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    "I am not going to ask you again."

    "Then don't."

The room was dark; she couldn't see anything around her but the bleak table and the disgusting face of her captor, Beria. He was mostly all talk and hot air, but if he decided to man up and use that gun he held, her secret would be exposed. She looked at him with a glare, trying to look around the room and judge her surroundings, but the light was only bright enough for them to see one another. Her hands were bound behind her in a very uncomfortable position, and the surrounding area was cold. The room smelt of dust and old newspaper, musty like a basement. [Name] couldn't place her surroundings at all. Her feet were bound too, except they were also held down by chains to the chair she sat in. She wasn't going anywhere for awhile.

    "What have you done with Sasha?!" Beria demanded for the one hundredth time. 

    "That is for me to know, and for you to never find out." [Name] retorted.

    "I am growing weary of playing these games, [Name]." He clicked the revolver, glaring at her, "You are going to tell me where she is, or I will have your brains blown out on this floor!"

    "I have nothing for you." [Name] replied again.

The sound of a stinging slap echoed across the room, however by doing so Beria had revealed a little about where they were located. 

        'So, it is a fairly empty room.' [Name] thought to herself. She tried to think about where this would be, but still nothing came to her.

Beria, fed up with her replies and having gotten nowhere fast, blew out the candle and shoved a sack on her head.

        "Do not go anywhere, [Name]. I will be back for you." He hissed.

With that, a heavy door slammed from a small distance away, leaving the soldier alone in the darkness...

Knock knock knock...


The young girl awoke with a startle as the knocking invaded her dreamless sleep. She jolted up, looking around wildly for the revolver [Name] had left her the night before. Grabbing and nearly dropping the heavy firearm, she slowly made her way to the large, thick wooden door that separated her from the Hell above. She began to shake and sweat, the Hammer and Sickle above the doorway suddenly turning red with dripping blood before her eyes. Her fears came rushing back to her, and her previous sense of security melted before the sight of the symbols. There was that same knock again, which snapped her out of her manic episode. The farm tools above the door became just that again-- farm tools. Sasha shook her head to rid herself of the last bit of her psychological meltdown before approaching the door silently. Taking care to place her finger on the rim above the trigger, she slowly opened the door to reveal Shiveov holding a box. 

        "O-oh... it is just you, Shiveov." Sasha breathed. 

        "Yes yes, I have come with supplies you will be needing if you are going to stay down here. [Name] was not upstairs, so she must be here already, yes?"

However, when Shiveov didn't get a reply from her, he turned around to see what was wrong. His eyes widened as his brain registered the scene in front of him.


        "... Who is this?" she asked, pointing her gun at Luneth, the poor boy who'd just come to assist Shiveov. He had a panicked expression on his face as he tried to calm her down.

        "S-Sasha pl-please!" Luneth shakily wailed.

        "He is a comrade!" Shiveov yelped, trying to quell her emotions. 

Slowly, Sasha turned to look at the panicked senior soldier. Her eyes appeared cracked, her smile crooked. Shiveov rose an eyebrow, his hands out, his body tense and prepared to leap at her if he needed. What was he watching unfold in the young girl?

        "They were comrades too, were they not?" She practically whispered, turning back to Luneth, who was still shaking in his spot. Her finger moved to the trigger.

        "He is trustworthy, I swear it!" Shiveov argued.

        "...They were supposed to be trustworthy too, were they not? Are we not all comrades? All friendly? Because, no crime ever happens here, right? This is the Soviet Union! We are all law-abiding citizens! We-- They-- Comrades, would never do any harm to another... right?" She spoke, her voice becoming unstable and loud-- almost psychotic like. 

        "Sasha, " Luneth started, "I do not know in which the pains you have suffered under Beria--"

        "No, you have not! No one has!" She hissed.

        "But I do know that they are wrong. Beria is wrong. Stalin is..." He paused, looking around, "wrong. No one here thinks they are right by any means. I want to help you, Sasha. But, if you shoot me, I cannot. Please... please find it in your heart... to believe me. My words are true."

Sasha blinked but was otherwise silent and unresponsive after he finished his plea. Luneth then closed his eyes, seeing Sasha raise her arm up, expecting to die right then and there. The room was eerily silent for a few minutes; it seemed like hours. The silence was broken with soft sobbing and the clatter of the weapon dropping. Luneth jolted at the sound, his eyes snapping open and his body still tense. Sasha was weeping in Shiveov's arms, her fragile body trembling and shaking. Shiveov, a bit awkward with his actions, rubbed her back as she sobbed. Luneth picked up her gun and shut the door, locking it back. He sighed a breath of relief. 

        "I do not understand... what is happening to me." Sasha whimpered.

Shiveov frowned, fearing the worst.

        "...Your experience with Beria may have altered your state of mind." He whispered.

Sasha felt herself go into another fit of breathless sobbing. Beria not only ruined her life physically, but now mentally? Was there no place safe from his curse?!

        "It is okay. When Ivan returns, we will see to it that you are given treatment... and a safe home."

        "He will not return for another... t-two days... at best..." Sasha stammered.

        "We'll keep ya safe until he does, then!" Luneth boldly stated. 

Sasha turned to look at him, still shaking violently, but she gave him a small smile. There was something about his statement that made her glad. Maybe it was the simplicity of how he made the task seem, or maybe it was his youthful voice. She didn't know, but it made her... happy.

        "Thank you... Luneth." She breathed.

        "I hate to break up the loving support but... ah... where is [Name]?"

Sasha frowned, "I thought she was with you. She has not been down here since last night."

Shiveov looked to Luneth with a frown, "I have not seen her at all today. She has not been at her posts, nor her room."

Sasha grew pale suddenly, and nearly fainted on Shiveov. He tensed as her body fell back on his, struggling to get a good grip on her for a second. She stared at his chest with emotionless eyes.


        "Surely... s-surely she would have held her ground against him...?" Luneth uttered.

Shiveov grit his teeth in disgust. It was the only explanation for her disappearance. He looked to Luneth with hard, commanding eyes. 

        "...Luneth. You have to get word to Marshal Ivan. It is the only way this madness will end."

The young boy-- similar to Makar in many ways-- was shocked at the weight of his command. 

        "B-but, Shiveov, I--"

        "I know I am asking the impossible of you... and I would gladly do it myself, but I have to stay down here."

This earned a surprising interjection from Sasha, but her exclamation was ignored.

        "I know we said we could not stay but Beria is hunting you down, Sasha. If his lackies are good at finding, they will eventually uncover the secret hatch down the ladder. When that happens... you need at least one person down here. I imagine he will not bring down an entire army. I also imagine... I may not have very good odds. But one soldier is better than no soldier."

He looked up to Luneth, his eyes suddenly very grave, as if he knew the fate he was condoning himself to.

        "You have to get word to Ivan to make an emergency stop home. He cannot hope to save Leningrad if Moscow is crumbling to sticks and stones. He must return home and stop this nonsense. Please. You are the only hope." 

Luneth suddenly felt the weight on his shoulders from this request, but he nodded without waiting a second. 

        "Luneth... you understand what this could mean... we could be..."

        "I know." Luneth muttered.

        "P-please! Do not... do this for me... It is not worth the t-trouble! The danger! Y-you could lose your lives!" Sasha begged.

But... Luneth was already gone. Shiveov looked at the door where the young soldier had just stood, accepting the possibility of a one-way ticket to their deaths. His closed his eyes in prayer, hoping that Ivan got the message. Praying he came back. Praying... this would end.

        "And... you have not seen her the whole day?"

        "Not at all, sir. I would not lie to you."

Stalin looked up lazily with disinterest at the soldier, his wooden pipe sticking from his scowl. 

        "She will turn up sooner or later... Annoyances never tend to go away..."

With his lazy sentence finished, he rose his hand to shoo away the soldier who stood before him when suddenly the young soldier burst in, without first knocking. He was too much in a panic to realize his-- potentially grave-- mistake. Stalin rose an eyebrow at him-- who could be so stupid as to not follow direct orders? The soldier Stalin had been addressing before quickly scampered out, not wanting to see his comrade decimated on spot. Luneth rushed up to Stalin's desk-- another infraction.

        "Luneth..." Stalin muttered, "You should better have a good reason for this..." 

        "I do, sir! I do! Beria... he has taken [Name] hostage! She's in terrible danger!"


Luneth was appalled.

        "What do you mean, 'and'?!"

        "I mean what I mean." Stalin growled, "Had she not been messing with the order of things, she would not be in her current situation." 

        "B-but, Sir! If Sasha doesn't turn up-- which she had nothing to DO with, by the way-- she'll be killed! It's a CRIME!"

Stalin growled and stood up-- he was about the same height as the young boy, being rather short and all. He looked him into his eyes.

        "Listen here, boy. There are no crimes in MY Union. You will do good to learn that. This Union needs no change. Everything--"

        "If things do not need to change, then why do the people complain? Why do the people-- and your own soldiers-- fight for change, if things are as perfect as you claim? You are the most feared man in the Soviet Union. Of course things will work out for you where they would not for the lower classes. Your own workers are afraid of you! You have no lax, no... human qualities that I can tell. You are nothing but a paranoid lunatic!"

The fear in the young boy's eyes was all too pleasing for Stalin when he realized what he'd just said. However, like Ivan before him, he showed no signs of regret when he got over his initial realization. At least he was admirable.

        "You are but a young lad. I would hate to have to send you to Siberia... you are liable not to return. Now, as inhuman as I am, I understand people make mistakes... much like the one you just made, my boy. So, out of the extreme kindness of my heart, I am going to allow you to walk away from this now with no punishment." Stalin uttered, looking at him lazily-- his gaze was devious and untrustworthy. 

        "I will not leave until I see to it that something is done to contain Beria and free [Name]!"

        "Then... you are going to be staying in my office for quite some time. I am not going to stop Beria. I am not going to aid [Name]." 

Luneth glared at Stalin, heaving a sigh. Stalin returned his glare, the hard, unforgiving eyes of his leader boring into his soul. 

        "Then I will aid her. Beria will have to surrender when Ivan and his unit search the Kremlin from top to bottom!"

Stalin stood with haste, slamming his hands on the desk once more, "You will do no such thing! And neither will Ivan!"

        "How do you know?" Luneth challenged, "Ivan would do anything for [Name]."

        "I doubt he would dare abandon his post for a silly girl."

        "We will see, will we not?" 

With that, Luneth exited Stalin's office, breaking out into a run as he heard his commander summon guards into his quarters. He began to sweat now-- he only had a short amount of time to try and get a message out before it was the curtains for him. He ran downstairs, sliding down the elaborate rail to the main floor. It was there that he suddenly bumped into another young soldier who looked exhausted. This young soldier was holding a letter with a certain seal on it-- 'The Marshal's Seal!' Luneth thought to himself. The boy he'd ran into was none other than Makar-- a true godsend at this hour of dire need. Luneth was for certain Makar was taking that to Stalin, but the soldiers that were coming for him were still far yet. He stood up at once and looked to Makar with a panicked gaze.

        "Makar! We need to get out of here!"

        "W-what? Why? I just came back to Moscow to bring this letter to Stalin. It--"

        "Believe me when I tell you there is no time!"

At this, Luneth could hear soldiers stomping down the stairs for him. He grabbed Makar's shoulders in one last attempt to persuade him.

        "Please, Makar! There is not time to explain but it is a matter of grave urgency!"

Makar looked at Luneth, and then saw the two guards sent after him. Makar's eyes widened and he grabbed Luneth's forearm, dashing out of the Kremlin with haste. Even the young messenger boy knew Stalin was corrupt, and surely Luneth would not throw them both into potential death sentences for no good reason. Makar ran back toward the car that had taken him there now, shoving Luneth inside first. The driver glanced to Makar with confused eyes.

        "You still have the letter?" He asked.

        "There is no time to explain! We need to get away from here and fast!"

The driver wasted no time in speeding away from the Kremlin and down the road to the secret airport. Makar looked to Luneth with wild, wide eyes.

        "What are they chasing after you for?!"

        "[Name]... was captured... by Beria... Shiveov told me to get word to Ivan to save her because... if he does not... she will likely be killed. We have hidden Sasha, which is the reason for his outrage. Shiveov hides down with Sasha in waiting for Beria's men to come looking, but he sent me to fetch Ivan anyway, anyhow."

        "Sheesh! Well," He glanced back, seeing no cars following them yet, "knowing Stalin, he'll be sending guards in cars after us. And I don't know if we'll be safe even in the airport, providing we get to a plane in time..." 

        "We will have no choice now! Besides-- [Name] will be killed if Beria does not find Sasha. Ivan has to get home before the Kremlin crumbles to its knees!"

        "The airport is just ahead." The driver said now, looking in his rear view. Still no cars chased after them, much to his relief.

        "Are there any pilots who would disobey Stalin's orders?" Luneth asked.

        "Hmm... the man who flew me here probably would. Leonid. I think he would do a fine job disobeying. Especially for a good reason."

        "Good! Maybe-- hopefully-- once we are in the sky, we will be safe." 

Something told Makar that probably wouldn't be the case, but for optimisms sake he didn't say a word about it. He tried to calm himself as they approached the airport, steeling himself for whatever lay in his future. As he closed his eyes to clear his thoughts, he was suddenly shaken by the sound of glass shattering.

        "WHAT WAS THAT!?" Luneth shouted, ducking. 

Makar jerked his head back only to see two civilian cars with soldiers inside of them! The first one had a gunman sticking his head-- and gun-- out the window. He grit his teeth, hoping it didn't have to come to this. But, it had. And there was no time for regret now. He yanked a grenade from his belt, ripping the pin away and launching it out the window hearing the explosion seconds later. It was only a flash grenade, as Makar only hoped to get them off of their tails long enough to escape over one of the trails to Leningrad. He looked back once it went off, and seeing that it did its intended job, he let out a sigh of relief. 

        "We are here. Get out quickly-- I will take whatever punishment may come." 

        "What? We cannot leave you here! The only reason you would be in trouble is because of me..." Luneth sighed.

Makar looked to the driver.

        "You've a rifle, you've training. Come with us to Leningrad. I... I might be bringing you to your grave, but it might be here either way. At least, if you're in Leningrad, they won't know it was you and you'll have escaped this fate."

The driver looked back, then looked to Makar and Luneth with a grateful smile. "Death or not, I would much rather die serving than here, by their hand in a Purge."

        "Yeah-- so do we." Makar grinned, "Now, let's go get to Leonid before they get here!"

In the back of the airport, which was completely surrounded by wire and other means of a barrier, there sat a lone plane. It was a passenger plane turned into an artillery plane, big enough for five people if it was lucky. The middle-aged pilot, Leonid, sat inside reading his flight manual for the ten-billionth time. He had a service pistol strapped to his leg and a parachute on his back. His eyes fell upon the same words he'd read over and over again-- by now, he probably could have taken his plane apart and put it back together. As he read in the peaceful environment, he considered sleeping when Makar burst from the doors of the airport. His panicked yelling awoke Leonid from his hazy state. 

        "Leonid! Start the plane, quick!"

        "This is certainly more people than I came here with." He remarked, starting up the plane as told.

        "I apologize, Comrade-- No. Pilot Leonid. But there is a very dire situation at hand that the Marshal needs to control. Sending a message would take too long, and this flight will reach him within a matter of hours. I am afraid... that I have turned traitor." Luneth sighed.

Leonid looked back at him with wide eyes. Makar's heart skipped a beat-- would the pilot really not vouch for them? However the pilot immediately hit the runway, taking off as soon as he gained enough speed.

        "Goodness-- what have you done now?"

Luneth wasted no time in explaining the entire situation to Leonid, praying still he could trust him not to fly the plane toward Stalin, who would have the three passengers on a silver platter. Leonid was only shocked and appalled by the nature of Stalin and Beria, however, and took the plane into overdrive to get to Leningrad faster.

        "He what?! What kind of leader CONDONES that?!" 

        "Stalin, apparently..." Makar sighed.

The flight went silent for a bit, all of the men thinking about various things-- What would be their fates? What would happen to Sasha, Shiveov and [Name]? Would Ivan get there in enough time to save them? This was, of course, suddenly broken by something hitting the plane and bouncing off. Leonid looked around the best he could from his seat, trying to find the source.

        "What is that now?!" Luneth cried again.

        "It sounds like bullets! Someone is shooting at us!"

Makar looked to the ground, but the cloud coverage made it difficult to see a source. He looked around wildly, thinking perhaps it was a Nazi fighter jet. That's when he noticed something metallic behind him. He turned around fully, gasping as he did, indeed, see a jet.

        "The Nazis! They're behind us!" He yelled.

Leonid looked back, squinting at the plane as it got closer, matching their speed. There was something... off about that aircraft. He turned around to look where he was flying, and that's when it came to him-- that was no Nazi plane.

        "Stalin's sent our own people at us!"

        "What?!" Luneth cried out in horror.

        "That's a Soviet jet!" Leonid wailed. 

Makar glanced back, and sure enough, the jet had gotten close enough to where Makar could see a frantic pilot in Soviet uniform. He grit his teeth yet again-- he couldn't hope to throw another flash grenade back without the possibility of them being killed; he doubt it worked anyway. He looked to Leonid, worry in his eyes.

        "Can you out run them?" 

        "I doubt it. That is a jet. This is just a regular plane converted. I'm pullin' her max limits right now. But... I might be able to out maneuver them. To my knowledge, there aren't many pilots there who know how to skillfully fly that thing. Hold on to your hats!"

With that, he nose-dove toward the ground, losing the jet for a few precious seconds. Luneth felt his stomach drop as the plane suddenly sailed to lower altitudes and he felt sick. Makar was pretty unfazed, considering he'd been through drills where the pilot had to do plane maneuvers. Leonid cruised at an even altitude for a bit, looking down. 

        "Some of these roads still have Nazi troops on them. Maybe we can lure the jet into a fire from them. They'll have to return it then."

Unfortunately, most of the roads below looked abandoned with a sleeping car here or there. Makar doubt his plan worked. Suddenly he heard the jet firing at them once again, looking back with alarm as he found them at their same level. At this, Leonid let out a battle cry and rose back up again, causing Luneth to finally spill the contents of his stomach onto the floor. This, however, didn't phase anyone on the plane, as it was probably going to be destroyed upon arrival to Leningrad anyway.

        "Hopefully we'll be noticed before they shoot us down!" Makar yelled.

With a grunt, Leonid looked to him, "Kid-- my planes don't get shot down." His basic flight tricks however were soon copied by the Soviet jet, and they started to gain on them again. Leonid knew he was close to Leningrad by now, but how close was a mystery. He dove down again to get a better look at the ground-- he recognized that landscape. Leningrad wasn't far now-- they were almost above it! Leonid soared up a little, quickly tossing his parachute off.

        "There should be another parachute in the back! Get it and flee!"

        "But," Makar gasped, throwing it on and grabbing the muddled Luneth, "what about you?!"

        "I may as well just fly myself into a mountain. I doubt they lose sight of me at this point-- my fuel will only last for so long, and so will my tricks. You just go. Go where they need you most."

There was little time to say no, but as the driver leapt from the plane, Makar looked to Leonid.

        "If you don't make it... Thank you, Leonid. May your soul rest in peace." 

        "Heh-- thanks, kid. Promise to give Ivan my regards and sorrows. I'll be flying in that big blue in the sky! Now, get outta here!"

With that, Makar and Luneth jumped, opening their parachute at the right altitude and hoping that they made it down safely...

it's me(me)

sooo, update: beria is trash.
update: beria is still trash.
seriously. the dude never fucking changes. it's annoying.

sorry this chapter isn't really around ivan/[name] very much but i promise the next chapter is 100% everyone's favorite marshal. 
now we just need 2 wait another five months for it,

i dont own beria, stalin, ivan, etc....

miss a chapter? find them below!

chapter 1- here
chapter 2- here
chapter 3- here  
chapter 4- here
chapter 5- here
chapter 6- here
chapter 7- (you're here!)
chapter 8- here
final chapter- here
Add a Comment:
PrincessJo5 Featured By Owner Mar 30, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
*waits impatiently for next chapter*
Braginskey Featured By Owner Mar 30, 2016  Student General Artist

;3c all my chapters are cliffhangers hhehehe
PrincessJo5 Featured By Owner Mar 31, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Bunzabab Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2016
I feel like I'm getting way too attached to the characters in this story oh lord
I saw that this had been updated and I just kinda
Freaked out
Braginskey Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2016  Student General Artist

i got really attached to leonid and i literally introduced him and kept him for like. half a chapter. it's okay, i'll bring him back eventually, for another story.
hopefully i can get the next one out this weekend but my entire family (save myself) is sick so RIP...
glad you like the story!!
Nevermoremist Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Braginskey Featured By Owner Mar 23, 2016  Student General Artist

rip leonid
Nevermoremist Featured By Owner Mar 24, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Add a Comment:

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