5. Sasha #2
When Uncle Albert attempts to take him away, he throws a fit and refuses to leave. He even announces that he’s not on speaking terms with his father.
I kiss his forehead and smooth his golden mane of hair. “We’ll meet again, Mishka.”
“But when?”
“When you’re older and stronger and you become Superman.”
“Okay!” He grins, his eyes dripping with an endearing innocence.
The thought that I won’t witness him growing up or hear his adorable laughter in the near future fills me with heavy desperation.
He goes to his father’s arms without much protest this time, and I grab onto his coat for a bit too long before I kiss his cheek and finally let go.
“If there’s anything urgent, send me the usual code,” Uncle Albert tells me.
“And how will you reach me if there’s something urgent from your side?”
“I have enough friends to get to you. Don’t worry.”
I release a resigned breath as he pulls on his and Mike’s hoods, then they step out into the freezing air. My cousin continues waving and throwing kisses at me for as long as he can see me.
The moment they disappear into the distance, I slide to the ground, pull my knees to my chest, and finally let the tears loose.
* * *
After I’ve bid my uncle and cousin farewell, a crippling sense of loneliness grabs hold of me. It gets so bad that I find it hard to breathe or think.
To avoid being questioned, I don’t go back to base right away. I’m on the edge right now and I might crack too easily under pressure.
Usually, I’d be doing muscle-strengthening exercises during my day off, but today, I took a break and was so excited to see my uncle and Mike. I feel even more accomplished since I rose in rank.
Turns out, this promotion is more of a curse than a blessing.
It’s been a week since I joined the Special Forces, and while it’s more intense than in my previous unit, I’ve learned to push myself and gradually remove my mental cage.
The moment I get comfortable at a certain pace, Captain Kirill completely overthrows it. Not only that, but he also has Viktor as the supervisor in charge, and he’s nothing short of a stoic, unbendable rock.
The other soldiers are used to him and his ways, so I’m the only one who has to adapt. Even the new recruits have integrated better than I have.
Absentmindedly, I roam the snowy streets for a few hours. The cold freezes my tears, but I still walk and walk. My feet come to a halt in front of a beautiful lace dress at the front of a shop. The creamy color gives it an elegant edge and the lace adds a beautiful feminine touch.
My heart swells. Will there ever be a day where I’ll wear a dress again?
I internally shake my head. Even if I do get the chance, would I know how to move in a dress anymore?
It’s been years since I wore one.
I begrudgingly step away from the shop and disappear in the herd of people. Once I’m calmer and have better control of my emotions, I head back to base.
I walk in with my back straight and my strides wide. It weirdly gives me confidence that I so desperately need in my current state.
The moment I step foot into the dormitory, large boots appear in front of me. I know who they belong to before looking up, and I straighten further before saluting.
“Where were you off to, Lipovsky?” Viktor’s gruff voice sounds heightened in the silence.
“I went out for a stroll.” I technically did, so it’s not a lie.
“Is a stroll more important than training, soldier?”
“No, but it’s my day off.”
“What did you just say?”
My spine jerks, and I realize that maybe I fucked up and shouldn’t have answered that way.
Not that I’m lying, and I shouldn’t be expected to be available for training on my days off, but someone as rigid as Viktor wouldn’t understand.
He has his set views and opinions, and he’s like an unmovable mountain.
He reminds me of Babushka in some ways.
“Leave the newbie alone, Viktor.” A different voice comes from behind me before its owner stops beside me.
The newcomer is another member of the unit. He looks a few years older than me, is built like a wall, and has angular yet weirdly welcoming features.
“You.” Viktor points at him. “Stay out of it, Maksim.”
“No can do. You’re bullying the poor man.” Maksim grabs me by the shoulder and basically drags me out back.
I don’t resist, not even when I feel the murderous energy radiating from Viktor.
“Are you sure that was a good idea?” I whisper as we go outside. Instantly, my nose starts running and needles of cold penetrate my skin.
I’d rather stay in the semblance of warmth inside, but I doubt Maksim would hear that request. He seems like the type who sweeps you off your feet for some sort of adventure.
“Never mind! You don’t know this, but Viktor is like a mountain you occasionally have to climb or simply jump over so that he stops being a pain in the ass, especially when we have an excuse such as a day off… Jesus, you feel so small, newbie.”
I go rigid, but then I force myself to relax again. “My name is Aleksander.”
“I’m Maksim. I noticed you being all stiff and alone this past week, and we don’t do that shit in this unit.” He tilts his chin forward. “How about some fun?”
We come to halt in front of a field for…football.
The soldiers are divided into two teams of eleven players. Concentration and contempt shine on their faces as if they’re on the battlefield.
A flat-out war is taking place. Not only do they tackle and hit each other, but they basically step on one another on the artificial turf.
Maksim, showing little to no care about the brutal play, strolls into the middle of an attack and steals the ball. Then he tactfully slips from the clutches of a few angry players.
“You and you. Out.” He points at two soldiers. “Lipovsky and I will be subbing in.”
At the mention of my name, almost everyone’s attention turns to me. I might not get as much shit from these guys as I did with Matvey and his goons, but they haven’t warmed up to me either. They keep me at arm’s length and barely address me at the meal table.
In fact, Maksim is the first one who’s ever talked to me.
“It’s okay,” I say, conscious of the unpleasant energy. “I can watch.”
“Nonsense.” Still holding the ball, Maksim comes to fetch me by dragging me in a half chokehold that kind of cuts off my air, but I’ve come to know that guys generally handle each other with roughness.
In theory, I can fight the dragging, but in reality, I can’t. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to.
Despite my mother’s protests, I played football with my cousins and my brother all the time when we were growing up. It’s one of those games that holds a special place in my heart.
“Give back the ball, motherfucker!” someone shouts from the distance.
“That’s Yuri,” Maksim tells me. “The true motherfucker in this unit. Don’t sleep near him, Aleksander, or you’ll suffer a slow death. He snores like a dying pig.”
Some soldiers laugh and point at Yuri, who glares at each and every one of them.
“Ready, bitches?” Maksim stands in the middle of the field, then—no surprise here—throws the ball in our team’s direction instead of the middle.
Apparently, there’s no formation in this thing. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to play defense, midfield, or offense. Turns out, everyone plays all spots at once.
All twenty-two soldiers are wherever the ball is.
No fouls are counted, no matter how many hits are exchanged. Cards? Forget about that. Fair play? No way in hell. In fact, the referee is egging the teams on and calling them names for not scoring.
To say it’s chaos is an understatement.
This should be labeled combat football instead of the regular type.
Still, we keep losing the ball to the more aggressive players of the other team. They’re also bulkier, which makes it unnerving to even look at them, let alone try to fight them for the ball.
At one of our aimless attacks, I stay back and tell Maksim to do the same. He raises his hands and shouts, “But we’re missing all the fun!”
“Trust me,” I mouth, not taking my eye off the ball. “I’ll be right-wing, and you take the left. Whoever has the ball, the other runs forward, got it?”
“Well, all right. This plan better be worth missing the action for.”
“It will be,” I say with confidence.
As expected, a player from the other team steals possession of the ball, and he comes running in our direction.
Naturally, everyone else follows him like a herd. Maksim takes the one with the ball by surprise and steals it.
“Lipovsky!” he shouts, but I’m already running toward the goal. When he passes the ball, I’m there to catch it.
The other team runs at a frightening speed toward me. I don’t wait to have the best shot and, instead, go in blind.
A couple of bodies slam into me, and I’m about to be knocked off my feet, but then I’m not.
The ones who attacked me are my teammates, and they’re holding me up, cheering at the top of their lungs.
I scored.
Holy shit. I scored .
Maksim shakes me by the shoulders, then headlocks me. “I knew you’d fit right in, Aleksander.”
I smile for the first time since I said goodbye to Uncle Albert and Mike.
“You can call me Sasha,” I tell him.
“Call me Maks.” He grabs me by the shoulder and faces the others. “I accept sacrifices for bringing in a scorer for the team.”
They give him shit about that statement, and he just calls them names, then they’re all flipping each other off.
Some soldiers slap me on the back, others welcome me aboard, and even the members of the other team give me a thumbs-up.
Does this mean I broke the ice with them?
Do I…finally belong here?
My smile falters when my gaze clashes with an icy one. Sometimes, it’s like I’m staring at a piece of the Arctic Ocean.
Captain Kirill.
For the past week, he’s mostly ignored my existence. Viktor was the one who oversaw my individual training while he gave the orders from afar.
For a second, I think maybe he’s watching the game, but his arms are crossed, and his glare falls on me.
Frighteningly so.
My heart nearly beats out of my rib cage. I think there’s a problem with me. Otherwise, why would I feel like he’s peeling my skin apart and revealing each and every one of my secrets?
And for some reason, I think he might be well capable of that.
The reality of the situation hits me then. Captain Kirill may be what makes me stronger, but he’s also dangerous.
The type of danger that will swallow me alive if I don’t keep my cards close to my chest.