Generational Gap
17 SEP 1999 – 0941
General Natalia Alexeyeva
Russian Ground Forces
Volgograd, Russian Federation
The General could feel herself nearing a breaking point, so did her advisers. At the insistence – the begging, really – of her two Colonels, she decided to take a holiday back to her hometown of Volgograd.
It would be only for a few days, at most, and then back to her men in Urzikstan. It will be nice to see her husband again, Natalia smiled. Then it turned into a scowl when she remembered that she'd have to see her mother again.
The apartment complex she, Farah and Hadir were in managed to somewhat survive the German bombings at the start of the battle for Stalingrad. This was followed by the decades since, including stagnation, the dissolution of the USSR, and the turbulent 90s.
Natalia's heart was pacing as she and the children reached the door to her old apartment, on the fourth floor. Her mother didn't know she was visiting.
She knelt down to the children, and placed her hands on their shoulders.
"When we go inside, please go straight to the couch." Natalia looked over her shoulder towards the door, a concerned look on her face. "The woman inside can be mean sometimes and I don't want her getting mad at you for any reason." She turned her view back to the children.
Farah and Hadir both silently nodded.
Sighing, Natalia stood up and placed her key in the door, slowly opening it.
The apartment was small, to say the least. It was how Natalia remembered it.
The living room and kitchen were next to each other without a wall. The television was an old CRT screen from a long time ago, propped up against the wall with the couch not too far from it. There was a study table at the end of the living room, with black and white photos of Natalia and her family on the walls.
At the other end was the kitchen, where Natalia noticed a much older woman with white hair standing in front of the stove, boiling water in the kettle. It seemed as if the trio were invisible.
Natalia frowned at the woman before ushering the children to the couch and quickly putting in a video cassette into the VHS. A cartoon about a wolf and a hare soon began playing. She then walked over to the kitchen, standing behind the dinner table. Her scowl on full display.
"Something must be wrong, Natalia Vladimirovna," the woman said, not looking away from the kettle. "For you to just enter your home without saying hello to your mother and quickly putting on your favorite cartoon."
Natalia's scowl deepened. "Hello, mother," she deadpanned to the older woman.
Polina Yermakova (nee. Petrova) still had her back to the General as she poured herself some tea with a heavy sigh. Shaking her head, she turned to Natalia, a frown on her wrinkled face. Lady Nightingale was barely recognizable from the propaganda posters of the Great Patriotic War.
"Daughter," she replied. She sipped her tea before walking over to the dinner table between them. "I'm surprised you're back so soon." She sat down. "Did the terrorists in Urzikstan finally see things your way?"
Natalia said nothing as she sat down at the table as well. "Where's Igor?"
"Visiting Liya for the anniversary."
Natalia looked away, anger growing inside her. Anger pointed at herself, for she had forgotten.
"Your husband will be back," Polina added, taking another sip. "He's far stronger than I give him credit for." She then hummed to herself. "Still a weak man."
"Shut up, mother!" Natalia steadily raised her voice. She then took a deep breath and clenched her fists. "You never liked him, always telling I could have done better."
Polina was barely moved by this, instead taking another sip.
Natalia, from the corner of her eye, saw Farah slipping off the couch.
"Farah, wait!" Hadir hissed at his sister.
Farah was already walking to the table and silently sat adjacent to Natalia. Hadir reluctantly followed her, sitting across.
Natalia turned to Farah, and made a half-smile. "You don't have to be up here," she said, her voice soft as she petted the little girl on the head.
Polina shrugged before sitting back in her chair. "So," she said, sipping her tea, "what brings you all the way back home from that shithole country?"
"Language, mother," Natalia retorted before sighing. "To answer your question, I screwed up."
Polina's eyebrow was raised. "Again?"
Farah watched Natalia stand up, walk over to the cupboard and take out a glass cup. The General then walked over to the refrigerator before opening it.
"You still keep the vodka cold?"
"A preference in my old age," Polina replied, sipping her tea again.
Natalia returned to the table, and poured herself the alcohol.
"So you make a grave mistake, and then what," Polina continued, "you come to me for reassurance?"
Natalia angrily gulped down the vodka. She could tell that Farah wanted to say something, but was glad she said nothing. She didn't think the child would understand.
Polina frowned. "I saw on the television about that highway that got bombed. The whole world is condemning you for it, you know." She took another sip. "Is that why you came back? Are you so overwhelmed with guilt and that mommy dearest can cheer you up?"
Farah was simply looking at the two women, seemingly confused.
"We had those terrorists in our sights, we had them." Natalia poured herself another round. "And we had to decide if we let them go and risk more attacks, or go in and risk collateral damage."
Polina shrugged. "Sounded like you had a difficult decision to make." She scratched the stain off her cup. "A peril of being a leader."
"It was worse than the gas attack," Natalia remarked. "At least that was because I had rouge commanders who wouldn't listen to me." She took another gulp of her drink. "This was my doing." Natalia dropped her head on the table, the look of misery on her face. "The bodies, the smell of burned flesh. I did that!"
Polina raised an eyebrow. "So you're going to just give up? Let that little Napoleon, Barkov, take over for you?"
Natalia didn't answer. She didn't have one. She just knew her mother had a point. After all that political maneuvering to get the idiot replaced, it would be stupid to walk away.
Polina set down her cup before standing up and walking over to the living room. She turned off the television before picking something up from the desk.
"When the Germans entered this city, in 1942, they rounded up my father and fellow neighbors, and put them up against the wall. Do you remember that story, Natalia?"
Natalia nodded. "I do." She saw that Farah was listening intently while Hadir rested on his knuckle, seemingly disinterested. She didn't blame the boy. Who wanted to hear glory stories from people who were constantly making your life a living hell?
"I was in our apartment, rifle at the ready, looking down at them." Polina began to walk back, holding a picture frame in her hands. "I opened fire at the nearest fascist, killing him on the spot." The older woman sniffed when she returned to the table. "My actions got my father killed because, as soon as I fired, they all panicked and began shooting the civilians." She handed the picture to Natalia.
Farah got off her chair and stood over the General, looking at the picture itself. Hadir did the same.
In the photograph was a much younger Polina holding a rifle, standing side by side with three other men. It was dated May, 1945.
"My father died in my arms because of what I did," Polina continued. "Your Uncle, Natalia, a trainer of partisans, would later sacrifice himself to give me the opportunity to run, so that I could keep fighting."
Natalia nodded, a tear forming in her eye.
"I had regrets, sometimes wishing I would've stayed as a medic and help the wounded. God knows I could've saved so many lives." Polina sighed. "Yet, had I decided to do that, and just roll over and accept the losses, I never would've met these men, and been able to make a major difference in the war. I made sure that the loss of my father and brother would not have been in vain."
Natalia remembered this photo. It was taken of the Task Force formed towards the end of the war, comprising of members from various countries. She had met the team leader, Arthur Kingsley, only once in England. She had been smitten with British culture ever since, seeing the man as an inspiration to learn English and join the military as GRU Spetsnaz.
"You made a lot of mistakes too, Natalia Vladimirovna," Polina continued. "Abandoning school to be a spy in Chile during the coup, running away from your role as a teacher to fight in Afghanistan." Polina's frown deepened. "And then there was that 'Perseus' business."
Instinctively, Natalia suddenly began brushing the left side of her head with her fingers. The bullet grazing was still there burrowed in her temple.
"But you made it each time, always accomplishing your mission because at the end of the day, you're a lone sniper, not some commander of a whole army." Polina stirred her tea. "You're better at aiming with precision, moving methodically, dancing around the innocent to conquer the enemy, than leading whole swaths of men." She then smiled. "It's good to know my lessons haven't been forgotten." She turned in her seat to look up at the family heirloom hanging above the kitchen. It was an old bolt-action Three-Line rifle, the Mosin-Nagant. "Your grandfather would be proud."
Natalia could see Hadir admiring the weapon from afar, his look of amazement and wonder obvious. Who wouldn't, Natalia thought. That weapon had a lot of history. She then shook her head before taking another swig of the vodka. "Then he'd see how I've failed three times as a commander, and become just as disappointed as you."
Polina turned back to her daughter. "Only because you're not a leader, Natalia," she retorted. "You're a soldier, an excellent markswoman and commando. You cannot apply your own tactics to a whole army." She poured herself more tea. "And you can't seem to shake that naivety you've had since you were a child, thinking that rebuilding Urzikstan will somehow undo what you have done." She then looked over to the two children sitting at her table. "Speaking of which."
Farah was looking down at the table, keeping her hands between her legs. Hadir simply sat there, staring at the old woman, arms crossed.
Natalia glanced at the children before back to her mother. "Don't worry about them."
Polina squinted her eyes at the two, examining every detail about the two. "Who are they, and why are they in my home?" The tone was both of genuine curiosity, and scornfulness.
Natalia sighed and closed her eyes as she gripped the table. "They are my children."
Polina wasn't impressed. "Did you kill their parents?"
Natalia's expression turned into disgust. "My god, mother!"
Polina shrugged. "They're not your children, Natalia." She set down her cup and pointed at her adult-child. "Liya is your daughter, and she is dead. Killed by the very people these 'children' belong to. You shouldn't be helping them, not at all!"
The room suddenly went silent, with only the outside noise giving any semblance of ambiance.
Polina set down her hands and closed her eyes before taking a deep breath. "I am sorry," she nearly whispered, shaking her head.
Natalia said nothing at first, instead downing another glass of vodka before standing up. "I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person that I'm doing okay, all things considered." Natalia placed her hands on the shoulders of both Farah and Hadir.
Farah and Hadir also got out of their seats and joined the General. The three began walking towards the door, with Natalia holding Farah's hand.
"You're not going to wait for Igor?" Polina asked, her expression stoic. "He'd want to see you."
Natalia stopped in her tracks. She felt her hand tightening its grip on Farah's.
"I'll visit him back in Saint Petersburg, on my time. I can't be here right now." Natalia then continued on. "Sometimes I keep asking myself why do I still try to talk to you, since you clearly are more interested in treating me like some nuisance." Natalia gritted her teeth as she opened the door and let the kids out. "Unlike you, at least I wanted to have a child." She then turned her back on Polina. "Some war hero you turned out to be."
Just as she began to close the door, Natalia stopped and took one more look at Polina. "No matter what, I still love you, mother."
The general then gently closed the door behind her, leaving Lady Nightingale sitting at the kitchen table, alone.
Outside the apartment, Natalia saw that Farah had the look of pity on her face.
"Are you okay?" The girl asked.
Natalia sighed and shook her head. "I'm not," she replied, "but I'll be okay."
"What was the point of taking us here?" Hadir asked.
"My mother, for all her faults, knows how to keep people from giving up."
"But why can't your army go home?" Farah asked. "Why can't you just leave us alone?"
Natalia sighed, before hanging her head. "We're trying to help your country fight off the terrorists that killed so many Russians, including my daughter." She turned to the children. "I can't walk away from my duty, and I won't walk away from you. Not after what I did."
Hadir scoffed. "You say that you're trying to help," he protested, "but everything you do hurts people."
"You're right!" Natalia concurred, a sad look on her face. "But my men are not monsters who enjoy harming others."
"Liar!" Hadir retorted. "Your men executed people in our town, they killed our father!"
Natalia said nothing, only turning back to the city, looking at the world around her.
"Everything you do, hurts us!"
Natalia sniffed as she kept silent. The boy was right, after all. It began to seem that no matter what she did, it always backfired.
No one said anything more for the next several minutes, allowing the General to think.
Suddenly an idea came to mind.
"Partisans," Natalia whispered.
Farah and Hadir looked to her.
"What?" The girl asked.
Natalia raised her head and looked up into the sky. "My uncle trained civilians to be able to fight back the Germans."
"So?" Hadir asked.
Natalia looked back down to Farah and her brother. "What if I could make my army go home."
Farah became curious, but said nothing.
"The reason my army is in your country is because we are hunting for those responsible for the attacks in Russia. As soon as we find them, we leave."
"But you're killing innocent people!" Hadir pointed out.
Natalia placed her hands in her pockets and began pacing back and forth. "What if my army didn't involve themselves so much? What if we had your people look for the terrorists for us?" She shrugged. "We could support them with weapons and training."
"Who would fight for you?" Hadir asked.
Natalia scratched her cheek, clearly thinking. It wasn't long before she that look of realization on her face. She walked over to the children and knelt in front of them.
"I know what can be done!" Natalia couldn't help but grin, almost feeling proud of her new idea.
"What are you going to do?" Farah asked.
"I'm going to give my people a reason to leave your home," Natalia stated, her grip on their shoulders firm. "I'm going to teach you both everything my mother and mentors have taught me. I'm going to train you two to fight!"