The Russian

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story that takes place in an interrogation room during the Cold War. I give a little insight on my view of the war throughout the story.

Submitted: January 01, 2012

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Submitted: January 01, 2012




“How can I trust you?” he asked. Sergei was sitting firmly in his chair, gripping the bottom of his seat as he stared harshly into Agent Robinson’s eyes. The room was a typical room for interrogation; small, dark, and with a single table complete with a bright lamp and two chairs in the center. Robinson got up from his chair and started to slowly pace his side of the room. “The CIA will pay you,” said Robinson, “and we’ll guarantee your safety and protection from followers of Marxism and McCarthyism alike.”

Sergei was not sure about his decision. He was either to sell out the Soviet Union for money and protection from the U.S. government or sabotage America’s plans for a hydrogen bomb. Sergei knew where the plans were, courtesy of the KGB, but he also knew that if he successfully sabotaged the plans, the CIA would go on the hunt for him. Sergei knew that it was his duty as a spy, and he would be seen as a hero in Russia if he succeeded; however, Sergei knew firsthand of Stalin’s treachery and deception. If Sergei were to sell out the U.S.S.R, the Communists would show no mercy to him or his family.

Sergei Zakhuov, or George Klaus, as his alias was in America, knew that his family was poor and he could try and smuggle them out of Russia if he betrayed the Kremlin, but that would only out his wife and three children in danger. Sergei hated Stalin’s leadership, but still had hope for Lenin’s vision of the Soviet Union. Since his time serving on the frontlines against the German Nationalists, the SS, and the Wehrmacht, Sergei had dedicated himself to glorifying the Marxist vision of the world, but he could not trust his own comrades.

“What’ll it be?” asked Robinson. He lit a cigarette, and continued to pace. Sergei could see the smoke as it passed in front of the bright light of the lamp. “The United States government will use this as your pardon. Give us their plans and we will forget that you had anything to do with the Soviets. Help us, and we will guarantee you and your family’s protection. Just think about it; being able to start a new life and live the American Dream.”

Sergei was getting very nervous. There was no denying that Robinson was very good at persuasion. Sergei could feel the pressure in his head, and he continuously felt chills. His hands, still gripped to the bottom of the chair, were sweating like mad. Sergei tried to think, but his mind was empty. As he was thinking, he noticed the serenity; no noise inside or outside the room. Robinson was standing on the other side of the table, cigarette in hand, his tie loosened, and staring blankly at Sergei. Sergei felt sick in his stomach, but felt he needed to quickly make a decision.

Soon enough, the pressure was too much for Sergei to bear; he snapped. Sergei immediately darted out of his seat, flipped the table, jumped over it and rushed Robinson. He was still in shock of what Sergei had just done, and made no movement. Sergei grabbed him by his collar, took a swing at him, and then reached into his coat pocket and grabbed his pistol. He pushed Robinson away from him, and with a single shot to the head, killed him. Sergei could hear the security outside rattling the doorknob and pounding on the door. Sergei started to breathe rapidly. He looked at Robinson, and then looked at the gun in his hand. Sergei thought about his family, and in Russian, he said, “I am so sorry. Forgive me Anna.” He looked at the gun again, cocked it, and slowly raised it to the side of his head. He could feel the cold, metal barrel against his temple. In Russian, Sergei yelled, “Damn this world and damn this war!” The security, still trying to get in the room, heard a final pop, and then silence.


© Copyright 2018 Gabriel Benitez. All rights reserved.

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