Evacuation (The Boris Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

from the dread grasping his heart at the sight of the panting messenger.  

    The runner gasped, “More came, Hetman. This afternoon after you left, a platoon marched through town and picked twenty-five people at random. They dragged them to the central square and shot them as foreign agents. No trial. The town has been declared to be under martial law. The soldier’s commander has imposed a curfew but seems to be leaving it to the police to enforce.”

    Those standing around Boris took a step back. The fury on his face was frightening even to those who knew him. He shouted to the gathered force. “We wait only for those who lost blood kin. When we march, my orders are blood and retribution! We will make them pay in blood for our losses, many times over this night. We will teach them fear, the knowledge of what happens when anyone attacks our people! Take the Captains and above ALIVE if at all possible. We need to understand if they have gone rogue or are acting on orders from above. As for curfew, we know the police in our town. They will not enforce it.”

    Within the hour Boris’ mixed group of Weres and townspeople started their march toward the old militia base. There was no doubt, all looked forward to bloody vengeance against the murderers. Boris and the pack led the way, with more than five hundred following.  

    Some of the men who had served with him on mercenary operations had pulled out their support equipment. Whoever these soldiers were, some mortars dropping in on their barracks would likely ruin their night for damned sure. Orders were given to avoid targeting the prison block. Enough people had seen the prisoners being taken and confined to know where they were being kept.  

    Boris knew he had to get past the sentries and take out the communications building and the APCs. If he could block any call for reinforcements and silence the heavy weapons, then the screams of those who preyed on his people would fill the night.

    It was a symphony he would hear, or die trying.

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