EndWar

A glance back revealed more forest to the southeast. Her GPS showed nothing but more of the same. However, if she went directly west, she’d run into a small road and an open field. Might even be a farm or two out there.

The reckless and basically suicidal thought to confront the troops did cross her mind. Shelly would have said, “Go for it.” Her sister had taken on some bullies when they’d been in middle school, literally beating all three girls to the ground, earning her a suspension for a month and summer school for two years.

But no one bothered Stephanie after that.

Unsurprisingly, it had been Shelly who had urged Stephanie to join the military, to take life by the horns, to recognize the warrior inside. She had cheered Stephanie on through the Air Force Academy and beyond—

Until the cancer had struck.

Sorry, Shell, I can’t take them on this time. I think I’ll beat them by running, not shooting. I’ve never been a great shot anyway.

When Sergeant Nathan Vatz, Captain Godfrey, and Warrant Officer Samson walked into the RCMP station, they were confronted by an empty front desk. On the walls behind hung photos of Mounties wearing their Stetsons and scarlet tunics with lanyards slung across their chests.

“I see they got things under control,” quipped Godfrey. “They’re at DEFCON One.”

Vatz laughed under his breath.

“It’s early,” Samson reminded them.

“Hello, anyone home?” Vatz called.

A woman, probably in her late fifties and dressed in a gray-and-blue RCMP uniform, appeared from behind a closed door, looking as though she had just risen from a deep sleep.

She took one look at their Nomex jumpsuits and frowned. “Can I help you?”

Vatz smiled inwardly over her accent.

“Ma’am? I’m Captain Godfrey. This is Warrant Officer Samson, and Sergeant Vatz. We’re Special Forces troops from the United States Army. We need to speak to the police chief or detachment commander, whatever you call him. And we need the mayor here immediately.”

“What’s going on? I saw something on the news about some Russian planes up north. Then we started getting weird military broadcasts by guys with Russian accents. We thought the satellite dish was messed up.”

“Ma’am, if you could just get those people here, we’ll fill you all in A-SAP.”

Vatz stepped away as one of his weapons sergeants called on the radio to say they’d used their plasma knives to gain entrance into the local sporting goods store and were securing clothing and more gear.

“Roger that. Zodiac Six’s team will be around to pick you up, then rally on us.”

It took ten precious minutes for the local detachment commander and mayor to arrive. Both were overweight men in their late fifties whose cholesterol levels had to be skyrocketing, Vatz mused.

But Vatz appreciated the mayor’s candor and easygoing demeanor when the man drawled, “What the hell’s going on, boys?”

Captain Godfrey spelled it out for him, and Vatz had never seen two men grow pale so quickly.

“You need to evacuate the entire town right now,” added Godfrey. “Get all the women and children in their cars, get on Highway 35, and get them down to Grand Prairie. That’s where our brigade from the Tenth Mountain Division will be coming in. We’ll set up camps for IDPs there.”

“IDPs?” asked the mayor.

“Internally displaced persons,” answered Godfrey. “Trust me, in the next few days, there will be tens of thousands of them.”

“All right, let me get everybody I have out there,” said the detachment commander.

“Just get those Suburbans rolling through those neighborhoods. Get on the bullhorn. Get ’em out.”

“You said only the women and children,” repeated the mayor.

“Vatz?” said Captain Godfrey. “Why don’t you explain it to him.”

Vatz cleared his throat. “Sir, the Russians will send recon elements first, by land and air. If we can hold them off until the Tenth arrives, we’ll have control of Highways 35 and 58. That’s what we need to do. The Russians can’t move their ground troops across the frozen lakes or through all the snow. It’s just too damned slow. They’ll stick to the roads. They’ll come to take the oil and gas fields at Rainbow Lake and Zama City west of here. And they’ll need control of this town if they’re going to push farther south. We can’t let that happen. Sir, we’re just two teams here, about twenty-five operators. We need every man willing to fight.”

The mayor’s jaw dropped. For a moment, he couldn’t speak; then he managed, “Are you kidding me?”

“No, sir. And there’s no time for a debate. They’re coming to take your town. If you own a rifle, I suggest you get it.”

“But this is Canada! We’re not in the war. We’re neutral, for God’s sake.”

Warrant Officer Samson drew an unlit cigar from his breast pocket, shoved it in his mouth. “Tell that to the Russians.”

McAllen and his Marines marched down the C-130’s loading ramp, ready to set foot on the tarmac of Fort McMurray Airport.