18.01.202X - The RR-AF

 

The RR-AF

Mishka sat against the window looking out at the cafe tables outside- Snow covered and white. People walk past in their heavy coats and hats. The Moscow street was bustling- people with their heads down, with places to be and a wish to get inside.

She sighed, taking a sip of her hot chocolate, contemplating re-reading the letter on the table. The envelope- beaten up and heavily handled, with five stamps lining the top, liberally taped with plastic, was addressed to her in the shaky scrawling handwriting of her grandfather.

She had leave stacked up- she just couldn't stand the idea of going back home. Home was great – Mama, Dyeda and Ba were lovely. The house had improved with the wages she was sending over. The garden and fields were good, the pantry was stocked. She had her own room.

It was the rest of the village that was the issue.

She'd returned home after the Kremlin's collapse was broadcasted, arm with rods, face and knee barely healed - She didn't anticipate the level of anger directed at her and her family. She arrived home ashamed but it quickly turned into self loathing. Eventually she had to be picked up by a friend's father and taken back to Moscow by car.

She woke up to a scream from her mother in the morning. Someone had left a pile of beheaded rats in a box on their front doorstep, complete with the blade used to butcher them.

The word 'Предатель' was written on the knife in black sharpie-- 'Traitor'.

Dyeda probably thought the letters weren't going through- the number of stamps had increased gradually with each new envelope. She'd read them all.

She sighs, pulling out the paper pad underneath the envelope, taking the pen from her shirt pocket.

She puts the pen nib to the paper. She stares at the page, wanting the letter to just write itself.

“Misha?” A familiar voice called from across the coffeeshop.

Mishka looked up.

A solider around her age smiles as Mish looks up at her- She still had her overcoat and hat on, the grey wool and black fur dusted from the snow outside. Her cheeks were rosy, bright icy blue eyes framed by short curly brown hair, blending in with the regulation fur hat and RR-AF pin.

“Masha!” Mish beams, tapping the seat opposite, gesturing for her to sit down, “I thought you had another week out!”

“Fedir said you'd be around here. I got summoned to come back early.” Masha smiled, taking off her coat and hat, sitting down.

“Summons?” Mishka asked.

“No idea. Haven't heard anything about it yet- Just got the very official letter-- If my captain approves it then I guess I'm allowed.” Masha shrugs, “Oh they're saying they want you back soon.”

Mish nodded, looking down at her paper.

“Whatcha writing?”

“My family sent me another letter. Dedya thinks they're not going through, but I just don't know what to write,” She sighs, looking at the letter, “... I'm-- ashamed- y'know? What if the rat thing happens again- I become a child at home.”

Masha frowned.

“...you don't have to write it now- why don't we go over it after dinner?” Masha asked.

Mishka stared at the paper.

      They probably think I hate them.

“Are you ready to go back?” Masha asked.

“Oh you're not getting coffee?”Mishka looked up, putting the papers and letter back in her pocket

“I'll go grab a takeaway cup. Only really came out to find you. You desperately need a phone.” Masha said, putting on her hat and coat, talking over her shoulder as she walks to the counter.

Mish nodded, pulling on her hat, buttoning her overcoat.

Yeah I do.

Mish and Masha make their way over the road.

There's still occupying soldiers around- acting more like military police than anything.

Dark black coats to distinguish them from the Russian soldiers- A large 'NATO-OTAN' patch at the shoulder, combat helmets with woollen balaclavas making them look like a field soldier with a stolen coat- Rifles in hand.

They stand idly, watching the various Russian grey-coats walk up to the hall.

Fedir was standing outside waiting as they got back.

His face wasn't the happy-go-lucky look he usually had. He looked stressed.

“Everyone's in the hall. They're handing out what I think are mission slips.” He whispered.

“Mission slips? Did you get one?” Mish asked, noticing the confused oppressive look on a lot of people's faces, "We're on leave- why're they pulling us on leave now" She muttered under her breath.  

Other soldiers walk up to the hall, standing around in groups. If it wasn't for the heavy anxious atmosphere, you could assume it was some kind of ceremony.

“Yeah. I got a slip. There's no information on them apart from time and kit. They're saying this is for tomorrow.” He explained, holding the paper in his hand. It looked more the size of a cheque than the large files they were used to.

They walk in- the usual tables and chairs are gone, the place packed with people standing in groups- everyone a sea of grey, blue and white. They walk up to the tables of people handing out the papers.

“Name?” the male soldier asked.

“Mishka Sokolova.”

He looked at a laden clipboard, flicking through the papers on it, marking off with a pen.

Mishka felt a pang of dread as he reached for the paper slips marked 'C'.

He handed her a slip with her name printed on the side.

“What's this about?” She asked, taking the folded paper.

“I have no clue.” He sighed- He's probably been asked hundreds of times already.

Mishka nods, walking back to Fedir- Masha comes back from a different table.

“What's yours say?” Fedir asked.

Mish unfolds the paper.

GROUP 205

STATION 2

02/01/202X

0630 Report in to city brief hall C.

Cold field uniform. Essentials will be provided.

Personal items brought at your own risk.

     IS THAT IT?!

“What the fuck is this?” Mish seethed.

“Same as mine. Masha?” Fedir asked.

“Mines different. Group 260, station 8, hall B.” Masha said.

“This feels wrong-- like, really wrong.” Mish said, looking at her paper slip.

“...You don't think it's--”

“-- We're not fighting anyone. My brother hasn't said anything. Don't worry.” Masha interrupted Mishka.

“Where's your brother?” Fedir asked.

“Estonia. If we declared war again, he'd be messaging me so fast.- We were talking earlier.” Masha shook her head.

Mishka took off her hat, running her gloved hand through her hair.

“At least we're together.” Fedir put his hand on Mish's shoulder, “Take the simcard out of your phone- do the band-aid trick. At least if shit happens, we can loot some burners. Tell your brother what's happened.” Fedir whispered to Masha.

“I'll message Izzy for you.” Masha said, already typing on her cracked android.