The girls were split on Tamara’s reassignment. Some, like Zhenia, wished she’d be stripped of her rank and sent to a penal brigade. Others were much more forgiving. I think I was more in the latter group. While I did feel Tamara shouldn’t have sent Valeriia up that night, I knew she was under immense pressure from brass and tried her best. Unfortunately, her best wasn’t good enough. Maybe she should have quietly retired. I did wish I could’ve said goodbye to her. Not being able to felt as if she’d died since she’d vanished.
When it was over, Gridnev dismissed us all, and then had me follow him to the command post. To my surprise, he also had Alexandra join us as well. I figured that was probably a good thing. I might kill the man if we were alone when he said I was no longer a pilot.
“Sit, sit,” he said, taking his seat behind Tamara’s old desk.
I eased into one of two chairs across from him and studied my new adversary. He was taller than I was by a half-dozen centimeters. He looked solid under his olive jacket, which was as immaculate as I’d come to expect from any upper officer. His face was round with a jaw as strong as a Soviet winter. He wore a clean shave and short hair that had a touch of grey. He tried to look serious, but his brown eyes smiled like a newborn’s.
He kept the desk neater than Tamara had, for there were only two things on it, the officer’s hat he’d tossed there a moment ago and the picture of an intense-looking man with large eyes that stared into the distance with a face that hinted at being Flemish. He wore the uniform of a marshal. The dark coat with two rows of gilt buttons and large stars on the collar made his rank obvious. I felt like I should know the man, but I drew a blank. “Good morning, Major,” I said, remembering to be polite. “Was he a friend of yours?”
Gridnev glanced at the picture. “Tukhachevsky? No, but he was of my father.”
I straightened in surprise. While I didn’t know what he’d looked like, I knew the name. Everyone did. Mikhail Tukhachevsky was one of several high-ranking officers killed by Stalin’s purging of the Red Army five years prior. “Why do you have his picture?” I asked, unable to come up with any guess of my own. “I’d think displaying such a… person would bring unwanted attention.”
“I’ve already had unwanted attention, Junior Lieutenant,” he said. “Twice, in fact. I keep his picture as a reminder of what this world can be like.”
“Comrade major?”
“A place where friends can be enemies and enemies can be friends, and being a hero makes no difference in the end.” He stopped, and I was certain he was going to say more on the matter, but didn’t. “Enough of that. I’d like to discuss your flying.”
“What about it, comrade major?” I asked, exchanging a brief glance with Alexandra.
“I’ve been going over your file,” Gridnev said, pulling two folders from the drawer in his desk. “Hers as well.”
Concern washed over Alexandra’s face. Though she had her hands folded in her lap to appear professional, I could see her fidgeting with them. “Have we done something wrong?”
“Commissar Petrov seems to think so.”
I swore. Gridnev arched an eyebrow and Alexandra gasped. “Apologies, comrade major,” I said, even though I wasn’t at all sorry. “Permission to speak freely on the matter?”
“For the moment.”
“Commissar Petrov has had it out for me for months and is looking for any excuse to do me in. He’s a liar and a loose cannon, doing far more harm than good. I’d also like to mention Major Kazarinova nearly shot him herself for his behavior.”
“Those are serious remarks, Junior Lieutenant.”
“It’s all the truth,” I said. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but I’m sure they’re lies.”
“Honestly, I don’t care,” he said. “About a week ago, all of the political commissars lost their command functions, which means all military decisions are back in the hands of military officers. Since I don’t know Petrov from the ass end of a badger and I’m not fond of the NKVD, I don’t care what he has to say, and I told him that. I also told him I intended to keep Major Kazarinova’s order in place that he’s not to bother any of you, or I’d send him away as well.”
I could have kissed him right then and there. I almost did. “Thank you, comrade major. You won’t regret it.”
“None of that, however, addresses my original concerns regarding your flying,” he replied. “Tell me what happened on your patrol on 30 September.”
Alexandra and I exchanged confused looks. I was the first to speak. “Was the after-action report lacking?”
Gridnev pulled our statements out of the file and lined them up next to each other. “The two accounts were thorough, especially near the beginning where you both describe spotting and subsequently following an unidentified aircraft. Curious, don’t you think, that you two say the exact same thing?”
“I’m not sure I follow,” I replied.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Junior Lieutenant,” he said, leaning forward with a grunt. “This never happened.”
I mentally kicked myself for such a dumb mistake. We were too specific in the same details for the story to hold up under scrutiny. Tamara was likely as excited as we were that we brought down two Luftwaffe to have noticed. Despite being nailed to the wall, I refused to give up. Maybe I could salvage something. I didn’t want to lie anymore, but I hoped I could redirect. “We brought down those planes. I wouldn’t lie about that.”
“I know. The recon flight that spotted the wreckage is in the final report. But you did lie about the aircraft you spotted prior to the fight.”
“It was my idea,” Alexandra said. “I wanted to head south. Our patrols were boring, and my little brother Viktor keeps writing, wanting to know how many Germans we shot down. I wanted to be able to write him back with exciting news.”
Gridnev eyed us. The shine in his eyes disappeared, and his stare chilled me to the bone. “Is this accurate, Junior Lieutenant Buzina? That’s a severe breach of responsibilities.”
For a brief moment, I thought about letting Alexandra fall on the sword for me. I’m not sure why she volunteered to. Perhaps she thought she would only be reprimanded while I was facing much worse, but I couldn’t let her do that. “It’s not true,” I replied. I put a hand on Alexandra as she started forward, I presume to argue. “She’s trying to protect me. The truth is, I’m the one who had to prove myself. I gave the order to fly south as the patrols we were being sent on amounted to nothing during the day. I needed the kill.”
“Still your wingman even while on the ground, eh?” he said. He leaned back in his chair, looking impressed. “What did you need the kill for? Pride?”
“To make a difference in the war,” I said. That part was true, but it wasn’t the entire truth. I sensed he might suspect such a thing, so I filled him in on the rest. “I was also afraid Kazarinova was looking to have me replaced once we returned. I didn’t want my service to end in disgrace, and I figured if I had a kill under my belt, she’d reconsider.”
“Why would she replace you?”
“On account of my burns,” I said, showing him my palms. “She was afraid they’d interfere with my ability to function in the air.”
Gridnev stuffed the reports back into the folder. “That’s close to what I suspected,” he said. “Major Kazarinova had mentioned them in your file, but I wanted to hear all of this from your mouth before I committed to any decision.”
“So I’m losing my wings then?”