The Secret Speech

WITH HER CHARACTERISTIC KNACK for manipulation, Fraera brought a single, oversized plate of hot stew. There was no option but to sit around, cross-legged, eating together. Zoya refused, at first, to join in, remaining apart. However, the food was turning cold, and heat being its sole redeeming quality, reluctantly she joined in, eating with them side by side, metal forks clattering as they spiked chunks of vegetable and meat. Malysh asked:

— Zoya told me that you’re a teacher.

Raisa nodded:

— Yes.

— I can’t read or write. I’d like to, though.

— I’ll help you learn, if you want.

Zoya shook her head, ignoring Raisa and addressing Malysh:

— I can teach you. You don’t need her.

The plate of food was nearly finished. Soon they’d split off and return to their separate corners of the room. Exploiting the moment, Leo said to Zoya:

— Elena wants you to come home.

Zoya stopped eating. She said nothing. Leo continued:

— I don’t want to upset you. Elena loves you. She wants you to come home.

Leo added no more details, softening the truth.

Zoya stood up, dropping her fork, walking away. She remained standing, facing the wall, before lying down on the bedding, in the corner, her back to the room. Malysh followed, sitting beside her, resting his arm on her back.

* * *

LEO AWOKE, SHIVERING. It was early in the morning. He and Raisa were huddled on one side of the room, Malysh and Zoya on the other side. Yesterday Fraera had been absent: food had been brought by a Hungarian freedom fighter. Leo had noticed a change. A solemnity had fallen across the apartment. There were no more drunk cheers and no more celebrations.

Standing up, he approached the small window. He rubbed a patch of condensation from the glass. Outside, snow was falling. What should have sealed the impression of a city at peace, clean white and tranquil, only compounded Leo’s sense of unease. He could see no children playing, no snowball fights. The year’s first snowfall, in a liberated city, but there was no excitement and no delight. There was no one on the streets at all.

4 NOVEMBER

SOMEWHERE IN THE SKY above the apartment a faint whining noise climaxed in a high-pitched boom. A jet plane had flown overhead. Leo sat bolt upright. The room was dark. He stood, walking to the window. Raisa woke immediately, asking:

— What is it?

Before Leo could answer, explosions sounded out across the city, several in rapid sequence, in many locations. In an instant Raisa, Malysh, and Zoya were up, by his side, peering out the window. Addressing them, Leo said:

— They’re back.

There was panic in the adjacent rooms, footsteps on the roof, insurgents caught off guard, scrambling into position. Leo could see a tank on the street. Its turret pointed this way and that, before aiming directly at the rooftop snipers.

— Move away!

Shooing the others to the far side of the room, there was a split second of stillness, then an explosion. They were knocked off their feet, the roof collapsed, and the back wall fell away, beams tumbling down. Only a small portion of the room remained, closed by the sloping wreckage. Leo covered his face with the bottom of his shirt, struggling to breathe, checking on the others.

Raisa grabbed the remains of a smashed timber beam, battering at the door. Leo joined her, trying to break out. Malysh called out:

— This way!

There was a gap ripped through the base of the wall into the adjoining room. Flat on their stomachs, with the danger of the roof collapsing completely, they crawled through, tunneling out of the debris, reaching the corridor. There were no guards, no vory. The apartment was empty. Opening the door to the courtyard balcony, they saw occupants fleeing their homes, many huddled, unable to decide whether to brave the streets or whether they were safer staying where they were.

Malysh bolted back inside. Leo shouted:

— Malysh!

He returned, holding a belt of ammunition, grenades, and a gun. Raisa tried to disarm him, shaking her head:

— They’ll kill you.

— They’ll kill us anyway.

— I don’t want you to take them.

— If we’re going to get out of the city, we need them.

Raisa looked to Leo. He said:

— Give me the gun.

Malysh reluctantly handed it to him. A nearby explosion ended the debate:

— We don’t have much time.

Leo looked up at the dark sky. Hearing the drone of jet engines, he hurried them toward the stairs. There was no sign of any vory: he reasoned they must be fighting or they’d fled. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, moving through the terrified crowd, toward the passageway:

— Maxim!

Leo turned, looking up. Fraera was standing on the roof, machine gun in her arms. Trapped in the middle of the courtyard, they had no chance of reaching the passageway before she gunned them down. He called out:

— It’s over, Fraera! This was never a fight you could win!

— Maxim, I’ve already won!

— Look around you!

— I didn’t win it with a gun. I won it with this.

Around her neck was a camera.

— Panin was always going to use the full force of his army. I wanted him to. I want him to smash this city to rubble and fill it with dead citizens! I want the world to see the true nature of our country. No more secrets! No one is ever going to believe in the benevolence of our motherland again! That’s my revenge.

— Let us go.

— Maxim, you still don’t understand. I could’ve killed you a hundred times. Your life is more of a punishment than death. Go back to Moscow, the four of you, with a son wanted for murder, in love with a hate-filled daughter. Just try and be a family.

Leo separated from the group:

— Fraera, I am sorry for what I did to you.

— The truth is, Maxim… I was nothing until I hated you.

Leo turned around, facing the passageway, expecting a bullet in the back. No bullets were fired. At the exit onto the street he paused, looking back. Fraera was gone.

SAME DAY