major, carry on.” He threw back his head and screamed his war cry.
They tore through the gate with the entire garrison following.