C Taylor - Nadya's War

Unfortunately, it would take some time for me to get a letter to her and have her reply, assuming I even could. By then, Petrov would’ve had his fun with me, not to mention ample opportunity to intercept any such communication. It’s not as if they granted me a radio to speak to her in this cell. I also didn’t know to what lengths Marina would go to save me, let alone listen to me. As such, the Major was out, which left me with the regiment’s doctor, Ivan Burak.

I’d seen Ivan Burak a couple of times since my return about my injuries. He didn’t offer much other than to see him in a few weeks if the wounds turned ugly, and the exams were brief. The latter was on account that his eyes stared more at my body than my arms, and everything about the encounters had me shifting in the seat and wanting to get out of there. Despite that, I needed his help. A medical condition was holding me back, threatening my life. He could fix it all with Tamara if I could get him on my side.

I leaned against the door and cleared my throat to get the guard’s attention. The soldier, eighteen by my guess, shot me a glare out of his icy blue eyes. Another ten years and he might have been intimidating, but his baby face wasn’t much to fear. “I want to see the doctor,” I said.

“Shut up and get back from the door,” he said. He unslung his weapon from his shoulder and rested his finger next to the trigger. “You can see him when you’re out of here.”

“This is a minor infraction,” I said, knowing my rights. “And as an officer, I’m entitled to see the doctor for treatment when I demand it.”

“Treatment for what?” he scoffed.

My burns ached more than usual, and I realized his balking was raising my anxiety. I decided to put pressure on him and play the resentful type. I couldn’t afford delays. “Listen, private. You’re doing your job well, but I am an officer, and I will be out of here in a few days. Do you want to be on my bad side when that happens?”

The guard hesitated before calling another soldier over. The two had a quiet conversation, and though I couldn’t hear the words, their gestures and glances told me it had to with the claims I’d made. After a short while, the soldier ran off and the guard returned. “I’m fetching the doctor, but if you try anything queer, I’ll shoot.”

I waited patiently, pleased at the authority I carried. Funny what a uniform and attitude could do. Had I neither, I’d have been merely another twenty-year-old girl saddled with despair and stuck in a cell.

It took about a half hour for Doctor Ivan to come. He walked in with his hands in his trouser pockets and an old stethoscope hanging around his neck. His hawkish eyes locked on to me, and a tight smile spread across his face. Without looking back, he waved the guard away. “You can wait outside, soldier.”

“Comrade doctor, I must—”

Ivan cut him off with a scowl. “I said you can wait outside. Now close the door.”

I enjoyed seeing my overzealous guard run off, but as soon as the door shut, I wished he had stayed. The air about Ivan felt off, as if it couldn’t settle in his presence. My gut told me to tell him I was feeling better and he could go, but I told myself I was being paranoid. “Thank you for coming,” I said, managing an appreciative smile. “I could use your help.”

“I might be able to,” he replied. “What’s wrong?”

I rolled up my sleeves and outstretched my arms, palms up. “My burns are giving me trouble.”

“We’ve been over this before,” he said. “Such terrible wounds can cause pain for a lifetime, even if they are small. Living life is not like crossing a meadow.”

“I’m not expecting life to be easy or the pain to go away. All I want is for you to tell the Major I can fly.”

“If you can’t work the controls safely, I’m afraid I can’t.”

His dark eyes looked regretful, but the slight drawing back of the corners of his mouth said otherwise. There was something on his mind, and it wasn’t relief for me. I dreaded asking the next question, but I didn’t feel I had any other choice. “There must be something you can do, yes?”

“A small dose of morphine could take the edge off,” he said. As soon as my eyes reflected my hope and I leaned forward, he added to his comment. “That would still take you off flight status. The Major would be concerned your brain would be muddled.”

“I could handle it.”

“I’d like to let you try,” he said. “But I have to document all I do. Not to would be… risky.”

There it was, the unspoken request. My stomach tightened, and the room chilled worse than any Siberian winter. I forced the question he wanted out of my mouth. I had to fly. I had to avoid Petrov at all costs. “What could I do to make things easier?”

Ivan closed the distance between us. His fingers toyed with my hair before trailing down my shoulder and side. “Where’s the fun in spelling it all out?”

I considered the offer, even though I loathed myself for doing so. I hadn’t a choice. It would be the lesser of two evils, I told myself. The doctor was only in his thirties, so there wasn’t a huge age gap between us. And I might have found him handsome if he hadn’t been so creepy.

Ivan touched my shoulder and leaned in close. “My room then, in the evening, when Kazarinova says you’re done in here. Do freshen up first.”

His words echoed in my ears. I felt myself withdraw deep inside my body as I pictured what spending a night with him would be like. I even dared to hope it would be a one-time event as well.

“I—” I stopped once I caught a whiff of cologne come from his neck. I cocked my head when I noticed his chin was freshly shaven as well. Muscles tightened. He’d planned all of this before he even spoke to me. My hands made fists, and I stepped back. I hated him for thinking so little of me, but I hated myself for even tiptoeing around that path, even if it was on account of how badly I needed to be in the air. “Get away from me.”

“Throw your life away then,” he said. “In four days you’ll be gone, and no amount of begging will get me to save you now.”

The cell door slammed shut so hard I could feel the shock though my feet. I paced around the room like a caged animal looking to break free. No, like a wild boar ready to charge head long through whoever stood in my way. I could catch them by surprise. I could steal a gun, a car, or a plane if I had to. Even the darkest creatures from the gates of Hell would not be able to drag me back to him, and certainly the Almighty would not condemn me to such a fate. I could break free. I would break free.

“I won’t break free,” I said, sighing. “Think, Nadya. Think.”

I put one hand in the other and squeezed. My wounds throbbed and my head floated, but I squeezed harder, hoping to train my mind to accept the pain and move on. If I could master my body, I could show Tamara I could climb back in that cockpit.

I pulled my hands against each other for a quarter hour until I was dripping with sweat. I knew my twisted face and trembling body wouldn’t pass Tamara’s inspection, but I told myself I was on the right track to building tolerance. All I needed was more time.

I looked around the room hoping to find something. Since this was a cell, however, there wasn’t anything to work with. When I looked up and saw the single wood beam above me, I grinned.

“How about this for a good pull demonstration,” I said, feeling clever.

I jumped up and grabbed the beam with both hands. Fire raced through my arms as I pulled my chin over the top of the beam and held it. In my head I counted, determined to reach thirty seconds. Sharp stabs pulsated from my wrists to my shoulders, and I fell off before I reached the count of ten.