C Taylor - Nadya's War

Gridnev chuckled. “A day. I’ll tell her a week, and you’ll not say otherwise. But the truth is, I can’t lock up a mechanic for long and expect the regiment to be combat ready.”

I relaxed. Hopefully that meant his anger was for show and this would blow over soon. “Is there anything else, comrade major?”

“You also need to address that kiss.”

My hopes for a quick and easy dismissal were shattered. “I don’t know what to say,” I replied. “It was unplanned. I was a little dazed, and it seemed funny.”

“Was it?”

Deep down, it wasn’t funny. It was hysterical. I could barely hold a straight face thinking about the shock I gave her pulling her from violence to tenderness. But I couldn’t say that and expect things to go well, so I lied. “No, comrade major.”

“Are you two having any sort of relationship other than professional?”

I could feel my face contort in shock. “Of course not, comrade major,” I said. “I’ve never even considered it.”

“That’s not an ‘of course not’ question,” he said, leveling a finger at me. “I’m giving you a chance to come clean. If you are, I’ll sweep it under the rug and transfer one of you to a different regiment since I’m more interested in killing Germans than I am anything else. If I find out you’re lying later on, I’ll have no choice other than to call in a commissar for an investigation. If you’re engaged in immoral and deceitful behavior, who knows what else you’re involved with. Do I make myself clear?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Yes, comrade major. It was bad judgment on my end. Nothing more.”

“You’re damn right it was,” he said. “From here on out, the two of you will not engage in anything that could be construed as fraternizing between an officer and an enlisted member. Understood?”

I nodded. What else could I do? “Of course, comrade major.”

“You girls will be the death of me, I swear,” he said, sighing. The tension left his voice, and he eased back in his chair. “Now then, on to strategic matters. I’m pleased with the results of your first deep strike. A few more of those and the Germans will have to pull fighters from Stalingrad to cover their rear. That’ll give much needed relief to our fighters and bombers in the area, not to mention some hope for everyone on the ground.”

“I’m eager to do my part.”

“I want to put more pressure on the fascists,” he said. “The 8 thArmy Air is down to two hundred planes. They’ve all but given the skies over Stalingrad to the Luftwaffe. While we still can’t contest them, I’m not going to sit here and do nothing.”

“Alexandra and I are up for more,” I said. “But we’re a pair of fighters. Our guns only do so much. Send some bombers with us, and you’ll get the German’s attention.”

Gridnev’s eyes lit up and his cheeks dimpled. “Precisely what I plan on doing, Nadya. I’m going to try and get some of the ground-attack regiments to assist us from here on out. So expect escort duty for the next few weeks.”

“Looking forward to it, comrade major.” I said. Though I replied in an even manner, internally I was thrilled at being assigned more strikes and scared at the dangerous nature of it all. Protecting bombers was a different beast than hunting on our own. If things went bad during the latter, our Yak-1s had a good chance to run. Bombers didn’t have that luxury, and we had to stick with them no matter what. Of course, the added responsibility also meant Gridnev was confident in my abilities as a pilot. My soul beamed at that thought.

Gridnev dismissed me after a bit of small talk, and I decided to head to the infirmary to have my newest wound looked at. A dull ache radiated across a large part of my head, and I wanted to be sure Klara hadn’t cracked my skull or chipped a cheek bone. Judging from the bloody rag in my hand, I knew I also needed stitches.

“Still getting yourself torn up, I see,” Doctor Burak said as I entered the room. He had a stethoscope in hand and was listening to a freckled boy breathe—a pilot from Third Squadron I presumed. He gave me a passing glance before returning to his work. “Take a seat. I’ll be with you shortly.”

When his patient left and he finally got to me, it was apparent that his idea of shortly was not at all what mine was. I suspected it was his passive-aggressive attitude due to my previous rebuffs. “Is it broken?” I asked, sitting on a wooden stool and pointing to the side of my head.

Burak’s fingers probed the wound. “No,” he said, “but it does look like quite the lover’s quarrel.”

I sighed and shook my head. News had spread across the base faster than the blitzkrieg, and already I was irritated at the jabs. If they thought we were a real couple, those jabs would have turned vicious. “It was nothing like that.”

“If you say,” he replied. “I have no ill-will to those desiring uncommon relationships. I was, however, going to suggest you seek a tenderer companionship with someone else before something like this does you in.”

My skin crawled, and I pulled away. “The only thing I’m looking for right now is a set of stitches so I’m not bleeding all over the place.”

“We got off on the wrong foot earlier,” he said. He was trying to sound friendly, but there was an underlying edge to his voice that showed he was more annoyed than anything else. “Why don’t we start over tonight, Nadya? I’ll have some decent food brought in. Maybe a bottle of wine, yes? We can relax and get to know each other.”

I smirked at his absurd persistence. “I don’t drink. Just stitch me up.”

Burak grunted and went over to a row of new, green crates lined up on a nearby table. They had English words across them, in white, which I couldn’t read, but the black caduceus on each one’s front told me all I needed. The short staff with wings and intertwined serpents clearly labeled the crates as medical supplies. From one he pulled a dark bottle of iodine, some gauze, and a folded cloth pouch.

“We’re low on anesthetics,” he said, putting the iodine on the gauze. “This might hurt a little.”

He cleaned the wound like he was scrubbing pots caked with grease. It hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to what I’d endured with my burns. In a way, I was glad they’d tormented me because they gave me the resolve not to flinch as he tended to my head. Still, I wasn’t going to let his lie go unchallenged. “Looks like you have quite the supply right there from the Americans.”

From the folded pouch he took a suturing needle, thread, and forceps. “I haven’t catalogued it all,” he said. “No telling how much or little we have. They sent some better rations, too. Not that it’s for you, but I thought you should know.”

A fire ignited in my soul. A trickle of perspiration ran down my back, and all I wanted to do was to drive him into the ground. I knew I couldn’t do that, but I was through being treated like a dog. “What do you think Major Gridnev will say when I tell him you’re neglecting your duties as a physician?”

“I don’t think he’ll respond kindly once I inform him the accusations come from a girl unfit to fly and who tried to change my mind about my recommendations with physical advances.”

“Stitch me up and get it over with.”

The needle burned as it pierced my skin time and again. With hard pulls, he drew the wound closed with the sutures. More than once my head jerked to the side with the tugs he made, but I didn’t make a noise. I didn’t even let my eyes water. I took all that pain and let it fuel my disgust for the man.

When he was done, I stood, looked him square in the eyes, and spoke with an even tone. “Next time you threaten me or decide to get cute, remember this: I’ve been shot at, blown apart, and set on fire by my enemies, and every day I still get in my plane and hunt them down. I’m not someone you can intimidate, and I’m not someone who won’t fight back.”