John Schettler - Paradox Hour

The gunners shot seven dead in the first wild seconds of the duel, with three others falling from stricken horses and running for the cover of the nearby woods. The rest thought to mount a counter charge, with their leader drawing his sabre and shouting out deep throated orders. His horse reared up as he waved the flashing sabre overhead, until the DT-28 shot his mount right out from under him and he tumbled to the ground in a hard fall. This sent the remaining ten men scattering in all directions, vanishing into the treeland to either side of the road. Beckov had cleared the way and waved for the remaining bikers to surge ahead. They rode forward, SMGs still spitting out cover fire to make certain the enemy could not reorganize for an attack, and soon the squad was well away, speeding down the road.

They rounded a bend, elated, thinking the way was clear, but they were wrong. The twenty men they had surprised were just an outlying squadron of the Tartar formation. A large group of enemy cavalry was assembled up ahead, the men quickly mounting their horses when they heard the sound of the firefight to the east. Now they were shaking out in to a long line, many with bolt action rifles, and others with those cruel sabres. They saw the commotion up ahead, their leader grinning balefully when he watched the small squad of motorbikes come to a sudden halt, shrouded in their own road dust.

“What now?” Volkov shouted, but Sergeant Becker had only to point. Now they could hear the sound of rifles in the distance, and a machinegun firing.

“Damn!” said Volkov. “Is there any way around them to the south?”

The road was following the rail line here, in a wide clearing. There were heavy woodlands to their right, and a small hill that was another obstacle to any movement to the south. Volkov gritted his teeth. He had twelve men here, and there looked to be a hundred horsemen forming up ahead. He could see his men ridden down in his mind, trampled beneath the charge that was sure to come any moment now. And these barbarians would not even know who was in front of them, Ivan Volkov, a prize so great that they might all be given their weight in gold to capture him. They would roll over his little squad in a heartbeat, and leave him dead on this god forsaken road, slashed to pieces by those sabres. It was no way for the General Secretary of the Orenburg Federation to die.

He saw the horses rear up, heard the sound of more gunfire to the west, but it was not what was in front of them that concerned the Tartars now. To his astonishment, he saw the cavalry turn and charge west, away from them, leaving only a single squadron which was dismounting and taking up a blocking position on the road ahead. What was happening?

My troops, he suddenly realized! That gunfire must be the men off Pavlodar and Talgar on the road to the west. That’s why they turned. We’re a threat they have already sized up, and of no apparent concern to them now. But I have two full companies on the road up ahead, though we’re on the wrong side of the action here. He nudged his motorbike up to the MG mounted sidecar, which also had a small field radio, as this was his reconnaissance unit off the Orenburg , and well equipped for their role as fast moving scouts.

“Corporal! See if you can raise the men on the ground up there. Tell them a senior officer is here, and I need to get to them as soon as possible—but do not mention my name.”

“Yes sir!”

Now the sound of rifle fire and the throaty shouts of the Tartars was heard, and Volkov knew that the commander up ahead was going to have his hands full soon enough.

“Belay that order. Send to Pavlodar instead. Tell them to maneuver along this road and look for us here! Have them make ready to lower a cargo basket and take on ground troops. Talgar is also to stay at low elevation and provide ground support fire for those troops up ahead. Understand? They are not to climb under any circumstances until I am safely aboard Pavlodar .”

That’s my only chance now, he thought. The sight of an airship low over this road will hearten my men, and Pavlodar can give those ruffian Tartars a taste of her heavy rifles. If they stay low, then it’s likely Karpov won’t be able to spot us here. He’s off north to my diversion, and let him deal with my Admirals. If Gomel and Zorki can buy me a little time, then I can turn this situation around.

A little time…

I thought I would have eternity within my grasp by now, and look at me here, counting on a few hot minutes, and these twelve men, to save my skin. Heads will roll after this. Yes, heads will roll when I get back to Orenburg and pull together the rest of my fleet.

This is far from over.

ColonelLevkin could see that his battle for Ilanskiy was not going to end well. After three hours of hard fighting, they still had no support from the airship fleet, and the Siberians out gunned them badly, with good artillery and heavy rail guns pounding his positions outside the town. The sudden appearance of armored cars and light tanks had also been a shock, as his troops had little more than old AT rifles to try and fend them off. One section had some AP rounds for one of the recoilless rifles, which they put to good use, disabling two of the nine enemy armored cars, and forcing the rest to withdraw.

He had finally driven the stubborn defenders from the farm house, and cleared most of Sverdlova. Now his men were within sight of the rail yards, but the fighting in the town itself was fierce, and his companies had taken heavy casualties. The Siberians were dug into well prepared positions, with machine guns well sighted, mortars, and squads of tenacious infantry holding buildings from the cellar to the attic. It had taken his best unit, the guard legionnaire company, all of forty minutes to take a large brick warehouse and foundry on the southern edge of the town, and now they were clinging to the position under heavy fire.

The unexpected arrival of the General Secretary had been another surprise. That meant the tumultuous wreckage that had fallen south of the town was the fleet flagship! It was no wonder the remainder of the fleet had withdrawn to the north. Now Volkov was trying to get west on the road to Kansk and reach Pavlodar . That was going to be dangerous, and he knew that those two companies he was expecting as reinforcements might not reach him any time soon, if at all. So what to do here?

I can’t take the damn place, he thought. Even if we do push through to the rail yard, there’s that damn armored train sitting there to deal with. Taking that out will be a nightmare, but suppose I do. Then what? I’ll be sitting there trying to hold an old railway inn that is half demolished as it is. There will be no cover in a light wood building like that. They’ll be getting up reinforcements from all compass headings, and that will be that.

He looked at his map, realizing that his only real move now was to pull out and get his men into the woodland north of the town. At least there we will have room to maneuver, he thought, and a chance to link up with our airships, assuming we still have a fleet out there somewhere. This whole operation was mere vanity on Volkov’s part. We’re just sacrificial lambs to his voracious appetite for power. Why he needed this place is still beyond me. We’ve paid dearly in blood and material here, and for what, that damn farm house?

“Sergeant Major!”

“Sir!”

“The brigade will execute a phased withdrawal to the north. We will regroup in the woodland. Get on the radio and pull our men back from that hamlet south of the town. Once they are here, wheel the line back, and reinforce the hinge on that road to Kansk. This ends now.”