Paul Middleton: Evacuation

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.