5. Sasha
SASHA
“Y ou made it to special ops?”
I nod, kicking at a few pebbles, then slowly, almost sheepishly, raise my head to stare at Uncle Albert.
He’s older than my late father, has bushy brows and a round face and a big nose, as well as pointy ears. My cousins and I used to call him the fat elf in our ignorant younger years.
Uncle Albert just laughed it off and even asked Papa and my other uncle not to reprimand us.
He was the mediator of the family, the account keeper, and the peace that maintained the bridge between my third volatile uncle and my hotheaded Papa.
Now, there’s only he and I to protect the other two remaining members of our family. And, hopefully, find my brother one day.
Small hands reach out for my face, grabbing at air. “Sasha…Sasha…”
I scoop my youngest cousin, Mike, from Uncle’s clutches. He’s four years old and the only survivor of Uncle Albert’s children. In fact, he’s my only cousin who stayed alive.
Mike was lucky enough to be hidden away by his mother in the cupboard at the time of the massacre. The cost of that sacrifice was her life, but he, at least, didn’t witness all the blood. He doesn’t remember her, either, since he was only a few months old at the time.
I’d give my life to protect the innocence that shines in his light eyes. They translate everything beautiful and pure. Whenever I look at him, I’m reminded of the laughter, adventures, and mischievousness his elder siblings and I used to take for granted.
It wasn’t until I lost them about four years ago that I realized just how privileged we were.
Mike’s fair hair has grown, becoming longer and wilder, nearly eating up his small face. “You need a haircut, Mishka.”
He giggles and then pats my cheek. “Man, Sasha.”
“Am I?” I use my manly voice, and he breaks into a fit of giggles as he hugs me tighter.
“You are!”
“My little bear is so old now, he can even tell what I sound like.”
“Yup! Babushka says I’m gonna be a big boy and help ya.”
“You will?”
He rolls his eyes with so much attitude for a four-year-old. “Of course! You can’t do it on your own, Sasha. You’re no Superman.”
“And you are?”
“I’m gonna be. And I’m also gonna stop Babushka from crying every night.”
My heart squeezes, and I raise my head to gauge Uncle Albert’s reaction. He’s leaning against the wall of the old, deserted warehouse we agreed to meet in.
It took me a few hours of hitchhiking to get here, but it’s located far enough from the heart of Saint Petersburg that no one could follow or locate me.
Our communications are done strictly through an encrypted phone from my uncle’s end and a burner from mine. I could’ve gotten one like his, but the chances of it being confiscated in the military are a lot higher than I’m willing to risk.
Gloomy silence creeps through the air of the small shed as the icy merciless winter air slips in from the cracks in the walls. The strong wind blows and whistles in a violent symphony.
Four years ago, we lost our family, our social standing, and our business.
We had to stay in hiding and constantly moved from one nook of Russia to the next.
Two years ago, we were found by mercenaries sent by our enemies, and once they heard I was still alive, they nearly managed to kill me if it weren’t for Uncle.
Since my father was the head of the family, I’m the only heir alive.
The only one who’s able to gather his contacts and rebuild our business from scratch.
Uncle and Babushka said it’ll be dangerous if they learned I’m still alive, so they faked my death and I had to live as a man since. With a fake name and background.
A few months after that incident, I joined the army to find out who ordered the hit.
Uncle still has some contacts in there and he’s also trying to rebuild our network, but it’s hard when our last name is blacklisted in Russia.
“Is it true about Babushka?” I ask my uncle.
He throws up a dismissive hand. “That’s not important right now. The fact that you leveled up does.”
“Didn’t you say the higher I climb in rank, the better?”
He nods solemnly as he pushes off the wall with difficulty and squeezes my shoulder the way my father used to do to my older brother. The memory makes my stomach coil, and my breathing deepens and hardens.
“I’m proud of you, Sasha.” Uncle Albert’s voice rings in the hollowness of my rib cage. “I knew you had the spirit of a warrior.”
“I will do anything for our family.” And I mean every word. I was too young and weak to stop the previous attack that robbed us of everything.
This time, it’ll be different.
This time, I have the chance to accomplish something else.
“I know.” He pats my shoulder once more before he releases me. “Promise me you’ll be careful and not reveal your gender or identity. You’re only safe when you’re someone else, Sasha.”
I nod.
“Don’t get close to anyone who’s prone to uncovering your real gender.”
Another nod.
“I know you must feel lonely, but if you make any friends and they figure out who you actually are, none of us will be safe. I can disappear easily, but not with your grandmother and Mike. They’d slow me down and we’d eventually be in danger.”
“That won’t happen. I promise.”
The stress of the past couple of years, ever since we fell from grace, covers his features. I stop and stare at the lines in the corners of his eyes and notice that he appears to have aged a decade or more since everything went down.
Ever since I enlisted, I’ve avoided visiting in order to prevent being followed. Uncle, however, is shackled by family matters—Babushka's health and temper, Mike’s needs and livelihood, and all other measures he has to take to keep them well hidden and looked after.
I have no clue what I would’ve done without him.
Letting Mike play with the zipper of my coat, I lean in farther to whisper, “Have you found out anything about Anton?”
A sheen of sadness covers his features before he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Sasha.”
My heart squeezes, but I force a smile. “I’m sure we’ll find him. Maybe he left the country or the continent. Or maybe he’s laying low, knowing that we’re being searched for.”
“I suggest you take the worst into account, too.”
I shake my head vehemently. “No. We didn’t find his body, which means he’s alive somewhere. I just know it.”
My brother wouldn’t abandon me. If he were dead, we would’ve found his corpse, but we didn’t. I’m sure he escaped and is biding his time for revenge like Uncle Albert and I.
Maybe he was badly injured and has to undergo medical care. Whatever the reason is, I’m sure Anton is out there. Somewhere.
He’s five years older than me, so he’s twenty-five now. Probably doing everything in his power to survive like the four of us.
Sometimes, I hurt, wondering how he could’ve abandoned us. It’s been almost four years, and my uncle’s top-notch contacts haven’t been able to find a trace of him.
Even if Anton was injured, it wouldn’t have taken him years to get better, right?
Short of Mike’s idle chattering and cheerful sounds, another cloud of gloomy silence overtakes the warehouse
I stroke his hair, greedily feeding off his bright energy. It’s hard to believe that I was once like him—carefree, cheerful, and utterly unaware of the disaster that was brewing in the background. Those times feel like forever ago.
“We’ll have to limit these meetings now that you’re in special ops,” Uncle Albert announces.
My fingers come to a halt in Mike’s hair, and his father must pick up on the change in my demeanor since he elaborates, “It’s not safe.”
“But I can at least see you and Mike once in a while, right?”
“No, Sasha. Leaving the base to meet your supposedly dead family members will only warrant attention. That’s the last thing we need.”
My chin trembles, and I hate having the sudden urge to cry. The wound that’s been pulsing beneath my flesh for four years gnaws and rips at the surface.
It’s like I’m in the middle of that blood all over again. I’m losing the remnants of my family, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Maybe once every few months?” I try in a voice so weak, I’m surprised he hears it.
My uncle shakes his head again. “Not while you’re in the Special Forces. They have stricter rules and stronger intelligence. I’m just glad we can still bribe the medical examiner and give you some privileges, but everything else is dark waters we shouldn’t tread near.”
“Then when can I see you guys?”
“A year, or a few. Depends on whether or not you can find the one who ordered the hit within the army.”
The pain in my chest grows and inflates. “He was a commandant, no? I won’t be able to get close to him unless I’m promoted several times. That will take years, if not decades.”
“Is that time not worth it?”
“It’s not about time, it’s about not seeing you again.”
“A small sacrifice to make.”
“Does…Babushka know about my future estrangement from the family?”
“She suggested this.”
“Oh.” My feet falter, and it takes everything in me to remain standing. I’ve never been my grandmother’s favorite grandchild, but she loves me. In her own strict, somewhat patriarchal way.
It’s no secret that she prefers boys. Girls are a liability—a means that could bring disaster and dishonor to their family—as my estranged aunt did when she eloped.
I’ve always felt like Babushka dislikes me for being saved by four of my male cousins, who all died. Her eyes tell me she wishes we’d traded places. But when I spoke to Uncle Albert about this, he said I was thinking too much.
However, he’s an expert conflict avoider. Of course he’d try to build a bridge between her and me. As he did with Papa and my third uncle.
“You’re still one of us. Even if the world knows you by a different name, gender, and appearance, I’ll always remember you as my Sashenka.”
“Uncle…”
“Say your name out loud, so you’ll never forget it.”
My lips tremble. It’s been so long that it feels foreign on my tongue. “Aleksandra Ivanova.”
“Sasha…Sasha…” Mike chants in my arms, and I smile.