The seven of them finished Lukas' interview right as Toris and Feliks walked in the door. Eduard instantly stood up and started yelling at them to make it seem like he wasn't being so friendly. Thankfully, Toris and Feliks didn't stop to listen, as Eduard was screaming about why Lukas was a good man and how adorable his little curl was. Toris barely acknowledged Eduard, making a small motion with his hand in the Estonian's direction. He went upstairs with Feliks, laughing about something. Once the Estonian was sure the two were out of earshot, he turned off the TV and ushered everyone outside. He assured everyone that he wouldn't say anything – somehow, Ludwig knew they could trust him. Raivis promised them the same thing, adding that Toris probably wouldn't be in a good mood tomorrow morning and not to mess with him.
"What fun is there in that?" Gilbert asked.
"Well, you see," Raivis started, shifting uncomfortably. "When Feliks and Toris go out, he usually ends up staying up late or getting drunk…And that can lead to some bad choices on his part. So he'll probably be very short-tempered, especially if he wakes up in the same bed as Feliks. Things go south very fast from there and there's usually a huge fight between the two. Last time Eduard almost ended up with a bullet in his chest because he asked if anyone had seen his belt. I don't want you to get caught up in their silly fights and get hurt."
"We won't," Ivan said, ruffling Raivis' hair. "Thank you, moy malen'kiy drug."
"Oh, so I don't get any special treatment for allowing you in our presence and not killing you?" Eduard huffed.
Ivan gave him a gentle shove, his usual show of affection for anyone other than Yao. "Like you deserve anything."
"I'll see you later, okay? Please, take my brother's advice. I'm really trying to get you out of here alive," Eduard said, giving them all a mock salute. With a sad goodbye, he sent them back towards the prison.
The winter winds picked up as they walked back, swirling dead leaves about in an almost ghostly manner. Ivan seemed to believe it was the work of General Winter, rambling on about how much he hated the spirit. At first no one wanted to believe that winter was really coming – snow and cold winds made for torturous roll calls, assignments to clear the snow, and numerous fights between everyone. There was just something that irritated everyone during the winter, especially Toris. He didn't do well with cold weather at all, taking that anger out on the five of them. Everyone feared the snow and the misery it brought along.
And soon their fears were confirmed; before they even reached the gate tiny white flakes were falling down from the sky.
By the time they were back in their cell block the snow was coming down steadily. As everyone prepared for bed, Ludwig stood at the barred window and watched the snowflakes fall to the ground. Ludwig secretly admired the snow's beauty, how it could turn anything into a glistening wonderland – even a horrid place like Bolesność. It truly was a sight, until footprints and blood marred the delicateness of it all. Humans and Toris just had to ruin everything. After that snow just became another problem, but for those few moments it gave Ludwig a bit of delight. He liked the memories of home it brought up, of warm blankets and taking his brother and dogs out to play in the white powder.
"What do you think Eduard meant by he's trying to get us out of here alive?" Gilbert asked, snapping Ludwig out of his happy snow fantasy.
"He probably just wants us to live. I don't really think he's as messed up as Toris and Feliks are," Ludwig answered.
"Oh, definitely not," Ivan added. "Eduard is the rebellious one of the three – well, four, if you include the little Polish brat – he doesn't want to follow anyone else. So it makes sense that he wouldn't follow the others."
"That's going to get him killed," Yao said.
"Well, aren't you just the most positive thing?" Gilbert mocked, lying down.
"What, don't you think he'll do something out of his league and get himself executed, aru?" Yao asked, looking at Ivan for support. This was how he won most of his arguments – Ivan fought strongly for Yao.
"Don't pull me into this. It's Eduard's choice with what he's going to do, not mine. You two can fight all night if you want to," Ivan yawned.
Yao crossed his arms, frustrated with Ivan's response. "Good night to you too."
As Ludwig was trying to fall asleep, his mind wandered to Holy Rome. Did he enjoy the snow too? The two seemed to be very similar, so he must've. He paused for a moment, thinking about the boy and himself. They were almost too similar. At a glance he could overlook it, but now that he was really thinking about it, it was very suspicious. Same hair, same eyes, same likes and dislikes, same name, and the same brother even. Ludwig found himself wondering if they were related somehow, sharing a brother and all. Was Holy Rome a long lost brother of his? He would have to be, if Gilbert was Holy Rome's big brother. Perhaps Ludwig and the boy were even twins, separated at birth. He'd heard of stories where twins were separated and lived nearly identical lives. What if –
No, you've gone completely crazy now, Ludwig told himself, shooting down the idea of a secret brother. What could've ever possessed him to think something like that? There's no possible way we could be twins. He seems to be much, much older than me. There has to be some little way our stories entwine, but I don't believe that it could be blood relations. And there's the whole issue of Roderich somehow being the boy's father. Dear God, if Roderich was my father, I would've killed myself already. The only real way we could be related is if we're the same person.
What a ridiculous idea.
"You heard me right, Roderich."
"No, you're just joking. Please, tell me this is some kind of sick joke of yours. You can't possibly be serious."
"What did he say? I couldn't hear," Feli asked quietly, tapping on Ludwig's shoulder.
Ludwig turned to face her, a finger pressed to his mouth as a silent reminder to keep absolutely quiet. Feli hung her head in shame, but stopped talking. The walls weren't paper thin, but Ludwig feared any noise would alert Roderich and Gilbert that there were two uninvited listeners. This was definitely a conversation the pair wasn't supposed to hear – lots of adult words and slurs were being used. There would be a severe punishment if they were caught, presumably involving Roderich's riding crop. Other secretive talks Ludwig eavesdropped on would never get him in as much trouble as this one would.
It wasn't Ludwig's fault the two were so loud. He'd just been minding his own business, thinking about the snow that awaited him tomorrow in Bolesność. Then the two had come upstairs and locked the bedroom door. Of course he was curious, so Ludwig went over to the wall and started listening. And then Feli came in, scared by all the shouting. This talk had quickly turned from a semi-polite conversation to a violent screaming match. It was quite obvious that Gilbert was drunk, his words slurring a bit and his temper much more fiery than usual. He threw things, shouted curses, smashed his fists on the wall, and even cried a bit. Roderich was trying his best to reason calmly with the man, but so far his efforts had been in vain.
"It's not a joke. I am going to leave, whether you like it or not. Find someone else to dump your problems on. Or better yet, be a real man and figure things out on your own. Oh, wait, you don't know how to step up and take care of things," Gilbert sneered, stomping his foot.
"What about our family? Don't you care about Elizabeta or Bash and Lilli, or what about little ones?" Roderich asked gently, his voice much more calming than usual. "Think about someone besides yourself for once. Ludwig is going to be in tears when he learns you're leaving. The poor boy loves you, and you're going to abandon him for your country? Can this at least wait until he's gone?"
"Listen, I have to go. I can't just sit around and watch you and Ludwig die. My country needs me."
"For what? You aren't right on the edge of a certain revolt or an impending war. Can you please stay until Ludwig leaves? What do you value more – your people or your family?"
"Do you really think Gilbert is going to leave?" Feli whispered, glancing at Ludwig.
Ludwig started to answer, but his brother burst out into laughter, hiccupping in between the fits. "Family?" He gasped, unable to stop laughing. "Roddy, darling, the only family I need is my country! I have my leader, I have my people, I have my land! Who cares about Luddy? He's just a little brat that's in my way right now. God, I wish I could get rid of him right now! He's just slowing me down."
Ludwig slowly took his ear away from the wall, just now registering his brother's words. Blinking quickly, he tried to imagine that he'd heard Gilbert wrong. But soon he was fighting back tears, biting down on the inside of his cheek. Crying in front of Feli wasn't an option. The boy wasn't going to let her see how distraught he was by his brother's words. Even though he wanted to start sobbing right now, weakness was something Gilbert taught him to never show anyone.
But Gilbert didn't even love him. Those words were all faked. All those times he'd given the boy lessons on warfare and life morals were just a show he was putting on.
Was their whole relationship just a lie? Gilbert was secretly loathing every moment with the boy, wishing he could get back to his country? Did that hate carry over from whatever time this was to the present – did the brother Ludwig knew in the present world still detest Ludwig? It seemed all wrong, so, so wrong. Ludwig knew Gilbert loved him. That was undeniable. If he'd really hated Ludwig so much, Gilbert wouldn't have let the boy practice fencing with him, or helped him get Roderich's piano out of tune, he wouldn't still be messing with Toris when the Lithuanian got mad at Ludwig to keep him safe. There was no way he'd risk getting in trouble if he despised Ludwig. He'd just had too much to drink tonight, and didn't know what he was saying. Yes, that had to be it. The Prussian didn't mean a word that he said.
Swallowing hard, Ludwig wiped at his eyes and pressed his ear back to the wall. "… To take over the world – and you two are dragging me down into your stupid empire!" Gilbert snarled. "You'll be dead in a few months at this rate, taking one of my chains off. Once Ludwig's dead, I'll be able to get through –"
"Stop it!" Roderich shouted so loudly Ludwig fell back from the wall, startled by the outburst. Feli caught him, her hands trembling in fright. They stared at the wall like it was a monster – Roderich had never screamed like that. "You stop that right now! Do you have any idea what you're saying?!"
"I know perfectly well what I'm saying! You're in my way, Ludwig's in my way. I want to leave!"
"Do you realize that he's probably listening to our conversation right now? That little boy is going off to war all alone in a few days, and here you are – his big brother, whom he's always looked up to – yelling about how much you detest him! You're such a selfish bastard, Prussia! You and your whole country!" Roderich's voice was unnaturally high as he shouted, his words harsh and accusing. "I didn't think you were this heartless! I could've sworn that you actually cared about something for once! I can't believe that you'd … You know what? Go! I don't want to see your damned face here anymore! I'll take care of Ludwig, and you go do whatever your country needs! I'll be there for him in these months where he's going to need someone the most! At least I know where my loyalties lie, you mongrel!"
"My loyalties have always been with my country! I was only here for my entertainment! This whole empire was a joke! Goodbye, Roddy. God bless your sorry ass. I hope you die a painful, bloody, agonizingly slow death! Because I'm sure as hell not going to! I'm going to go and take care of my country, while you can get yourself killed by a tiny Frenchman!"
"Good riddance! Just get out of this house immediately! Don't you dare say a word to Ludwig, you hear me? You leave that boy alone! He's done nothing wrong," Roderich started to choke up, making Gilbert laugh again.
"Go on, cry! Cry, you pathetic excuse of a man! That's the only thing you're good for! Vati himself said so!"
"So what if I show human emotions?" Roderich snapped. "That's better than being a cold hearted son of a bitch like you!"
"Vati knew you were the weakest out of all of us," Gilbert taunted. "He didn't ever love you, either, just pretending like I did with Ludwig. I'm surprised he didn't kill you when he had the chance."
There was a long pause where Ludwig couldn't hear anything. For a moment he thought Roderich had just shut up and Gilbert left, but then Roderich said, "Vati wouldn't have abandoned his family for his country. He wouldn't approve of any of this. Don't think you're so high and righteous because you care for your nation."
"Vati would approve, dumbass. Because he didn't let himself be bogged down by weaker countries. I'm saving myself, just like Vati would've. Maybe you should've paid more attention to his lessons and you would know these things."
"You need to leave, right now. If you're not out of my house by morning, I will have you killed," Roderich growled.
"Oh, so threatening. And this is your house now? Funny, I thought we all owned it. I can't wait until I see Napoléon kill your whole army. I'm going to be there, laughing my head off." And with that, Gilbert slammed the door and stomped away.
"Get out! Get out of here right now!" Roderich shouted after him.
Ludwig jumped up from his spot, throwing open the door. Feli called for him, running over to his side after she noticed that Ludwig wasn't answering. Gilbert stormed past them, pushing the boy out of his way. Ludwig started to growl an insult, but Feli grabbed his hand and shook her head no. Roderich followed close behind Gilbert, his violet eyes ablaze with anger. The Prussian tried to go into his room to grab what little personal possessions he had, but Roderich got in the way and pointed at the staircase. After he realized that Roderich wasn't moving, Gilbert rolled his eyes and went downstairs. With another loud slam of the front door, he was gone.
"Is he really leaving?" Ludwig asked, looking up at Roderich nervously.
"He better be. Don't you worry, everything will be fine." Roderich got down on his knees, looking less upset about the whole event than Ludwig expected. "Listen, we have to do a few things. Can you go find the others?"
Ludwig nodded, running off to go find them. His mission was rather easy – Basch was practicing his knife throwing skills, using a portrait of Charlemagne as a target, while Elizabeta and Lilli were trying to stop him. The three seemed a bit reluctant to come with the boy, probably since they'd heard the screaming match. But after he explained what happened, Basch dropped the knife and followed after Ludwig almost too eagerly. Elizabeta and Lilli hung back, quietly talking in a language Ludwig couldn't understand.
When he returned with the two, Roderich was tearing Gilbert's bedroom apart. Feli was trying to make him stop, tugging at the man's shirt and getting between him and whatever he was after next. But the Austrian was livid, stepping around the girl to throw more of Gilbert's clothes out on the floor. She tried pushing against his legs, only to get shoved to the ground. Ludwig ran to her side, startled to find the girl crying. He didn't know what to do to comfort her and he was afraid to touch her. After a few seconds of serious deliberation if he could gather the courage to hold her – all while Roderich was trashing the room with Basch's enthusiastic help – he finally pulled the girl into a hug.
She immediately stopped crying, looking at Ludwig with confusion in her amber eyes. "What…what are you doing?"
"I'm sorry!" Ludwig let her go, his face hot with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to upset you! I was just trying to –"
Feli threw herself back into Ludwig's arms, burying her face in his chest. Only then did Ludwig realize how strange this situation really was, with Roderich shouting curses about Gilbert and Basch laughing as they ripped apart the Prussian's bedroom. But soon that thought faded away, focusing on the sweet little girl in his arms. He felt horrible that Holy Rome was going to have to leave her to go to war. And even worse that he'd soon be dead and the poor children would never get to see each other again.
"I love you."
Ludwig snapped out of his thoughts, wondering if he'd really heard the girl say that. It could just be a trick of the mind, or –
"Roderich! Stop this, right now!" Elizabeta ordered in a tone of voice that meant she was not to be opposed.
"Please, Mr. Austria, you're scaring everyone," Lilli added, attempting a more calm approach.
"That's too bad!" He shouted back, grabbing a handful of letters from the desk and tearing them up. "Basch, grab that trunk from under the bed and start filling it with his things. I'm going to go build a fire."
"No, you're not!" Elizabeta tried to stop him, but Roderich pushed her out of the way and stormed downstairs.
Sometime later, there was a giant fire burning in their yard. Roderich and Basch were throwing all of Gilbert's things into the flames – Elizabeta and Lilli had given up on making the two stop. Ludwig watched on as his brother's books, a Prussian flag, war medals, and letters from countless kings of Prussia got eaten up by the flames. The history of Prussia was being burnt to ashes.
"Ludwig, come here," Elizabeta said quietly. Ludwig left Feli, coming over to her side. She knelt down to be at eye-level with the boy, leaning in close so no one else could hear her words.
"Just a few more weeks left," she whispered, the firelight making her green eyes sparkle.
"Until what? Holy Rome's death? My own death? I am going to live, right?"
Elizabeta shook her head, smiling. "No, dear, someone is coming for you. I can't say who exactly, but there's only three weeks left. And then we'll be our happy little family again."
"It's snowing!" Toris yelled, slamming open the cell house door. He was overly enthusiastic for this early in the morning, bearing a huge grin that Ludwig couldn't tell was faked or not. The Lithuanian seemed to have his generic sweet yet sadistic attitude this morning, if not a bit more sugary. Ludwig couldn't decide which was more unsettling; the strange manner or that sick grin of his.
"It's my favourite time of the year," he added. Two boxes were tucked under his arm with the Red Cross symbol on them – the first Red Cross packages anyone had even seen while being here. Were they actually going to get to them? Ludwig couldn't even begin to imagine what could be in those cardboard boxes of wonder.
"And I know it's your favorite time too," he beamed, twirling the keys. "Since Christmas is so close, I decided to give you an early present." He shifted the boxes a bit, making it almost painfully obvious what he was intending on giving them.
"What? Are you finally going to kill us? Who feels like dying today?" Gilbert asked, pretending to be ignorant of the boxes.
"I think all of us!" Ivan answered.
"Can I go first?" Roderich said.
"No one is going to die! I enjoy watching your suffering, remember? Anyway, do you recall how there used to be six of you?"
"Did you finally catch Basch?" Roderich asked quietly. "If you're going to kill him, I'll trade him places. And I will be much more compliant."
"No, we didn't catch him, and no, you are not going to die. Nobody is going to commit suicide either, unless you have written permission from me, Warsaw, and Vilnius," Toris said, glancing over at Roderich suspiciously.
"What will it take to get me that permission?"
"No, I am not going to give you that luxury. You're just going to have to wait for your death like everyone else."
"I'll give you all of my country."
Toris pinched the bridge of his nose, getting a bit frustrated with the Austrian's death wish. "I am not going to hand it over so easily. Anyway, we are completely off track. Your sixth person managed to get out alive. He decided to write you a letter, which has been rotting on my desk for a few weeks. And me being the absolutely generous enslaver I am, I decided to let you hear what he said." He held up an envelope that had a rather large bloodstain on the corner. Did they even want to know whose blood it was?
Toris tore the envelope open, removing the letter. Unfolding it, he started to read it to them out loud.
"Dear Ludwig, Gilbert, Ivan, Yao, and the man who is so pathetically lazy he gets tired walking to the mailbox," Toris started. "Huh, I wonder who that last one is."
Roderich glared at the letter as if it were Basch himself. Basch knew what words to use to get on Roderich's nerves, and it didn't help that Toris was reading them.
"If you are reading this, either you've escaped or my friend did his job. I'm assuming the latter, as Roderich wouldn't make it that far."
Roderich crossed his arms like a child, quietly cursing the Swiss.
"I finally made it home. I'm with Lilli now, so don't worry about her. The rest who were with her are safe too, although slightly irritated with me. Especially the younger one. I think she wants me dead, or perhaps she wants all of us dead. There have been a few incidences with weapons here. Oh, my, the looks she gives me across the dining table. Francis tries to keep her calm, but that French charm doesn't work on demons. You'd think her temper worse than mine. Ask Gilbert who they are." Toris turned to him, tapping his foot expectantly. "Who are these people, Gilbert?"
"Luddy's dogs – Blackie, Berlitz, and Aster," he lied, looking over at Ivan.
Ivan wasn't the best at hiding his enthusiasm. He had a large grin and twinkling eyes, the way he always was when he spoke of his siblings. Every night he asked Yao how he thought his sisters were doing, to which Yao replied, "Fine. Now, go to sleep." The Russian was always worried about his sisters, talking to Yao late into the nights about them. Sometimes he was laughing about the two, sometimes he was in tears. But now all the fear could go away, as he knew they were okay. Even though Basch said that Natalia was trying to kill everyone.
"Sorry no one else could escape. I couldn't turn back to help you, as I had about forty guns aimed at me. I would like to say that the guard dogs are a bit slow in the head. Although, one did get hold of my leg, so bravo to that one mangy mutt for giving me a limp. I won't bother you with the long story of how I got back to my country, other than the fact that Francis was a really big help. Surprising, considering the Frenchman's normal behavior. Oh, and tell Toris I was shot the arm. Yes, it did hurt very badly but I did not cry or scream. That ought to satisfy the sick bastard." Toris smiled sweetly at the letter, pleased with Basch's wound.
"And if Toris is reading this to you as I suspect he will – my dearest little bitch, I hope you know that the world knows what you're doing. As I write this letter, Francis is currently on the phone with his boss making sure that the alliance is ended. Francis isn't one to keep quiet. I've told him everything and it won't be long before he starts talking. You're going to fall soon, and it will not be clean. According to French authorities, when they get to you they have orders to execute immediately without trial. Start counting your days, darling, because you're going to wake up dead soon. Who knows, I might join them for the death sentence.
"But, if by some miracle my brothers have escaped and would like to find us, talk to Mr. I-marry-people-to-solve-problems. Ask him about 1925. Oh, I guess Ivan and Yao can come too, if they want. I don't really care. The house is rather small though, so don't try and bring any friends.
"With absolutely no love,
"Basch Zwingli."
Toris took a final look over the letter and then tore it into pieces. He tore the pieces into smaller bits, sprinkling them on the floor like confetti.
"Now, who knows what happened in 1925? Roderich does! Give me an answer," he said, trying to calm down.
Roderich looked genuinely confused, thin eyebrows knitted together. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Really?" Toris snapped. "Because Basch here was sure you did."
"I don't know anything about 1925! Let's see," Roderich said, pushing up his glasses. "My marriage had fallen apart a few years prior, I was lonely, very depressed, a bit of an alcoholic, and angry with everyone. Is that what you want?"
"God, you're just hilarious!" Toris laughed sarcastically, leaning back against the wall. "Listen, you brat, this is my one clue to Natalia. I know you're lying directly to my face!" He grabbed his whip, drawing closer to Roderich.
"Face it, Toris; the girl never wants to see you again! Hell, if I was Natalia, I wouldn't want to see a man responsible for the deaths of thousands of people. Who in their right mind would? Well, save for Ivan," Gilbert shouted, trying to distract Toris. It worked, as he was now after the loud Prussian.
"She was just angry with me." Toris was on the edge of completely snapping now, his eyes full of resentment. He knew they were saying the truth, but he was trying to pretend that it wasn't so. Some little part of him still thought Natalia could love him, even after the years of murder and betrayal. That little part wanted to think he was still a good person.
"I'm sure my precious sister will want to destroy you after she finds out what you did to me. She loves me much more than she ever will love you," Ivan smirked.
Toris took a deep breath, realizing he was getting nowhere fast with this. "You know what, fine. If no one wants to tell me where she is, I can't stop you. If you don't want to confess, that's absolutely fine." Toris looked at Roderich, furious. "All of you will have the pleasure of shoveling every path in and out of this camp." He turned to leave, stomping as he went.
"We can't leave unless you unlock the cells, smartass!" Gilbert called after him.
The Lithuanian turned on his heels, stomping back inside. He unlocked all the cell doors, muttering curses and threats under his breath.
"So do we get these Red Cross packages or not?" Ivan asked, taking one out from under Toris' arm. He examined it for a moment before starting to open the box.
"Give that back!" Toris snarled, tearing it out of Ivan's hands. "No, you don't. These are for the human prisoners. You all seem to be getting along just fine! If you have the strength to lie and make light of your situations, you don't really need any assistance. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go sort things out with an infuriating man."
"So I guess your date with Feliks went pretty bad, huh?" Gilbert said suggestively, raising an eyebrow.
Toris took a sharp breath in, clenching his fist so tightly his knuckles turned white. "How the hell do you know about that?"
"Eduard was yelling at us when you two came in," Ivan answered, earning himself a vicious glare from Toris.
"Did you two get it on?" Gilbert asked.
"I can't stand this anymore! If I could kill you all right now I wouldn't hesitate!" Toris snarled, pushing the Prussian out of his way.
He turned to leave for a second time, pausing just barely outside of the door. Ludwig thought he was going to turn around and scream about something else or possibly kill someone.
"Oh, and by the way, I'll allow you to send one letter back to Basch. I promise that it'll get to him, via a man's coffin. Tell him that I don't like being referred to as a bitch and that the man carrying that letter was shot down a few kilometers from here. He was our newest radium test subject. Might I add that he didn't last very long? But he did have a very nice suit. Went by the name of Francis or something like that."
In a bunker hidden deep beneath Saint Petersburg a Russian general points to a large dot on a map and tries to explain his plan. The meeting has been going on for several hours now, everyone getting increasingly frustrated and tired. No one can decide on the best strategy, so they end up arguing and shouting at each other. There is only one clear objective of their mission, meaning the plans can go a variety of ways. They've heard what seems like thousands of ideas already with only a few promising ones.
Operation Circus is going to be a disaster. There is no way they'll be able to get through the plan without an immense amount of casualties. It's just impossible.
It was a request from their president in the darkest moments of the war. Poland-Lithuania invading from both the east and from Finland, constant air raids, and numerous deserters vanishing from their ranks in the night, the whole war was going downhill for the giant nation. Nothing made sense anymore – Russia had the power, the men, the will to fight, even the weather was working with them this year. So why was Poland-Lithuania gaining so much land?
Their president ordered a lieutenant general from the front lines, a rather cunning and ambitious young man by the name of Volkov. Volkov was flattered that the president would call for him – just a simple boy from a farm who really had no idea how he ever got to the rank of lieutenant general meeting with the leader of Russia. After the formal welcoming, the president explained the failures of their country. Although, Volkov didn't need to hear any more of them, as he saw them firsthand. He went on to say that he believed the shortcomings were because they were missing a crucial element to their country.
Ivan Braginsky.
Everyone in Russia knew that generic name by now; but not for the reasons Ivan would've liked. Before he was just a nameless face in the crowd, a bit tall, a nose slightly too big, nothing out of the ordinary, just your stereotypical Russian. Only now, instead of blending in, everyone knew him as a humiliation to his country. He gave up himself to save the enemy. Ukraine and Belarus were worthless to Russia, and yet Ivan insisted on letting himself be captured so they could be safe. In a war where countries that were "siblings" were out to annihilate each other, Ivan was expected to do the same. What a disgrace.
But the president believed that this humiliation was what was making their country fall. He thought that Ivan had some unseen importance, a sort of force that kept their country going. All they had to do to win the war would be retrieve Ivan, put him back in Moscow, and they would have instant success. Why their president thought victory came with instructions and ingredients like a cake mix baffled Volkov. Did the leader of their country really know nothing of warfare? More importantly, was Volkov really expected to follow these orders and put thousands of men in danger?
The plan was dubbed Operation Circus, since the president had compared Ivan to a circus bear – giant and terrifying on the outside, scared and easy to manipulate on the inside. Circus was quite the ironic name, since trying to pull this catastrophe of a plan together would be like trying to run a circus. Volkov was given the codename Ringleader, told to make sure everything ran smoothly.
Volkov was given the details of the mission, and then sent to Saint Petersburg to organize out a plan. The basic outline was all there – get to Szczecin, break into the camp, take Ivan, and then send him back to Moscow on a plane Volkov would somehow have to get into the enemy's country. To the president it seemed like a simple task. But to Volkov it was literally going to be hell. Poland-Lithuania wasn't going to let him waltz in there and take a valuable prisoner and get away scot-free. How many people were going to die in the days to come for this absurd plan? Was Ivan even that important? There were thousands of people named Ivan in this vast country – why didn't they just find another one, claim him as the personification of Russia, and move on with their war?
"Sir, what do you think of this one?"
Volkov looked up from his outline, realizing he had no clue what the plan was. He'd been nearly asleep, barely registering any of the man's words. What was he supposed to answer? Glancing at the map, Volkov tried to get a general idea of what was to happen. The red line came in through the Baltic Sea, the little plane coming from Moscow, and the blue line was pushed back by more of the red line. At a glance, it looked like the plan could actually work. But what was Volkov going to do if the plan was horrible and he agreed to it? Then when everyone was dead they could blame the man in charge because he'd been asleep. Damn it, he should've been paying attention! That was one of his only shortcomings; he had trouble focusing on something for more than a few minutes. Unless he was very enthusiastic about something, he couldn't sit still and listen for several hours.
"Uh…It looks like it could succeed?" Volkov answered warily, pressing down on the back of his neck. It was a habit of his when he got nervous – so quite often one could find his fingers there. He liked to imagine that it calmed him down, but in reality it only helped the anxiety grow. And even worse, others could easily tell when he was anxious.
"It seems like the best plan yet," another officer added, saving Volkov from trying to come up with any more praise. Volkov silently thanked the man, promising to pay better attention.
But by the next plan, he was back to being half asleep. He could barely keep his eyes open to watch the tiny colonel with the circle rimmed glasses start to explain his idea. Volkov was more interested in the man's glasses, wondering why he'd chosen such silly frames. They didn't seem right on the small colonel, making him look like one of those old paintings. Perhaps he was trying to look like one.
Then the colonel caught Volkov's evasive attention.
"That's it!" Volkov said a bit too excitedly, standing up so quickly his chair fell. The man with the circle glasses yelped, looking at the lieutenant general in fear. Everyone else seemed quite startled by his loud outburst, staring at Volkov.
The Russian felt his face burn, his hand returning to the back of his neck. "That's the plan that'll get us to Ivan with the least causalities. This is definitely the best plan out of the lot to reduce fatalities, although it'll move a bit slower than some of the others."
"Oh, well," the short colonel squeaked. "I'm glad you think so."
"How long do you think it'll take us to execute the plan?" Volkov said.
The colonel thought for a moment. "Around three weeks."
"Good, good! What's your name?" Volkov asked, picking up his chair.
"Colonel Sevastian Viktorovich Sokoloff, sir."
"Well then, Sevastian Viktorovich, you're going to be at my side until we're through with this operation. I don't want you working on anything else besides this plan."
Operation Circus was going to be a success.
A/N: Hello! After a week spent drowning in homework, failing spelling bees, and stuffing envelopes (mind numbing dull work, don't ever do it.) I am here again. I have risen from the depths of hell known as school! But seriously, you all need to stay in school. It's good for you.
I am so sorry for writing Roderich like a crazy ex-girlfriend, hence the title of this chapter. He's just that... well... dramatic. I know it's a little out of character, but, hell, he's a grown Austria he can do what he wants!
Translation Time!
Volkov - his name means wolf, which I thought was rather suiting.
moy malen'kiy drug - my little friend.
Thank you to Qeani, animenerd1114, the guest reviewer Reader-chan, and my faithful reviewers Seele Esser Deutsch and Comix and Co! Excuse me for being repetitive, but you all make my morning/night/whatever time of day I see you're reading my story. I love all of you!
Also, I saw two bald eagles today. Those things are cool as shit, all American and stuff. Freedom!
See you next chapter!
(Please tell me if my Russian name writing is wrong, I'm a very worried writer here.)