Nadya's War

by C. S. Taylor

  My head spun left and right, trying to find where his attacker had gone. Pain raced through my arm, further distracting me. “I can’t find him anywhere,” I said. “Coming down to you now, Major.”

  “Negative!” he barked. “I’ll get home. Regroup with Tania and Alexandra and make them pay.”

  “Yes, comrade major,” I said, cutting left.

  A 109 appeared, corkscrewing around my plane and banking away. The plane’s bright red Jagdgeschwader Udet emblem and yellow eight on its side burned in my eyes. Rademacher was here, and he had at least a dozen more victory tallies painted on his tail since last we met.

  “God, this can’t be happening,” I said, horrified he’d been on me again and I hadn’t known it. He must have been using Gridnev’s fur ball for bait as much as I had.

  Rademacher flew off, and I wasn’t able to bring my plane around in time to shoot. I wanted to pursue, but Tania was still fighting about a kilometer away. I turned toward her, hoping we could bring her Messer down before Rademacher could reengage. It would be two versus one if we did, and I was confident Rademacher would lose against those odds.

  Tania had the upper hand, and the German pilot tried to get her to follow him into a hard turn. She pulled a high-G yo-yo and peppered the 109’s fuselage with her machine guns. To my dismay, there was no noticeable effect.

  “This is a tough one,” she growled over the radio.

  The German flipped his plane and dove. Tania followed, shooting the entire way. Instead of giving chase, I brought my plane in a high arc and searched for Rademacher. It was a good excuse to give my throbbing arm a rest. Besides, he’d be using our fixation on this Messer against us and I had to account for him. Sadly, he was nowhere to be seen. How that was possible was beyond me.

  The lead Peshka pilot radioed in. “Bombs dropping. Egressing.”

  I looked left and caught sight of the bombers a few kilometers out, racing away from the rail station. German anti-aircraft fire sent a relentless barrage at all of them. Eighteen bombs hit a split second later, their blasts mesmerizing and horrifying. I could practically feel the concussive wave in my chest.

  “I need help!” Tania said. “They’re both on me!”

  Her panicked call stopped my heart. I couldn’t see where she was, so I inverted my plane and looked out the top of my canopy. I found Tania skirting the treetops, headed south. She weaved back and forth as two German fighters were locked on her tail and alternated shooting at her. God, how did Rademacher get on her without me knowing?

  “Alexandra, we need you,” I said, pushing the throttle all the way forward and going into a dive. “Where’s that German you were on?”

  “Put him in the ground,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “I’m with the bombers, but coming to you now.”

  It would be three on two at this point. I tried to stay positive, but my mouth ran dry and my hands shook. The pain in them increased tenfold and I wondered if I’d even be able to press the triggers. I distracted myself from those thoughts by talking to Tania. “Keep moving, girl. You’ll be fine.”

  She was over a kilometer from my position, but at least I was gaining. All I could do was pray I’d reach her in time. I prayed harder than I had ever before. With each beat of my heart, with each desperate sharp turn she made, I begged for her to live. I didn’t care about shooting down Rademacher, though I’d gladly have smashed my plane into his if that’s what it took. I only wanted Tania to get home. I even offered myself in her place.

  Both 109s opened up on her at the same time, and her plane burst into flames. Before it hit the ground, I was already headed to Anisovka, calling Alexandra off and choking back the tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I sat near the bank of the Volga River with Zhenia’s cat Bri in my lap. I stroked the top of her head while I stared at the water. The glass-like surface was seductively dangerous, for as inviting as the scene looked, the combination of strong undercurrents and freezing temperatures would prove fatal in short order. As I replayed the loss of Tania over and over in my head, I entertained the idea of swimming out as far as I could and letting Fate do the rest.

  Those dark seeds, however, never blossomed in to action. Suicide would result in eternal damnation, and while I felt God had little care for me and my plight, I didn’t want to do anything to seal my fate forever. I’d also dishonor my lineage of ancestors who’d lost family and friends time and again, yet still fought on with heads held high. The pain of Tania’s loss would pass, I told myself, and I refocused my thoughts on the gentle sound and vibration of Bri’s purrs.

  Stupid cat. As much as I tried to find my strength, I knew I was pretending to be the huntress. Clearly I was not. The huntress didn’t sit at home, worried to death, and question everything she did. The huntress, like the mouser, lounged, purred, and knew who the mice were. A mouse could never change that.

  “There’s nothing you could have done, you know.”

  Klara approached with a thick blanket wrapped around her. I shrugged at her comment and went back to my staring. “You weren’t there,” I said. “I anticipated the fight with Gridnev’s Messer. A good pilot would’ve done the same with Rademacher and brought Tania home. So what does that make me to everyone else?”

  “It shouldn’t matter,” she said. “You should be proud of yourself no matter what anyone else thinks of you.”

  “It shouldn’t, but it does,” I said. “Funny thing is, I get the feeling that even if I had shot Rademacher down, I’d still feel the same way.”

  “I think if you shot him down you’d explode with excitement,” she said.

  Two months ago, I would’ve agreed without question. Now, I couldn’t even force myself to. “In the moment, maybe,” I said. “But I don’t care about my victory today, and I’m not sure why. I honestly don’t think having Rademacher’s name attached to it would change anything.”

  “You’re crazy,” Klara said with a stifled laugh. “But for what it’s worth, Gridnev thinks you did well. So does Alexandra.”

  I perked. “Since when do you talk to her?”

  “Since you came back looking like Vladimir Sukhomlinov and told Alexandra to leave you alone.”

  I snorted. Vladimir Sukhomlinov was the Minister of War during the Great War, disgraced and exiled for near-traitorous performance. “Perhaps I should be punished like he was. I couldn’t save another girl, and I turned tail and ran the moment I could. Hardly the daring warrior I should be.”

  God, I was a wreck. Part of me wanted to defend and fight as I should, both of which required me killing the enemy, and I was starting to realize that the other part hated every bit of it. This idea was new, small, but clearly there, like a lighthouse barely cresting over the horizon, calling in the dark. This put me at odds with myself, and I was certain the war wouldn’t ever let it be resolved.

  Klara sat next to me and put half the blanket across my shoulders so we could share it. I’d been out here so long, I’d grown numb to the cold—palm aside. A rat gnawing on my bones would’ve been more pleasant than what raced up my arms. For the love of all, I wanted a syrette more than I wanted life itself at that point.

  “I’m sorry I’m such poor company,” I said, nestling into her. “I know this was supposed to be our special time I’d promised, but I’m stuck on that sortie.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad to be with you through thick or thin.” Klara leaned her head on mine. “You know, if you hadn’t been there, no one might have come back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Despite the fact Rademacher was there, you still shot down one of his own,” she replied. “Alexandra sent another into the ground, and the Major came home alive. Not to mention, all the bombers made successful drops and got back alive. There are a lot of girls here who wouldn’t have fared as well.”

  Her words sank into my mind. She had me there. Many others in our regiment would have ended up as a tally on Rademacher’s tail, but I also knew if I hadn’t been in pain,
I might have reacted fast enough clear Tania’s six. “I wish I could’ve done more is all.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m sure the Major and Alexandra think the same about themselves. But you’ve got to stop beating yourself up. You’re destined for greatness.”

  “No. Greatness isn’t reserved for a-”

  I cut myself off, and Klara picked it right up. “A what?”

  I wanted to say it wasn’t reserved for a drugged-addicted thief, but I couldn’t get the words out.

  She rubbed my shoulder and gently wiped my cheeks. “Why are you crying?”

  I sniffed and cleared my eyes. “I really want some morphine.”

  “We’ll get through it.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” I paused for a good three breaths to work up my courage. “I almost took some today.”

  “But you didn’t.” Her words were quiet now, barely audible over my heart pounding in my chest.

  “Not by choice. After the debrief, I tried to slip into the doctor’s office, but he came back early from lunch.” I felt my soul retreat far away out of shame, and I sat there for God knew how long, waiting for Klara to disown me.

  Instead, she turned my chin and planted a kiss square on my lips. She brushed my cheek, and my hand pressed into her chest with a slight quiver. All I could do was hold my breath while my mind ran wild with delight and shock.

  She sucked in a breath before kissing me again. Passion flowed from her into me, and my body warmed in response. The tip of her tongue found the inside of my mouth, and her hands went under my coat. I ran my fingers through her hair before running them down her neck.

  The engagement lasted for eternity yet ended in a flash—such is the way of love. When I finally pulled back, it was only because fear gripped me as to what destiny we were both barreling out of control toward. She wanted it all, but I couldn’t spare the energy for secrets, and female couples were not looked highly upon. “Klara-”

  She put a finger on my mouth and silenced me. “I need to say something,” she said with her voice trembling as much as my body. “I love you, Nadya. I’ve loved you ever since we first met. I’ve wanted to tell you so many times but was afraid. All I could do was pen a thousand love letters in my head and imagine you lighting up each time you read them.”

  “Why are you telling me now?”

  “Because I want you to know there’s nothing on Earth you could say or do to drive me away,” she said. “I’ll be here for you through anything and everything. I know I said I didn’t want attention, but I meant from others, not you. I want your attention more than anything else in this world.”

  Goosebumps rose on my skin. My mouth opened, but no words came out. Somehow, the gravity of my addiction paled to the seriousness of her confession.

  “Please say something,” she said, looking as vulnerable as a lamb lost in the wild.

  “I love you, too,” I said. “But . . .”

  My hesitation filled in the rest. Klara’s brow furrowed, and there was pain in her eyes that could have only come from a twisted knife to the heart. “I thought-” She scooted away, and she stared at the ground while fidgeting with her hands. “We’ve always been so close. I don’t understand. You kissed me. You let me kiss you.”

  “I did. God, I was about to kiss you again long before this.”

  “Then why the ‘but’?”

  I loved the intimacy of our souls uniting to where the world around meant nothing. Tania’s loss, however, hammered a lesson I loathed to learn. The war did not cooperate with one’s plans for the future. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” I said. “Not with all the fighting and paranoid officers everywhere. One of these days I might not come back. Worse, they could drag us out of our bunks while we slept if certain people caught wind.”

  “Stop it,” she said, her eyes scolding me as much as her words. “Don’t you dare tell me who I can’t love. I know what the risks are. We can keep things quiet until the war is done.”

  My fingers traced the sides of her face. I dared to believe. “Can we?”

  “For you, I can be as patient as need be, especially if it means you’re mine once the Germans are gone.”

  The hope shining in her eyes made me want to grab her by the hand, steal a car, and run off right there. But I still had responsibilities, to my lineage, my God, my sisters in arms. “About the post war . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Where would we go? What would we do?”

  She laughed. “I don’t know. If this place doesn’t kill us, I’m sure we’ll be strong enough to figure that out.”

  She had me there. “If you really want to stay together, instead of finding you something with my bounty, we should save it for that bakery of yours.”

  Klara beamed, more joyful than any angel singing hymns. “And here I thought you forgot.”

  “Never,” I said, shaking my head. “Nothing I could think of seemed special enough. Not even chocolate.”

  Before I knew it, her lips pressed against mine, tighter and more passionate than before. “Is that a yes?” I asked once we parted.

  “Yes.” She cleared her eyes. “We’ll need more than one bounty to get it going, though. I hope you know that.”

  I shrugged. “Guess we better start saving.” I grimaced and flexed my hand. “Of course, all this assumes my arm doesn’t do me in first.”

  “You could try valerian. Doctor Burak has given it to some of the other girls to help them sleep,” Klara said, taking my hand and rubbing it. She didn’t do as good of a job as Alexandra did, but there was a thousand times more love put into it.

  “What’s that? A drug?”

  “An herb the ancient Greeks discovered,” she said. “Could help. All you would have to say is you’re having trouble sleeping. Some of the girls in the other squadron are already using it.”

  “I’ll try anything at this point.”

  “And you’ll have to tell Alexandra about the morphine,” she said. “I can’t be the only one to keep you honest.”

  She was right on that, though I was terrified of doing so. I’d have to work up the courage to bring my wingman in on the problem. Before our conversation went on, I heard someone whistling draw near. I looked over my shoulder to see Petrov a dozen paces away with a delighted face. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but I wanted to let you know your dugout is being searched.”

  My heart felt as if it jumped into my throat. “What for?”

  “I’m looking for missing medication,” he replied. “Well, some men along with Doctor Burak and Major Gridnev are, I should say. The Major insisted I stay away when I brought my case to him.”

  “You’re chasing a dream,” I said. I prayed he truly knew nothing, but understood the possibility he might actually have me. “It’s not my fault the doctor can’t keep track of his own supplies.”

  Petrov shrugged and smiled knowingly. “I don’t need your confession. You’ve got the strongest motive around here to be stealing it with your chronic pain, and you look sick often enough to point to withdrawals. He’ll find what you stole, and when he does, I’m going to stretch your neck for the entire regiment to see.”

  “You’re wrong,” Klara said, leveling a zealous gaze at him. “I know her better than anyone. She’d never steal.”

  “You’re a fine mechanic, Klara—if I may call you that—and you’re a shining example to all of what a Soviet should be. Strong. Dedicated. Selfless. But your good friend here has been manipulating you since you first met,” Petrov said. He popped out his silver pocket watch, gave it a glance, and said, “So, Junior Lieutenant, if you want to keep our game interesting, I suggest you start running. I’d say you’ve ten minutes at the most.”

  “I don’t need to,” I said, knowing there was nothing to be found.

  Petrov left with a brief goodbye. Klara and I watched him go. When he’d disappeared, I turned Klara’s face toward me and whispered, “Do you think he saw us?”

  I saw her swallow, and before sh
e answered, I knew she feared the same thing I had. There was no telling how long he’d been watching before we noticed him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The following day, Gridnev apologized for the search, stating he wanted the matter closed with Petrov and had had full confidence in me and nothing would be found. I ran into Petrov shortly thereafter on the airfield, asked if he’d heard about my second, confirmed kill, and said I looked forward to being not only the first female ace, but the first Cossack one too.

  I made the conversation polite enough that I couldn’t get into trouble with Gridnev, but I’m sure Petrov knew my intent: to dig under his skin with my success and stir the proverbial hornet nest. Risky, yes, but I wanted to flaunt my victories in the face of my enemies and show them I was far from beaten, even if he had burned my arm and combed my dugout. Despite my barely concealed taunts and the fruitless search he had ordered, Petrov remained cheery throughout our conversation. That could only mean he had something in the works. I loathed to find out what it was and was terrified that he’d been witness to Klara kissing me.

  If there was one good thing that came of it all, Gridnev was so embarrassed—though he never openly said so—that he practically gave the okay for Klara and I to be social with one another. Truthfully, he never verbally expressed consent, but simply turned a blind eye to our nightly escapes. I wasn’t complaining. Despite my fears on what Petrov might have seen, over the course of the next few nights, Klara and I spent countless hours watching the stars and fantasizing about the future. When bold (or careless) enough, we slipped further away from the airfield to further heat up the chemistry between us.

  Near the end of the week, I sat bundled on my bunk. The oil drum in the corner glowed from the burning coals inside. Water pooled around it, but the warmth it offered lasted a half pace at most. Snow crept in from the outside, and the dugout floor was frozen solid. The makeshift heater had needed more wood for hours now, but no one wanted to go cut some in the frigid dark, least of all me.