Wake the commissar

I cautiously pull the curtain aside and step into Fedorov’s quarters. There he is. Fedorov is sprawled out on his cot in his underwear, happily snoring away, his fat belly sticking out from beneath his undershirt rising and falling. I really don’t want to do it. I know that nothing good will follow his arousal.

“Comrade commissar.” I whisper gently. Fedorov continues to snore.

“Comrade commissar.” I whisper a bit louder. Fedorov’s belly stops with a robust, phlegmy snort, but resets itself on its previous rhythm.

“Ivan.” I whisper, gently touching his arm.

“Ivan.” I gently pat his arm. He does not wake.

“It’s me, Tatyana.” I pat him harder but to no effect. I grab Fedorov over his shoulders and start to shake him. I might as well be shaking a hornet’s nest.

“Wake up. I need to…”

Fedorov’s bloodshot eyes snap open and he begins to flail violently, throwing his arms out and accidentally hitting me in the face. I step back and hold my nose while he sits up.

“Tatyana?” He asks groggily. “You better have a good reason for waking me up, girl.”

“We needed to report back to you.” I explain nervously.

“The Captain can give me his report in the morning.” Fedorov says, rubbing his eyes.

“He won’t be doing that, comrade commissar.”

“What’s his fucking problem? I’ll have him shot for disobeying me!”

“You might have a hard time with that.” I explain. “Somebody beat you to it.”

“What do you mean?” He asks. “Is he dead?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Oh well.” Fedorov snorts, laying back down. “I’ll have to pick someone to replace him. At least you still destroyed the ammunition dump.”

“About that…”

“What about that?” He asks, his yellow eyes narrowing.

“We, uh… we failed.”

“FAILED?” He springs up. His face reddens with anger. “I told you not to come back until the job was done!”

Fedorov stands up and begins to hastily pull his pants over his legs.

“Who did we lose?” He asks, stepping into his boots.

“Almost everyone.” I answer.

“Who survived?” He asks, pulling his uniform over his head.

“Dadonov and Smirnov, and four from fourth squad.”

“Where is that pussy Dadonov?” Fedorov asks angrily, snatching his revolver off his table and quickly looking through the cylinder. “I need to have a word with him.”

I shiver in fear. If Fedorov kills him, I’ll have nobody left. I’ll be truly alone. Fedorov pushes past me, gun in hand, his shirt still unbuttoned. I follow behind him.

“Please don’t kill him!” I plead but he pays me no mind.

Everybody snaps to attention at the sight of a disheveled and even more poorly groomed than normal Fedorov.

“Where is the coward who ordered the retreat?” Fedorov asks, waving his revolver around in the air.

Nobody answers him, and he approaches Dadonov before grabbing him by the chest with his left hand.

“Was it you?” Fedorov asks in his face, his eyes narrowing.

“Answer me!” Fedorov shouts and cocks his weapon. He aims it at Dadonov’s face.

“He didn’t do it!” I yell out. Fedorov pushes Dadonov back before turning to me. “The Captain ordered the retreat before he was killed!”

“Well sergeant pussy should have unordered the retreat!” Fedorov snarls at me before turning and pistol whipping Dadonov in the face. He hits him hard enough to knock him into Smirnov, who catches him.

“MY authority is SUPREME!” Fedorov barks at Dadonov who is holding his face. He’s bleeding from his mouth. “NOT your dead Captain.”

“NEVER defy my orders again!”

Fedorov waves his gun around again, pointing it at each one of us as he talks.

“You will all be punished for your failure.” Fedorov says coldly. “The seven of you will take on the workload of your whole platoon! NOW FUCK OFF!”

Fedorov grabs me by my sleeve as everyone else scurries away.

“You’re coming with me.”