28
38 miles south of Delta
Rudi peered through the mosquito-net-covered slats of the hospital wall. The Freekorps numbered about two hundred effectives. It reminded him of the Russian Troika Guard: multiple shades of skin, a variety of languages, and they all spoke English when on duty. Except in the Troika Guard, the language had been Russian.
But what are they doing here? Had the Czar hired mercenaries to bolster his odds against the Dená and their allies?
Somehow Rudi didn’t believe that. This outfit reminded him of the vultures in Afghanistan, except the Freekorps smelled both death and profit.
As near as he could tell, all of the effectives were cross-trained. He wouldn’t wager against any of them in a target-shooting contest. They would not be an easy foe to conquer.
His cot jiggled which meant someone had just walked up the steps of the hospital. Rudi sank back on his pillow and closed his eyes. He hoped they would not change the huge bandage they had wrapped around his torso; he had almost worked the stiffness out.
“Your hands and arms are torn and bruised, your whole body has been battered, and you have internal injuries which should have killed you,” the doctor had told him after a thorough examination. “Yet you seem to be healing at a much faster pace than if you were in a modern, well-equipped hospital. How do you account for that?”
Rudi had grinned at him. “Perhaps because I lead an exemplary life?”
The doctor laughed all the way to the door, where he called a nurse in to help him bandage Rudi. The nurse was a hulking man with surprisingly gentle hands. It still hurt when they tightened the bandage around him.
The floorboards creaked as someone approached. Rudi wondered if they were visiting him or Pelagian, or just checking on both.
“Sergeant, are you awake?” Bodecia asked.
“Awake.” His eyes flew open and surprise filled him to see her alone. “Have you evaded the guards?” he whispered.
She nodded. “It’s easy if you know how. Has Pelagian wakened yet?”
“No. They gave him an injection and he went into a deep sleep.”
“Good, he’ll heal quicker that way. How much have you observed?”
“I would put their number near two hundred, give or take twenty. They have six tanks and four armored personnel carriers, some with Russian Army markings, and a fleet of trucks.” He stopped, thinking hard. “Oh yes, and one motorcycle.”
“Very good, Rudi. Our numbers match. Now I am worried that since they have allowed us to see so much, what do they plan to do with us?”
“Ransom is the only thing I have heard. I do not believe they have a political stake in this war, only an interest in money.”
“But surely they realize our side has no money. We are all at the end of our possibilities. That’s one of the things that has precipitated this war.”
“My armored company was ordered here. If the Czar tells me to fight, I obey. If he tells me to stand down and relax, I obey. This”—he gestured at the hospital walls—“is all new to me.”
“Yes,” she said. “As Pelagian says, ‘I am orating to the ordained.’ I am worried about what they will do to you and Pelagian.”
“If you can escape,” Rudi whispered in an urgent tone, “you must do so!”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, I am too much bound up in that man’s life to leave. I would rather die with him than live without him.”
Rudi looked at the sleeping Pelagian, then back to her.
“You have no idea how much I envy him at this moment.”