Cold Spring

[Confederal Republics]

PROLOGUE

25 Club and Grill
25 Liikkalankatu
Santahamina
Province of Alavus
Confederal Republic of Pohjola

"Everyone who's Air Assault, names, units and identity cards now!", Sergeant Jussi Halman bellowed, his standard-issue MP baton pointed in the direction of the five onlookers for emphasis. Though evidently in various stages of alcoholic intoxication, they obeyed, deciding that to offer resistance to the three military policemen who had just joined two members of the Pohjolan Police Force as well as the bar's four bouncers at the site of the unrest would have been a fairly dumb move.

Nodding his head when the five men, now standing in a row, begun to produce military identity cards, Halman left Corporal Jackson to record their names. Air Assault soldiers, all of them. Not exactly a surprise in a city of thirty thousand, where the largest single employer was the CNDF, specifically through the Fort Somers military base and its tenant units including the 11th Air Assault Brigade and the 27th Air Transport Regiment. A bunch of fit, nearly bald men like that in a bar in this town were bound to be military especially as this Monday would be a day off for them and 25 was a favorite soldier hangout. Hell, Halman was sure that he'd seen these guys before anyway.

"So, what happened?", Sergeant Halman asked one of the doormen, whom he incidentally recognized as Staff Sergeant Hälinen from Fort Somers' Air Force security team, in spite of the black pilot jacket with a "SECURITY" breastpatch that he wore instead of the usual camoflage uniform. Evidently, the man recognized him as well.

"The one with the blood all over his face started a fight with this guy here", Hälinen said, pointing at one of the five soldiers standing nearby with a policeman and two of the bouncers, "Typical dancefloor scuffles, you know the deal."

Halman nodded, noticing the second cop with a handcuffed, seated man administering first aid.

"So his friend comes at him from behind and strikes him with an empty beer bottle", the moonlighting Air Force sergeant continued and pointed at another man, handcuffed and lying facedown on the floor next to another doorman, "Then when the guy's down he kept at it until we showed up and pulled him off, gave us a hell of a fight too. One of your guys, by the way."

Hälinen handed Sergeant Halman an identity card, and the military policeman sighed when he realized that it was one of the Air Assault Corps. 83rd Air Jaeger Battalion, 11th Air Assault Brigade. Private Jan Leavitt.

"Private", Halman asked, approaching the handcuffed soldier, "Are you injured?"

"I want to complain against the doormen in this shithole of a bar, I ain't done shit!", the response came from the Private, incoherently enough for Halman to guess that the man was way more drunk than was appropriate. One of those moments when you seriously grew to question your choice of personal career.

"The other guy's going to stay with us overnight, though we'll take him to the emergency room first", one of the regular police officers cut in, "Seeing that if he presses charges they'll come through the MoD court, so we'll be letting you know about this tomorrow."

"Right", Halman nodded, "Jackson, got the names taken?"

"Yes, sir", Corporal Jackson replied while placing his notebook back into his uniform's breast pocket, "They're all with the same battalion as him."

"Alright, the Private's here going back to the barracks. The rest of you are looking at a hearing unless you're back at your barracks within the hour."

Sighing, Sergeant Jussi Halman pulled on his gloves and nodded at Jackson to help him lift Private Leavitt off the ground. Another night of noticeably dreary routine for a garrison town MP. Little did he know that he'd be wishing for that routine to return in a few weeks time.

 

[Confederal Republics]

The Degerby Homestead
Esby
Province of Järnö North
Confederal Republic of Järnmark

"Rafael, go back inside", Jonas Andersson Degerby urged his son, who had come out of their homestead to the snow-covered porch to see what was going on.

"But it's not bedtime yet."

"It is now, damn it!", Jonas shouted at Rafael, and instantly later regretted the harsh tone he had taken towards his son. Luckily at the same moment his wife and the mother of his children Anna appeared, leading the ever-curious Rafael back inside into the house. When Jonas heard the sturdy wooden door of the homestead's main building close up behind him and saw Anna closing the shutters of the house's windows, first in the lobby, then in the kitchen and the living room, he breathed a sigh of relief. Their children need not witness this, whatever was going on. Hell, Jonas himself didn't know.

But he had an idea. His binoculars raised to his eyes, Jonas Andersson Degerby saw even in the darkness that two of the vehicles that were approaching along the road leading to the homestead were pick-up trucks with even their truck beds loaded with men. The third one? A four-wheeler truck. With no insignia or visible weapons, they could hardly be members of the Confederal Army or Home Guards. They could be some of his fellow reindeer herders, but he doubted it.

Indeed, his suspicions were confirmed when at the end of the surprisingly mind-troubling approach the lead pick-up came to a halt almost next to him, and armed men in ragged ad hoc uniforms, some in snow-suits but others in plain camoflage or olive drab, jumped out. Eight men in total exiting the truck with assault rifles in hand, they paid no heed to him, instead as one of them barked orders running to scatter around their location. A similar scene unfolded at the rear pick-up, and Jonas realized that the fighters were scattering around to secure the homestead. Only was attention paid to him until the moment the occupants of the front cab of the largest truck got out.

"Jonas, how are you doing!", a man who exited the passenger's side of the front cab with an assault rifle slung over his shoulder shouted in a familiar, yet tense manner. It took a while for him to realize who it was.

"Axel!", Jonas shouted back, and from the deference the three others who had got out of the truck he subtly realized what Axel's role here was. Their leader.

Axel Nilsson Hedman had lived only a kilometer away in his youth, the son of a local hunter. Couple of years older than Jonas, he had been introduced by Jonas's elder brother Michael who had been in the same school class as him. Axel had always been best friends with his brother, indeed to such a degree that one day they'd made a decision to leave this small hamlet together. To south into Järnstad, where he'd heard they'd been before the two had dropped out of touch with him. And now, armed men swarming the homestead with Axel as their head? Insurgents? Could it be?

"What the hell is going on here?", Jonas asked with a surprised face, watching Axel nod at three other armed men at his side, who promptly went off to the back of the truck.

"We need your help, and fast", Axel replied tensely, glancing back at the truck and barking, "Yes, get him out damn it, we need to get him inside fast!"

"Get who inside?", Jonas asked as he watched one of the gunmen climb into the covered truck bed, then watched as his buddies begun to receive what he quickly recognized as a loaded stretcher. Axel didn't reply, instead looking at the direction of the three stretcher-bearing gunmen and a fourth one who had now joined them.

It was then that Jonas Degerby realized what this was about. Indeed, in spite of the man's older facial features and the beard that he had grown, he recognized Michael Andersson Degerby as if he'd never left home. The dried blood on the stretcher and on his brother's camoflage uniform made Jonas realize what had happened.

"My God", Jonas managed to utter, then thought. His wife he could always talk to, and was sure that she'd see things eye-to-eye with him, but the children didn't need to be involved. "Get him upstairs, quietly, and move those cars into the barns or something."

The silent procession of gunmen that bore his brother Michael on a stretcher moving towards the house, Jonas turned back at Axel, "What the hell has happened to my brother? And who are all these people?"

"Jonas", Axel said, taking a deep breath, "Before I'll tell what happened you will have to promise that this doesn't get out. Not even to your wife, you have one, right?"

Jonas could only manage a nod.

"Very well", Axel continued, "Your brother and I...we are members of the Northern Movement of the Red Star."