Moscow, Russian SSR - 01:00

Anya Braginskaya sat with her brother Ivan within Stalin's office along with Vyacheslav Molotov, the Commissar of Foreign Affairs, and Laverenti Beria the Head of the People's Committee of Internal Affairs or NKVD. The four of them had been discussing war planning with their boss late into the night when a messenger knocked on the door to deliver an "urgent message from Minsk". Accepting the envelope from the young man, Stalin opened it and began to read it- to himself. Now, while the Georgian looked over the report which had been brought to his attention, Anya could not help feeling the tension which filling the room;as well as wonder what could have been so important that the Kremlin officers had allowed an interruption of this meeting to send it through. Swallowing Anya's eyes flicked quickly at the faces of those present, trying to assess who knew more about what was happening here and who was left in the dark like her. As usual Molotov's expression was unreadable, nothing more than a perfect mask of calm and neutrality; a skill which he was most famous for and one which did him well during negotiations of power and influence. Beria on the other hand could not seem to sit still, fidgeting and blinking as he waited for his compatriot to start speaking, much like a hungry crow waiting for the perfect moment to pounce upon a morsel of food which was just out of reach; or so Anya thought.

Finally her gaze fell upon her brother Ivan. As expected his expression was set with a mask of total confidence, strength, and a willingness to fight for his life and freedom; and yet behind the mask Anya could see the cracks he tried so hard to hide. The start of this war, combined with the hardships of the ones which had come before in the past 27 years was starting to wear him thin. Not only that, Ivan had been on the "wrong" side of the Revolution and the Civil War which followed; thus causing him to not only lose two wars but also his Tsar, his Empire, and his Imperial way of life. In the end, it was only for the simple fact that Ivan was an immortal who was needed for the Russian Socialist Republic that he was allowed to live by Lenin, Trotsky, and their inner circle. Swallowing Anya turned herself away from her brother, away from the memories which had begun to return to her mind. There was no other way. She assured herself, I was on the right side of history, he was not. That is all there is to it. Yet somehow deep inside her mind she felt a twinge of guilt and even fear. Fear that she would never be forgiven for supporting the Revolution and siding with the Red Bolsheviks during the Civil War, and maybe just maybe because the crimes which had followed so soon would never be washed away from her hands. Just then the sound of her Boss clearing his throat snapped the thoughts from Anya's mind.

-xxxx-

Watching his boss as his eyes flicked across the paper Ivan could only imagine what he was thinking especially since such information could be the difference between survival and death for the young Soviet State. Inhaling deeply Ivan allowed himself a quiet sigh, The young Soviet State, he thought, Why should I even care about it? In truth, he didn't, not exactly. In the end the only reason why he, after being captured and abused by the Bolshevik leadership, allowed himself to care for it was because his people lived within it. All the peoples of the Russian Empire now lived within the USSR, and being the strongest and largest of the personifications he could not allow himself to turn his back on them. Even so, warming up to this government had taken a lot of work, the death of Lenin and Trotsky had helped somewhat. The arrests and removal of the original Bolshevik revolutionaries which followed helped even more. After all these men had been criminals who had destroyed his monarchy and society, he would never feel any sympathy for them. Unfortunately though they were not the only ones purged and, as it tends to be in times of upheaval, the innocent suffer more so than the guilty. Even so, Ivan had no other choice, he was needed here and it was here that he would stay. As for Stalin, well the man was a double edged sword. On the one hand he instigated the destruction of the criminal revolutionaries and moved the country away from the insane idea of World Revolution, it was also under his hand that his country began to grow in industry and power. Life was slowly getting better, at least when compared to the insane destruction of the 1920s. Yet, the human cost was also high and the total cost of all what had been happening since 1917 had been staggering and Ivan was sure he would go insane if he truly faced it so soon. Now, with this new war, the casualties would continue to rise until the newest enemy was defeated. Then maybe we can live in peace. Sighing again Ivan pushed such thoughts out of his mind. He could not live in the past. What was done is done and he had no other choice but to make the best of it whether he liked it or not.

Done reading Stalin carefully folded the paper and placed it on the desk. Leaning back in his chair the Georgian slowly took up his pipe and began to fill it with tobacco, "It seems that there has been a horrific miscalculation which has endangered the entire Western Front Line. Though I can not imagine how it is possible..." he said, pausing to look over those present. "The thrust of the enemy's forces are ripping through Belarus, yet a majority of our forces are stationed on the Ukraine region." he shook his head and lit his pipe. The pause allowed Ivan to look over the people within the room and another flare up of rage almost burst forth from him. How is it possible indeed! If this continued it would be 1812 all over again, with the enemy at the gates of Moscow, and this time around the Government was not going to be safe in St. Petersburg. Leningrad Ivan reminded himself for the hundredth time, It's called Leningrad now. Glancing at his sister, Ivan was surprised to see that she had gone totally pale, and expression of shock upon her features. "Comrade Stalin, there must be some mistake." she said softly, "All of our strategic planning viewed the Ukraine as the most valuable territory for the Fascists to attack. Its fertile soil and farmland is much too tempting to ignore."

"Even so," Ivan spoke up, interrupting Anya, "information about the German thrust should have been relayed to the Central Command. Corrections should have been made." he balled his hands into fists with frustration, cursing the chaos gripping the country.

Glancing at him Anya swallowed, "Brother, you know that communications are unfortunately limited."

"You mean non-existent." Molotov said interrupting the Russian woman, who nodded nervously, "Yes, practically nonexistent. We can only assume that sabotage has been responsible for its collapse."

Hearing this Beria cleared his throat, "Comrade Stalin, the People's Committee of Internal Affairs has been on a relentless hunt for traitors and saboteurs. This crime will not go unpunished!" he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I shall order the agents to work harder-"

Hearing this Stalin silenced him with a raise of his arm, "Oh do sit down Lavrenti. The last thing we need is your men blustering about." he turned away from the embarrassed chief of the Secret Police and faced the large map of the Soviet Union which hung upon a wall of his office. Puffing silently he inhaled deeply before standing to go to it. "What the enemy wants is obvious..." he muttered. more to himself than anyone else. Anya shrugged, "Anything is possible Comrade Stalin. It should be assumed that Minsk will be taken, though from there the invading troops might go anywhere."

Stalin glanced at her, frowning slightly, "Do not be an idiot Anna Rurikovna." he said "It's obvious that their goal is to take our capital city, hoping we'll capitulate to save it." he traced a path from Minsk to Moscow with his pipe, "The Fascists don't have an imagination." he continued, "It is what they did to the Dutch, the French, and what they are still attempting to do to the English. But-" he turned and pointed the end of his pipe at the four of them, "That strategy will not work on us" he continued, falling into his old habit of lecturing while he explained his thoughts, "Because we will not even allow them to take Minsk. How long will it take to make full contact with the Western Front HQ?"

"Well, that would depend on the situation with our radio and telegraphs." Anya answer before Ivan had a chance to speak, "And with saboteurs working to destroy the lines of communications, especially on the territory of the Ukraine, much harm can be done."

Listening Stalin puffed on his pipe his sharp eyes watching her intently, the look in them making it obvious to Anya that he was calculating how much harm might eventually come about if communications are not put up once more.

Shaking his head the Georgian man went back to his desk and sat back into his chair, "Very well," he said slowly, "What can be done to...recover the situation?"

"It seems to me," Molotov spoke up, "That it would be wise for us here to actually go to see the Central Command HQ, maybe they have some new information which we can use to discuss what steps need to be made."

"I second that suggestion." Anya said, "It is better than sitting here and becoming frustrated while the enemy continues to ravage the peoples and workers of the Soviet State." Frowning Stalin leaned back in his chair and slowly ran his hands over his face, rubbing away the tension as best he could. "Have either one of you contacted your family?" he asked after a moment, sounding tired.

"We have unfortunately been unable to reach Nikolai or Natalia in Belarus, The same is true for Yekaterina and Konstantine on the Ukraine" Anya explained, "Thus I am not sure what has become with them."

Taking a deep breath Ivan did his best to hold back his anger for that very reason. Not knowing what was happening to his siblings was actually starting to drive him up the wall and he knew that if he didn't just bury his emotions in his work he would find it impossible to continue as efficiently as needed.

"Very well." Stalin finally said, "Let us not waste anymore time." he said standing and moving out of his office, followed quickly by the others.

-xxxx-

"The situation at the Front is a difficult one to say the least Comrade Stalin. At the moment, since we have learned of the true measure of attack we have been preparing orders to transfer as many troops from the North-Western and South-Western fronts to fill in the gaps of the Central-Western front."

Watching Marshal Tymoshenko Ivan could not help but feel the last bits of confidence wasting away. It seemed, very much that these so called "Army Men" had done almost nothing to prepare for any war. Glancing at Stalin though, he could also see that this anger was very much brewing within the man's temper.

"And do you feel that such an action would be enough to break the rush of the German forces?" his sister asked, looking over the large map showing the positions and strength of the two armies battling at the front. "Also, what will happen to Leningrad if we take troops from the North."

Glancing at the man Tymoshenko swallowed, "Well, we all feel that it would be more catastrophic to allow the enemy to reach the Capital, therefore we will risk Leningrad for its defense." Anya frowned, but stayed silent. Ivan, also holding his tongue, left the meeting room and eventually the building. Carefully removing a packet of cigarettes from the inner pocket of his military trench coat he attempted to open it with shaking hands; unfortunately he ended up dropping them. Cursing Ivan picked up the pack and swiftly removing a cigarette, suddenly a match appeared for him. Lighting the paper tube Ivan nodded to the security guard who was stationed near Stalin's car. "I take it the situation is quite terrible?" the man asked.

Ivan simply nodded.

"Hm." The man sighed tilting his head back to look up at the night sky, "That's alright." he said, his voice surprisingly calm, "We'll pull through. We always pull through. That is our gift." He chuckled and offered Ivan his hand, "Victor Andreevich Sokolov"

Glancing at it before clasping his hand Ivan shook it, "Ivan Rurikovich Braginsky" he said introducing himself, though the other man laughed, "I know who you are Comrade Braginsky."

Ivan shrugged as inhaled the nicotine laced smoke, "Well, I'm meeting you for the first time."

Just then the double doors to the Military HQ burst open and Stalin stepped out, followed a moment later by Ivan's sister who seemed quite upset.. Seeing the head of state Victor opened the car's door and saluted, "Where to Comrade Stalin?" he asked the Georgian.

Sighing the other man shook his head, "I am tired. Take me to my dacha."

"Right away sir." Victor closed the car's door and smartly made his way to the front of the car.

Watching in silence as the black car moved away from them Ivan turned to his sister, "What are we doing now?"

As a reply Anya shrugged and shook her head, "I don't know."

Frowning Ivan faced her fully, "What do you mean?" he asked, "What were the orders?"

"There were none." Anya replied, curtly, she snatched the cigarette from Ivan's lips and inhaled deeply. "He simply said...'this is the end.' and the left the meeting." She took another long drag before offering the smoke back to her brother who refused it. "We're going to have to figure this out on our own I think." she said, crushing the cigarette under her boot.

Ivan swallowed hard as he looked at the direction Stalin's car had taken, "Well then...we might as well forget about sleep for the time being."