Dead Zone Read Online Free Page A

wasn’t the Fyodor she’d grown up with. “Don’t you feel the energy of today?”
    “I feel tired,” he said. “And nauseated.”
    “You should see what I see,” she said, gazing out at the forested shores. There were towns there—American towns.
    “You should see what I see,” Fyodor replied, and then chuckled.
    Zasha blushed, though she knew it didn’t mean anything. Fyodor was always making comments like that. Even if he did have a crush on her, it would never go anywhere. Not with what faced them. Not with the drugs that ravaged him.
    “There are American homes,” she said, changing his subject. “They will soon be Russian homes.”
    “We’re not going to settle here,” he said.
    “We will eventually.”
    “They won’t leave peacefully,” he said. “Americans love their guns.”
    “That’s why we won’t let them stay. We’re not going to be an occupying force. We’ve learned from our occupation of Afghanistan—and their occupation of Afghanistan. They will all have to leave and eventually our people will claim these cities.”
    He nodded tiredly. He knew the plan. Right now, Russian diplomats were delivering simple ultimatums: We are taking these territories and your people must leave. Do that or face annihilation.
    “They’re not going to like it,” he said.
    “It’s war.” She shook her head and looked down at him. “They’re not supposed to like it. But it’s not as if we’re trying to take their country from them. We’re just taking a few pieces.”
    “Do you know what I was reading?” Fyodor’s voice was scratchy. “When the Americans took Alaska from us, they bought it for two cents an acre.”
    “If you can call that buying,” Zasha said, getting angry. “That’s why we’ve come to take it back.”
    This wasn’t a landgrab, though. The Russian Federation hardly needed more land. This was about damaging the United States. The Russian terrorists had already done a fine job of bringing the so-called last superpower to its knees. This invasion would make that damage more permanent.
    And really, most of the attack was focused on Canada. Yes, they were attacking into Washington and Oregon, but the Canadian oil reserves were the real target. Once the Russians were sitting right on top of the Americans, and were controlling oil reserves as large as those of Saudi Arabia, the United States would know fear. They’d know what it meant to have your enemies at your front door.
    Zasha looked down at Fyodor. “Do you realize how valuable you are?”
    “Do you realize how valuable we are?” he corrected. “We’re partners.”
    As they neared Port Angeles, artillery fire opened up on the northern side—the American military in a desperate defense. She heard the dull thud as the guns fired.
    “It looks like we’re back to work,” she said.
    Fyodor groaned. “I’m tired.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said, pulling a syringe from the Velcro pouch on her chest.
    “Do it quick.”
    “Soon we’ll reach Seattle,” she said. “Once the landing is over, we’re sure to get some rest.”
    She plunged the needle into his arm, and at once his back arched and he writhed in pain.
    She turned a wide curve and flew toward the sound of the battery. The Americans were hidden well, in a forest she thought she remembered as being a national monument of some kind. But the smoke and flame from their howitzers were clearly visible from her vantage point.
    The soldiers must have known it was a suicide mission. There were maybe twenty guns against an entire fleet. The weapons were an improvement over previous artillery pieces the Americans had used, but that made them all the more vulnerable to Zasha’s tactics.
    These new artillery pieces had digital fire-control systems, and they used a GPS-guided munition. She’d have to kiss everyone in the logistics and analysis team. None of that would work anymore. They were essentially firing blind, without even radio communication from forward