For Love or Country
Page 13
Ivan steps back and takes a big, deep breath, and takes my hand. “After I say what I am about to say, you may hate me. You may never want to see me again, and your duty will be to do something that right now you do not want to do. I do not want you to do it either, but as I've sat here, worried, I can see no other plan that works and keeps you safe, which is the most important thing to me in this world.”
I shake my head, confused. I only had one glass of wine, I shouldn't be shaken up like this. “Whoa, whoa, whoa... okay, start from the beginning, and tell me what's going on. Please.”
Ivan swallows, then nods. “The beginning... the beginning was six years ago, when I was fourteen years old. I was approached by men from the SVR, the Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki, the descendants of the old KGB. My father, he had left my family years before, that was no lie. But the Russian military never forgets, and they remembered that Dimitri Rostov was a handsome man. So they approached me with an offer. I went along with it, why not? Since that bastard Dimitri left my mother, we had scrapped and scraped, watching as our country rose from ashes, but that power was concentrated in the hands of only a few men. Their offer was simple. I would be trained, given a new identity, and sent to a university in the United Kingdom or America, with the idea of, well, the English translation is to fuck your enemy.”
I gasp, realizing what he means. “You... but wha?”
“I was most of the way through my training in Moscow, going to advanced schools, taking English lessons, but also training in martial arts, sambo and boxing especially, but also trained in psychology, in seduction, in ways of making a woman into a lust-crazed playtoy. We were about one year from sending me to Berkley when our connections through the Ukrainians learned of the offer by your White House that a Ukrainian cadet join one of the American military academies. I do not know exactly how, but I was selected. My job was simple. Pass classes, seduce female cadets and officers, and obtain blackmail worthy evidence that could be used against them later on when they were in positions of direct influence. Such as Daria Roberts, whose father is a Congressman, or Kathy Lin, or now Major Vanessa Hollister. I... I degraded the ones that I fucked, I got pictures of them in compromising positions, videos of them begging for me to fuck them, things... oh dear God, things I do not even want to recall. Until I met you, I was quite successful at my mission.”
“You... you fucked me to turn me into what, a spy for... for Russia?” I ask, seeing his face. His story is outrageous, it's hard to believe, but looking in his eyes, there is nothing but the truth coming from his lips. “You just fucked me as a job?”
“NO!” Ivan protests, his eyes full of pain. “Christina, no offense, but you have never been a target for blackmail. You have no value to Russia, no business or political connections that could be exploited. I... I started talking with you because you touched something within me, Christina. I started making up lies, excuses to my handlers, turning down targets. The first, in fact, was Daria. I was going to go through with my mission, she was ready, but I could not. I could not do it, because I could not stop thinking about you. I thought, I deluded myself into thinking that perhaps I could keep up the subterfuge, feed my handlers rumors and bullshit since none of the cadets would be in a position for exploitation for years, long after I knew fate would tear us apart. But... tonight, my handlers sent me another target, and I couldn't do it any more. They said, they said I have to seduce and exploit Karli, apparently her intelligence and her future in the MI have caught someone's attention.”
I gasp, my stomach churning. “Why are you telling me this, Ivan? Why are you breaking my heart and hurting me like this?”
Ivan blinks, and a tear trickles down his cheek as he looks at me. “They threatened that if I did not, they would kill you, Christina. Knowing the Russians, they’d kill you out of spite if I just walked away, so I had to do something. I can stare my death in the face, I thought I could at least, but to think of your being hurt, that I cannot do. So.... so I came here. I need you to come with me.”
I hear Taps start, and I shake my head. “Ivan, I can't go anywhere with you. I took an oath to uphold the Constitution, to defend my country. You're a spy! You... you lied to me the whole time we've been together, and now you're asking me to go with you? Where, to do what?”
“Come with me, please. There is one man I know we can talk to that can keep you safe. My handlers always told me to avoid him, and I think I know why. Please, I’m going to turn myself in, but I have to know that you will be taken care of when I do.” Ivan gets out of the chair he's in and gets down on his knees, tears streaming down his face. “Please, Christina. It is not far, only five minutes from here. I just need to know that you are safe.”
“I... okay, Ivan. Five minutes.”
Ivan springs to his feet and pulls me in, kissing me. I'm angry, I'm hurt, but in that kiss, I know that he was telling me the truth. He might be a spy, but he never wanted to hurt me. I kiss him back, and when we part, he's not the only one crying. “Where are we going?”
“The Commandant of Cadets.”
It's eleven thirty at night, and my boyfriend the Russian spy is telling me that he wants to go wake up a one star general.
Of course he does.
Chapter 14
Ivan
There are a few surprised looks from Central Guard Room when Christina and I walk past, it is the most direct route to the Commandant's house, but they let us go without stopping, seeing the Firstie stripes on Christina's dress gray. It’s Branch Night, so they give us a little bit leeway, and we walk by MacArthur statue without anyone stopping us. The next building belongs to the Superintendent, and Christina points. “Why not him?”
“I do not know, but my handlers were never concerned about me interacting with the Supe. They just wanted me to avoid the Commandant at all costs,” I say as we keep walking. “Here, we are here.”
The Commandant's house is the oldest on West Point, completed a year before the Superintendent's. I mount the steps, Christina next to me, and it is with a shaking hand that I knock on the door, hoping that I am not waking up anyone inside.
A light snaps on in the second floor quickly, and I hear steps come down the steps inside before the porch light turns on, and the door opens to see a very confused Brigadier General Issac Nelson standing in his pajamas and robe, his eyes quickly clearing as he sees two cadets standing on his porch. “I hope you two have a good reason to be waking me up, it's after Taps, you should both be in your rooms.”
“Sir, my name is Ivan Vasushenko, company F-1. I have come to turn myself in.”
General Nelson blinks, but reacts quickly. “Come in, and explain yourself. Who is this?”
Christina handles herself well, and speaks strongly. “Cadet Christina Logan, sir. Ivan... we're dating, sir.”
The Comm stands back, and we enter the house. It’s obviously been painstakingly preserved while the Academy worked hard at keeping it updated to the needs of modern housing. The rich rug we walk over as he leads us to his study barely whispers as Christina goes over and sits down. I want to sit next to her, but instead I know what to do, I need to make sure that I survive the next few minutes at least, so I go to the middle of the floor and kneel down, crossing my ankles before putting my hands into the gap behind my kneecaps and sitting down painfully. The Comm notices. “That's a unique sitting position, Cadet Vasushenko. I suppose it has something to do with why you're at my house at this hour?”
“Sir... I am turning myself in to you, and will make a full confession to anything that you wish to ask, but first I wish to make a statement,” I start, looking General Nelson in the eye. “I want to state, first and foremost, that Christina did not know about my activities. She is totally blameless, and when I told her what I am about to tell you, the first thing she said was that I had to turn myself in. Her first thought was to her duty to the Army and to the United States of America.”
The Commandant hums, and tilts his head.
There's a knock on the doorway to the living room, and the Commandant's wife, also in her pajamas, is there. “Issac? Is there anything wrong?”
The Comm glances to his wife, and shakes his head. “Some things just need to be talked over for a little, Helen. Please, would you take Cadet Logan here and get her some cocoa or milk? Oh, and call Central Guard Room, inform them that she and Cadet Vasushenko are here as my guests. They are excused from room checks.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Nelson says, ever the professional officer's wife. They've been married for twenty five years, and she's been with her husband ever since he was an Armor company Executive Officer. I know more than a little about them both. “Come with me...?”
“Christina,” Christina says, getting up. Before she can go though, I speak up.
“Sir, would it not be safer if...”
“Ivan, there is no safer place on this post than my kitchen. However, it would be in Christina's best interest if you and I talked alone for a little while,” the Comm says. “Also, you can get up off the floor, go have a seat on the couch. If you'd like, I can always take out the .45 that I have in my desk drawer.”
“That would perhaps be wise, sir. I would also ask that you call the MPs. I am willing to go with them after we discuss things.”
Christina stops at the door, and turns back to look at the two of us. “General....?”
“He is safe, Cadet Logan,” the Comm says, gesturing with his head. “Go on, when we're finished, I'll give you a chance to talk with him.”
Christina leaves, closing the door to the study behind her, and the Commandant turns his attention back to me. “You give me your word, as a man, that she has nothing to do with this?”
I nod, and reach for my pants pocket. “I can do better than that, sir. Here.”
I see the Comm tense, but then relax as I take out my cell phone and pass it to him. “While the text messages supposedly were deleted from memory within one minute, maybe somebody with a computer forensics background can help. Also, I uploaded a text file to it, with everything that I could recall.”
“Start at the beginning then, Ivan,” General Nelson says, sitting down. “And try to tell me everything.”
It takes nearly two hours, including questions, and I try my best to recall all the details at times. “Ah... six cadets, three officers. Since starting dating Christina, I was approached about others, I can't recall all their names, I spent more time making up lies about them to try and throw my handlers off the trail than actually getting to know the targets. I included who I remember in the text document.”
Nelson hums, and sets my phone aside. “And you said that there is a mole within the Ukrainian government?”
“That is what I was told. At the time, I had very limited information. I do know that one of the handlers, the only one I met face to face, works for the Ukrainian UN delegation,” I reply, sitting back. “General, I'll tell you or anyone in your government anything I can, but I need your personal promise on one thing.”
“What is that, Ivan?”
“You must make sure that Christina is protected. They threatened her, sir. I cannot cooperate with anyone unless I know, unless I have your personal promise on your honor that you will do everything you can to make sure that Christina is kept safe.”
The Commandant gives me a measured look, his eyes inscrutable before nodding. “You have my word, she will not be harmed as long as she's part of the Corps of Cadets. After that, I will see what I can do. There may be an old friend I can talk to. You know that I need to have the MPs come in now.”
“I know. I will not fight.”
The Commandant gets up, and heads to the door of his study. He reaches for the door handle, then stops, turning back to me. “Tell me, Ivan. Last year, in the boxing finals, you were very close to beating a man to death. Was it because of what Daria and Mike said to you two at the bowling alley? I didn't know about it at the time, but later on, Mike made a few comments during Brigade Staff meetings, things I got to overhear.”
“He was never in danger of dying, General. If I wanted him dead, he would have died in the ring and nobody could have stopped me. But yes, his insults to Christina deserved retribution. To be honest, the fact that the Army still gave him his Lieutenant's bars leaves me of two minds. The part of me that cares for Christina, and for friends like Karli Franklin, is worried because I know that Hernandez is not the only officer like him in the Army today, and they will make the life of the people I care about a living hell. The Russian agent in me however, is very happy, for it also weakens your Army. But please, get your MPs. You have been kind enough to sit up and listen to me for two hours now, but it is after one forty five in the morning. I am sure this is not something that will make your day easier, you should have a chance to get some sleep.”
“I'm not that old, Ivan,” the Comm says with a laugh, opening the door. Outside, three military policemen are waiting, along with the Superintendent, Mrs. Nelson, and Christina, who still looks scared. “Please arrest Cadet Vasushenko on charges of espionage and attempted subversion against the United States of America.”
The MPs come, and I will give them credit, they are professional as they handcuff me. There is no kicking, no extra cinching of my handcuffs, and as they lead me out, they let me walk under my own power.
Christina waits on the porch, her cheeks streaming with tears, and I stop, looking at her, trying not to cry myself. I look at the lead MP, and he understands, stopping me. “It seems I must go with these men.”
“It does. Ivan....” Christina starts, then takes a deep breath. “Ivan, why did you abandon your mission?”
The MPs lead me to their vehicle, and I watch at Christina gives the truck a curious look. The Commandant leans over and says something in her ear, and Christina's hand comes to her mouth. She reaches out, and shakes off the Commandant's hands on her shoulders, running towards the vehicle. “WAIT!”
The MP driver stops, and Christina reaches out, touching the glass on the side of the car. I lean my head against the glass, all I can do. “Ivan,” she calls through the glass, tears flowing down her beautiful cheeks. “Ivan... I love you too.”
“I love you, Christina. I am sorry.” It is all I know how to say, and the driver shifts into gear again. The Commandant comes down the steps and gently pulls Christina back, her eyes streaming tears, but giving the driver a safe path of departure. “Be strong, my love. Be strong.”
Chapter 15
Christina
There's a knock on my door, but I ignore it, knowing it's for my roommate. In the three weeks since Ivan's arrest, a very old form of vigilante punishment has been resurrected by the Corps of Cadets: silencing.
There are two instances where silencing has been used by the Corps of Cadets. In the first, the Corps would punish a cadet it felt had violated the Honor Code but, by some technicality or by a decision from the powers that be in the Army, was allowed to remain at USMA. With the rise of modern JAG oversight and review, the Corps let silencing fall away.
The other, and more disturbing use of silencing by the Corps was the treatment of various minorities when the tried to break into the then lily-white Long Gray Line. The first dozen or so black cadets had literally no one speak to them outside of duty situations their entire four years, the trend continuing for decades. Thankfully the Army learned, but now it seems it’s time to dust off this old favorite for another round.
No Ironside has spoken to me in three weeks, including my roommate. She can't be too upset though, as part of that silencing is that nobody has inspected our room either. Actually, I haven't seen much of my roomie. Other than sleeping here or changing cl
othes, she's spent as much of her free time out of the room as possible, only returning when I go somewhere. When the knock is repeated, it's both surprising and I have to admit missed. “Hello?”
The door opens, and I grin, it's Karli. “Hey, how's it going in the leper colony?”
“Just us who are unclean,” I joke, leaning back. “You sure you want to risk being seen talking to the traitor?”
“Oh, the Corps has come up with a better nickname than that now. I've heard three people call you Splash. Like Smash and Splash? Sure, it's a stupid fucking ripoff from Rocky IV, but at least it's more unique,” Karli jokes, coming in and closing the door. She sits down on my bed and stretches out, putting her hands behind her head. “How're you holding up?”
“Better than I thought I would be, once I realized what the hell’s going on,” I reply. “On one hand, it's good to have the peace and silence. Nobody bugs me, I've gotten more time to study, all of that good stuff. And as you see, with nobody inspecting my room, it gives me a whole extra ten minutes each morning to chill out and catch some Zs,” I joke, turning around in my desk chair and propping my feet on my footlocker. “Oh, and don't even get me into the whole table situation.”
“Oh?” Karli asks, lifting her head. “What's up there?”
I grin and gesture to my fridge. Well, it's technically my roomie’s, but since my silencing she's stopped using it, and I've got three milks, plenty of fruit, and lots of other healthy things in there to fuel my evenings. It's another side effect of the past three weeks, the fire that's burning inside me. “When the tables scrambled, I got a table nearly all to myself. Three Plebes, a Yuk, and me. I'm so popular that even when I send the Yuks to find someone who needs a table, they still won't come over. No lie, last week twice I had Cows and Yuks come to the table, realize who the table comm was, and turn around and leave without saying a word.”