Evacuation

CHAPTER FIVE

Militia Base, Outskirts of Romonavka, Siberia, Russia

Boris looked over the camp. The soldiers were comfortable, perhaps too comfortable. They had sentries but seemed to have forgone roving patrols. The assumption must have been the twenty-five executions and martial law declaration had cowed the population.

In their arrogance, they had forgotten the power of rage.

This area of Russia was different, and the commanders of these troops did not understand the differences. Apparently, they didn’t understand his group nor that those in this area of Siberia felt no loyalty to the government. Boris’ people had been raised to revere the Czars, even if there were none now.

They had also been raised in the discipline of the Cossack. On Cossack legends, traditions and pride.

Boris nodded and sent his best force of woodsmen and hunters around to the other side of the base under Paul and divided into three troops. The rest of his force was split into four companies, further divided into several platoons each. No soldier was going to be allowed to flee the base. Platoons in each company were tasked with covering their area to prevent any escape from the vengeance that was demanded, required and would be his peoples.

Boris had a demolition pack for the communications building. One of the reinforcing family members had brought a homebrew signal jammer with him. Destroying the soldiers’ communications capability could only help their rescue attempt. At worst, the destruction would at least improve the morale of Boris’ force.

The jammer was to be turned on when the first of the two ‘tanks’ (really APCs) went up in flames. Boris had three packets of explosives set for remote detonation, two with thermite packs attached to their bases. The tanks would be at least crippled, and the communications building would go as well.

The mortar operators with his group were setting up to target the APCs and communications building. The mortar men on the other side were targeting the barracks. Each of the mortar teams had one of Boris’s ex-mercenaries in the group manning the weapons. All companies had four or more ex-mercs for a small command group.

Two of the groups went to either side of the base to envelop it. The third company, composed solely of Weres, including one other Werebear whose sister had been shot, moved forward quickly and silently at the point of the frontal assault. Most of them paused briefly as soon as they were out of the sight of the human militia following them, dumping their clothes and changing to a deadlier form than their human one, before resuming their advance.

The power of the changelings would be released, the animal cravings let loose.

The last company acted as a rearguard, following closely behind the Weres. Acting as both protection against any flanking attacks and insurance that no one escaped the deadly movement of rapid attackers, this force was the final barrier, the closing trap.

Boris crept forward looking for a gap or opening where he could get past the sentries. Neither of the APCs was manned, and a group of sentries on the west side had closed up, leaving a gap in surveillance. He carefully moved through that opening as the guard meant to be watching this sector turned nervously to assure himself that the others were there. Boris almost snorted. These were either green troops or something else masquerading as soldiers.

He carefully placed the thermite and demolition block combos under the turrets of the unmanned APCs. It seemed a waste, but if they managed to man them the attacking force would be in trouble. He looked at the communications building and decided to place the demolitions block on the side with the satellite dish and antenna farm. With luck, that would take out or restrict their communications without the need to trust a home-made jammer that may or may not do anything.

Quickly moving to the prison block on the southern edge of camp, Boris kept to the shadows and avoided the single internal patrol. By the gods, these were more like the SS guards he had fought in the Second World War than real soldiers. They had a veneer of training but were more like thugs in uniform. He approached the prison block from the front and cursed. It was well lit on all sides, and there was a full squad guarding the door. It was possible that they were some kind of political fanatics, and if so, he had to get into the building and protect the prisoners.

He weighed his choices. Option one was to detonate the demolitions charges and go Pricolici. But then he’d have to worry about the prisoners seeing him. The pack would have to deal with that later if they survived. Not a good choice. He quickly went through the other options but was stymied by the fact that these guards were reasonably alert. Weighing all the options, it seemed clear that a couple of bursts from his weapon followed by a bayonet charge after he detonated the demolition combo was the best strategy.

Boris quietly connected the bayonet to his rifle. He lifted his head silently watching for any alert and then nodded as much to himself as to any of his group who might be watching him.

It was time.

He pressed the button and detonated the charges. His face displayed a grim smile as he immediately fired three quick bursts into the shocked and confused squad. Most of them went down. He shook his head at their obvious lack of training.

He charged as he heard the whistle of incoming mortars. The shock on the faces of the two soldiers still standing was evident. He fired a burst into one of them as the man raised his rifle. The other’s surprise lasted long enough for Boris’s bayonet to slice into his throat and through his spine. The blood cascading into the dirt.

Pulling the bayonet out Boris moved to the door and kicked it hard. The door slammed open. Boris found bedlam inside when he heard one of the men in the block shouting. “Get to the prisoners. We will use them as hostages. They will have to let us go or sacrifice those they came to save!”

These beschestiye wouldn’t get the chance.

Boris ran forward, remembering the layout of the base prison from a long-ago exploration after it was decommissioned. The five men in the rear were overtaken in the next instant, as he noticed in passing that one of them had epaulets on the shoulders.

Boris fired a quick burst into the group, hoping he had missed the officer since they needed him for information. Now within fist range, his rifle was dropped unheedingly onto the floor. In a flurry of kicks, blocks and punches the last two were down and unconscious.

Untouched except a nasty knife gash from the officer before the man went down, Boris drew a deep breath. The man showed the skill of serious training and was probably former military of some kind. The other was about as skilled as your average street thug.

He looked at the shoulder patch on the uniform of the closest body. A red field with a white tri-bar cross on it. The initials N.V.G. under the cross. Definitely not regular army.

Boris almost felt sorry for the men about to be swarmed by his people. Street thugs against people trained over many years as a competent militia. His people would take casualties, but if they didn’t surrender VERY quickly, the NVG would be obliterated.

He quickly found the keys to the prisoner section in the officer’s pockets and went to the section. Fifty people were crowded into a space that was meant to hold twenty. Many of them had been beaten. Alecta recognized him and weakly shouted, “Boris.” He nodded his head in recognition and acknowledgment and started giving out orders to those inside as he yanked open the doors.

Within five minutes, those ablest had taken up weapons, looted from the five guards inside the building and supplemented with those of the dead squad members that Boris had mowed down in his assault.

As the former prisoners organized their defenses and armed twenty-five men, Boris kept a wary eye on the perimeter. He threw a grenade into a small group of attackers as they charged the containment area door, timing the throw to the momentary check that happened as they came upon the slaughtered guards and newly-freed prisoners.

With that effort, he was confident the twenty-five defenders could hold without him.

He ran fast and low out to the base. It was mayhem. More than half the NVG were down. There were the obvious signs that the pack had taken out more ‘strategic’ targets. Anyone with the rank of corporal or higher seemed to have had his throat ripped out. Groups of the thugs were either throwing down their arms or throwing away their lives.

Twice as he cleared a path to Paul’s group, he encountered an NVG group showing suicidal defiance. Twice he attacked them from behind, speeding them on their journey to hell. Suddenly he felt a sharp burn across his back and collapsed. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he cursed his own stupidity. He’d gotten into the middle of everything with no-one to cover his back. His last thought before the darkness took him was that at least his people had won.

He awoke to hear a male voice tinged with irony saying, “Boss, we had it handled. You should have stayed with the prisoners, protecting them. We might have taken a few more casualties, but between you and the pack they were broken. All we had left was cleanup. No need for you to take four in the back. If you’d at least worn your body armor, I wouldn’t be saying this. When we finally broke through, the others saw about twenty wolves guarding your body. I think the fact that you are different is not hidden anymore.” Paul looked down at his friend, “You’re gonna have an interesting meeting with the people. I doubt any one of them will stay away now. Gonna have to explain something boss. Well, two somethings. The wolves and how the hell you are up and about again.”

Boris shrugged, “Most of the families already know Paul. The elders and those who have served with me at least.” He felt a twinge in his back as he tried moving his shoulders around.

Paul glared at him “Oh, now you tell me. You made me feel like what I knew was so secret I could be shot if I told anyone. Makes me seem like a bit of a fool.”

Boris eyed him, “With your mouth and how you run it. If I hadn’t told you that you would have mouthed off on a mission. Mouthing off would have gotten you killed.”

Paul shrugged, neither admitting nor denying the accusation. He did have a tendency to be a smart ass, so denying that it might have slipped out was stupid.

“Who’s in charge Paul? You should go and be with your wife. It’s not likely I’ll be lynched. I’ll talk to them and get everything organized.”

“That hunter, Danislav. He is tough enough and rowdy enough that no one will challenge him right now. A couple of the veterans are helping to organize and control. We have the injured heading to town in some of the trucks with the mercs who had medic training. We have thirty-one militia dead, and two wolves down.”

“Go. Be with your wife. I’ll sort out what needs sorting and trust the family elders to keep a lid on things for the time being in town.”

Paul left, concern still clouding his face. His desire to be with his wife and assure himself of her safety was apparent, though.

Boris stretched and looked around the room. The bullet that had hit him had missed everything vital. It also seemed to him that the treatments from Bethany Anne’s machine had accelerated his healing capabilities. He got up and rummaged around the room they had put him in. He found a shirt that would fit him, it was a bit light for the weather or would have been if he was an ordinary human.

When he headed outside, he found it was early afternoon. Boris could see from the flow of people where those who were giving orders were gathered, outside the wrecked communications building. That made sense. It was fairly central to the camp. He sighed. He needed to find out how many were critically injured and should probably call Bethany Anne to see if there was anything she could offer in help.

First things first. Find out the numbers.

He approached Danislav, who grinned and said, “Ahh, our glorious leader graces us with his presence. Only you could lead such a successful action and get shot by the last enemy with any fight left.”

Boris shrugged. “What is the situation on casualties, Danislav? Number of dead, critically injured and severely injured, please.”

“Thirty-three dead. Twelve critical, en route to the hospital in town. We may well lose four of them yet. But the last I heard they were stable. Over fifty with serious, but not life-threatening injuries. Of the assault force, we have three hundred and fifty capable of fighting, although many of them need rest. Over one hundred and twenty dead on the other side. Twenty captured, including a ‘Major’, a commissar and two other officers.”

“Be careful of the one I knocked out in the prison. He has serious military training.” Boris rubbed his side remembering the cut he’d taken. Not that there was a mark of it now, but the memory carried an ache with it.

“Already noticed blood on his knife. He’s got a rotation of two pack members watching him at all times.”

“Have you got all this in hand? I need to go talk to someone who might be able to send aid.”

Danislav smiled and nodded. “No worries. When do you want to schedule the town meeting you called?”

“I don’t know yet. Part of that will be related to the call I make. Which way do you think people are leaning?”

“I think you have a split. Probably two-thirds will go if you have somewhere safe for them to head. At least a quarter, more likely a third, want to take the fight to the bastards. In the pack, it’s probably the reverse, and we have more packmates on their way here. If you can hold off until tomorrow, you’ll have most of the Weres in Siberia in attendance. Joshua is bringing the tundra pack down by buses to the border of the province, then traveling the rest of the way in as wolves. With the stashes you made us maintain, we have enough to clothe everyone coming in that way. We have people arriving by plane and vehicle as well. Vassily is also on his way from Western Russia, by himself.”

Boris spat on the ground at Vassily’s name. “Put him in a room with some vegetables and water. He’s the only person I can think of who might have revealed to the government I might be dead. I don’t need a Were with links to the politicians spying on us.” Danislav only nodded. Personally, he didn’t believe Vassily was stupid enough to talk to his contacts about Boris unless he’d personally seen his body and checked that there was no pulse.

“While you were out, I took the liberty of talking to the Major and his commissar, separately. They are both convinced the army will drop in on us like a ton of bricks when they find out. Their formation is called the Nashi vooruzhennye gruppy. Basically an armed wing of fanatics from the President’s Nashi political movement. Both his captains are ex-military. One of them didn’t need any threats to start talking, though. The one who was outside with the men trying to organize the defense.”

“And what did he have to say? Stop playing games, I obviously need to know this.” Boris said impatiently.

“He said that he thinks, especially if they find out about the shootings in town, that the military is more likely to move in to defend the town or stay in their barracks. Even if the President gave a direct order, no sane officer would follow it. It is too close to the genocide provisions in the Laws of War. He also explicitly states that he protested the Major and Commissar’s order. He asked that if we had a way to get him out of Russia, so he could tell the other powers the truth of the incident. He did, however, state that he would refuse to be quoted for the news. He seems to be genuinely ashamed of what has happened.”

Boris nodded, storing that information in his mind clearly. Bethany Anne may well want to know about this. The entire incident and the captured officers could well give her leverage over the Russian government. Or she might just kill them. Either way, he was happy to hand that decision off to her.

Boris pulled out the device he’d been given by Frank. He stepped away from the command group and walked towards the burned out carcasses of the two APCs. The area was fairly clear with no real traffic, so he turned on the mobile-like device and punched in the number Frank had provided. He’d been assured it would work nearly anywhere and would be secure.

“Carol speaking. How may I help you?” asked a female voice over the line.

“This is Boris. I was wondering if I could speak to either Frank or Nathan.”

There was a pause. “If you can wait for a couple of moments, Bethany Anne wants a conversation with you.” There was almost a slightly malicious smile in the voice that came across the phone.

Boris sighed. It seemed that even her assistant knew something he didn’t. Surely he hadn’t pissed her off that much. Thinking about what Michael had said about her tendency to violence, he sure as hell hoped that she was not that pissed off.

He waited, sweating at the thought of how angry Bethany Anne might be. Boris hadn’t thought about that aspect before, even though Stephen had said that she knew what her oath committed her. He was too used to being the sole person that his people had for protection to have even momentarily considered anyone else and their thoughts or sense of obligation.

An icy cold voice came across the line. “Boris. I saw much of your assault. Why are you calling? Do you have more information? Or have you decided you need assistance after all, now that you have your fucking macho bullshit out of the way?”

“Czarina. I apologize for any accidental insult I may have given. I am simply used to being the senior protector of my people. I only realized as I was waiting now that there may have been aid you could have offered without compromising your relationship with Russia. However…“ He went on to brief her on what was happening. A suggestion that she come to the town meeting so that he could pronounce her a fitting Czarina to receive the oaths of allegiance from his people carried with it a reminder that their oaths effectively were life-long.

“But I’m not a queen or Czarina or whatever you are talking about,” She replied, her voice not nearly as ice-cold as it had been when she first answered.

“You were the woman who Michael chose to love. That makes you as close to a Queen that the UnknownWorld has ever known. You have power and such a title generally comes with power. Finally, my people have spent almost a century in the wilderness waiting for their prophesied Czar or Czarina. Would you deny them someone to take their oaths and loyalty?”

“What about the fact that I’m a Vampire? Will that cause any serious problems?”

There was silence for a time, then Boris sighed. “No, Czarina. Many of them already know some of the UnknownWorld. I was… inventive in my interpretation of the Strictures, though word never reached Michael or Peter. I think David may have known. He once tried to dump a plane full of Nosferatu on the town, but I foiled the operation. He definitely knew that my human support had such knowledge after that. Peter already had that knowledge, so it wasn’t a real problem. It really was a mistake for them to have joint responsibility for Russia, but political and geographical boundaries were such that it was considered the best solution.”

“At least two-thirds of the town and surrounding population knows about Weres. I doubt that finding out vampires are real will be a problem unless you make a frightening appearance. Besides, if you can send something to help heal the critically and seriously injured they won’t care. At all. They will owe you.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and finally, Bethany Anne sighed, “So I suppose this makes you the prophet whose predictions become real. Get back to me with a time. For the doses I’m giving you, I want you to personally take them to a site.”

Boris interrupted, “Here in town. As soon as possible. I assume the vehicle you send with them will be similar to those you will arrive in. It will create a stronger sense that you were responsible. If you can go into orbit, you can drop from the sky also.”

There was a tapping on the other end. “I suppose I should listen to the advice of the man on the ground. Anything else I should know?” Boris gave her a summation of the information Danislav had given him. She finished the call with “I have to go. People to kill, politicians to terrify. You know how it is.”

Boris waved down a vehicle heading to town as it was leaving the base. He’d left Danislav and the group assisting with the organization while his injuries had required healing. They seemed to have everything under control so he left them to finish after telling them to organize the meeting for the next afternoon.

By then all Weres who were in transit would have arrived. It amounted to less than a fifth of the Weres in Siberia, but if that many came from as far as the Tundra Pack, he’d have a good feel for the overall opinions of the majority. Besides, he was going to give either Peter or Nathan permission to travel through the entire area and supply them with the locations of most of the packs and lone wolves. Not that he really knew all of the lone wolves. Siberia was just too large to keep under a heavy thumb. His style was more relaxed, requiring rare intervention unless someone fucked up.

It took Boris about a half an hour to get into town. When the vehicle stopped near the town square, he got out and headed straight to the center. Just as he approached the area, a black shape plummeted from the sky. As it visually resolved into one of the Pods, he moved back a little from where it was to land. Once it came to a halt, Boris stepped quickly to the vehicle.

The door slid open on his approach. With the doors open, he could see the seat inside had a white case with a red cross emblazed across the front. Boris grabbed it, turned around and ran straight to the hospital, hoping the use and dosage of any medications would be obvious to those inside.

He burst through the doors and went straight to the nurse’s station. He placed the case on the counter and opened it to discover the aid had come in the form of one hundred and fifty syringes with what looked to be blood or some other red viscous liquid in them.

He grinned widely but turned in alarm when he heard a patient monitor start to shrill. Reaching into the case, he quickly grabbed one of the syringes. Running to the room with the loud noise resounded out into the hall, he stripped the cover off the needle. Without hesitation, he stabbed the needle into the dying militia man’s chest.

Following him into the room was the doctor who glared as he pushed him aside, the needle Boris used still in the chest of the patient. Before the doctor could even start resuscitation, the alarms suddenly stilled.

The doctor turned frustration and stress evident on his face, “What did you give him, Boris? Adrenaline? We need to know! You may have saved him only to have him die of complications you fool!”

Boris shook his head, “Nyet, Andre. I was sent some experimental medications that stabilize and heal. My contact and friend sent enough for our people. She will be at the meeting if you really want to ask her about its contents. I was assured it will not complicate other medications, beyond reducing the time they are present in the bloodstream,” Boris responded, extrapolating from his own condition.

Unfortunately, the doctor wasn’t satisfied, “And do you have numbers on that? This is an immense complication, you idiot!”

“Doctor, pretend that you are treating Danislav or me, and that is your answer. They have found a way to replicate the healing of people like us without the other effects.”

The doctor stared at him, then back to the obviously improved patient and then shook his head. “But it is still experimental?”

Boris stood there, thinking of a response. “Neyt. It has been tested, but not registered. The group that makes it does not want to be swamped beyond their production capabilities at this point. Though they were happy to give me some in this time of need. This information, and how effective the treatment is, will need to stay here.”

The doctor continued grumping as the two of them walked to the nurses’ station. When they reached it, the doctor started organizing the distribution to critical cases. After the triage had been finished, he began organizing the schedule for the most severe cases. He chewed on a pen thinking about next steps. Well, next steps provided that there were no adverse reactions with the unknown medicine.

After all, Boris would never deliberately harm the people he protected.