The Woman With Red Hair

By the time I finished harvesting fingers, I was famished.  I had been eating at survival levels for the past two days and it would be a 30 kilometer hike to the evacuation point.  I was not sure if I had the energy to hunt or even gather insects.  As I stood in front of the burning huts, I was certain there was food in there somewhere.

 

They had been burning for an hour.  The one with the broken window was already completely consumed by the flames.  Two others were probably too far gone for me to try to enter.  But somehow, the door had closed on the other one.  The exterior walls were burning, and the inside was no doubt filled with smoke, unbearably hot, and without oxygen.  But the lack of oxygen would also retard the flames.  I was hoping there would be an icebox or cooler inside that contained food.

 

The heat had caused the structure to expand and warp.  The door would not open.  I picked up an SKS one of the dead men had dropped.  I fired in a line down the middle of the door.  A couple of kicks with my boot and the door split in half and fell into the room.  The smoke hit me in the face.  I backed off and went down to my knees to get away from it. 

 

After a fit of coughing, I shone my flashlight into the hut.  The smoke was too heavy, I couldn’t see anything.  I went to the back of the building.  There was plenty of slushy snow that had been partially melted by the fire.  I made dense, hard snowballs and threw them through the window.  Busting out the glass allowed the air to circulate and the smoke cleared somewhat.

 

The extra air also stoked the fire, now the sheets and pillows on the cots were starting to flame up.  But I could see a cooler on the table.  An old fashioned one, made out of aluminum.  The thick clothes that protected me from the cold would also protect me from the heat inside the building, long enough for me to retrieve the cooler.  I put on my goggles, took a deep breath and held it, and ran into the hut.

 

I could feel the heat from the surface of the cooler through my gloves.  I tossed it on the ground and piled snow on top of it.  Like the door to the hut, the heat had warped the lid on the cooler.  It took my pry bar to work it off, like it was a can of paint.  The heat had melted the ice.  Everything was wet.  But the water kept most of the heat away from the food.  There were three whole fish, probably caught in the pond behind me.  A nearly full container of soy milk.  And a half dozen hard cooked pickled eggs. 

 

I consumed half of the milk and the eggs, then stowed the rest in my pack.  I would eat more later.  Now, I needed to get moving.  Sunrise was coming and I had no idea if there were other people in the area.  I had been making a lot of noise.  I packed my gear and retraced my steps towards Siberia.

 

I knew my team would be searching for me, on the other side of the border.  They would have already found the two men I shot in the initial encounter.  When I turned off the radio, they probably assumed I was dead, or had been captured.

 

I was still on the Chinese side, just after dawn, when it was time for the daily call.  I climbed to a high point near the trail and turned on the radio.  I sat and ate more of the food I had salvaged. 

 

When I made contact with the helicopter, I let them know I was safe, and that it would take me a day of walking to get to the evacuation point.  I imagined the look on the commander’s face when I sent my coordinates and he noted where I was relative to the border.  I had decided not to lie about what I had done.  I knew I was in enough trouble as it was.

 

That became more apparent the next day, when I reached the trailhead.  As I approached the UAZ, I realized Colonel Kashuba was one of the men waiting.  I had time to tell my story on the two hour ride back to the outpost.

 

I didn’t sugarcoat it.  I confessed to intentionally ignoring my orders.  I told Kashuba the whole story.  I did omit one detail, as I was unsure how I would explain it.

 

Kashuba said little while I was talking, except to ask an occasional question.  When I finished, he had a disturbed look on his face.  He cleared his throat, and spoke softly.  “So, Evan, I have one more question.  How is it that both of the men we found on the trail are missing the fifth finger on their right hand?”

 

I pulled one of the fingers out of the vest.  “I’ve got ten more.”

 

The colonel went pale.  He said, “Why don’t you put that back in your pocket.”

 

He continued.  “Evan, I have underestimated you, and overestimated you.  I have been in the military for 19 years.  You are the biggest mistake I have ever made.  I see know that letting you go out on your own was asking too much.  Despite your skills, you are mentally unstable and cannot be trusted.  And you have to know how angry I am that you disobeyed orders.  Your uncle would be disappointed.  Do you think he would do something like that?”

 

Shame and guilt had already been pouring through my head on the long hike out of the forest.  The look on Kashuba’s face and the tone of his voice cut like a knife.  He was a good man, he had put his faith in me, and I had let him down.  What he said about Eastwood was absolutely true.  His words rubbed against me like salt in a wound. 

 

“For starters, I am demoting you to private.  And, until further notice, you will resume wearing the railroad track.  I will consider further action later.  If you think this is harsh, bear in mind that men have stood in front of firing squads for less egregious acts.  The fact that eleven of the enemy are dead is in your favor.  It is not your results I am dissatisfied with.  It is your tactics.  The end does not always justify the means.  But in your case, I am not ready to give up, yet.”

 

The section of railroad track was just as heavy as I remembered.  The cuff chafed my ankle as much as the first time I wore it.  But no one teased me now.  Kashuba had ordered me not to talk about what happened, not one word.  Somehow everyone knew.  The men treated me like I was the quarterback on the football team. 

 

And they left me alone, when I constructed the crude kiln on top of the hill behind the compound.  I wanted a hot fire.  Gathering the rocks and the wood was slow and painful with the railroad track on my shoulder.   It took hours to build up the bed of red hot embers. 

 

Kashuba had ordered me to divest myself of my latest hobby.  I threw the fingers in the fire and watched the flesh burn off. 

 

After the embers died down, I could still see the bones.  They were charred but intact.  I smashed them with the end of the railroad track, then ground the powder into the dirt with my boot.

 

My second stint with the railroad track ended after six days.  The colonel called me into his office, tossed me the key and said, “As of tomorrow, you will be officially back in business.  Rebels just destroyed five transmission towers north of the Sayano"Shushenskaya Dam.  The emergency shutoff on one of the turbines failed and it caught fire.  It will take weeks to replace the towers and re-hang the lines, and months to repair the turbine.  The dam itself is well guarded.  But the transmission lines traverse thousands of kilometers of rugged country.  The rebels were able to get in and out without being detected.  So now everyone central Siberia will have to make do with whatever emergency power they have, if any.”

 

“This time you will not be by yourself.  We will assemble an attack team.  Be here at 6am and we will begin discussions.”

 

“One other thing.  General Malikov will be flying in tomorrow.  I understand he is bringing someone with him, to meet you.  An Army psychiatrist, Lieutenant Colonel Shirinova.”

 

He paused to let that sink in.  Russian surnames have gender specific forms.  If this were a man, his name would be Shirinov.

 

“I understand she is quite attractive.  I suggest you bathe and shave in the morning.”

 

Attractive or not, I had no interest in talking to a psychiatrist.  I was willing to let what was roiling around inside of me to continue simmering.  I knew something was broken, but I didn’t want to be fixed.  As I had done many times, I fell asleep thinking about killing.  I was disappointed that I could no longer collect fingers.  I would have to come up with another hobby.

 

The next morning I was joined in the shower by my friend, Private Sadovnichy.  I said, “Hello, Emil.  What is on your agenda for the day?”  His answer surprised me.  “I will be at the same meeting as you.”

 

We were both surprised when Kashuba told Sadovnichy he was being promoted to corporal.  Everyone slapped him on the back.  Emil said “Thank you!” to the colonel over and over as they shook hands.  Kashuba smiled and said, “You may not be so happy with me after you hear your assignment.  You are now tasked with keeping Private Andreyevsky in line.  You will be with him 24 hours a day.  I will hold you personally responsible if he disobeys orders under your watch.”

 

Emil was outgoing, and never at a loss for words.  He raised his left arm and flexed his muscles.  He was a wrestler in school and was very strong.  He touched his bicep with the tip of a finger, smiled, and looked at me. “Fireworks Boy, from now on, this gun will be pointed at you.”  Everyone laughed, then we got down to business.

 

The Sayano�"Shushenskaya Dam is 1800 kilometers west of Ushmun.  Based on the pattern of recent attacks, these rebels were probably not retreating to China.  More likely, their base camp is somewhere in Mongolia, in the Urd-Herheyn mountains.  The peaks are as high as ten thousand feet.  The desolation and rugged terrain provide an unlimited number of places to hide.  And it is on their home turf.

But that provides an extra element of risk for them.  We will not need to cross an unfriendly border to search for them.  The government of Mongolia is aligned with the Soviet Union.  There are Soviet military bases in strategic places across the country.  Mongolia is viewed as a buffer between Central Siberia and China. 

 

My new team would make our headquarters in Ulaanbataar, 600 kilometers southeast of the mountain range where we would soon hunt.  It is the capitol and the largest city in Mongolia.

 

We had a good discussion that morning.  Although it would take time to give my crew the training they would need, I was already considering the advantages that come with numbers.  I was pleased that my friend Emil would be with me.  I trust him, and he is a brute of a man.

 

The planning session that first day ended early, shortly after we heard the helicopter land.  The rest of the crew were done for the day, while I met with General Malikov and Lieutenant Colonel Shirinova.

 

When I shook Malikov’s hand, I remembered how it felt when he hit me with it.  I reminded myself not to underestimate the slight man. 

 

Kashuba had not exaggerated.  Shirinova was a beautiful woman.  Tall, slender, with pale skin and red hair.  She smiled when I shook her hand.  But when we made eye contact, I got the impression she did not want to be here.

 

Malikov spoke. “Evan, I must say, you are the most unorthodox soldier I have ever known.  When I read our dossier on your uncle, I was skeptical.  Sometimes men exaggerate when they remember the details of combat.  However, I will not argue with results.  At the very least, Colonel Anthony was an excellent teacher.  I now see how the things I read about him could easily be true.”

 

“If there is an afterlife, and I have a conversation with your uncle, I will tell him he should have spent more time teaching you to follow orders.”

 

“Maybe I am out of line with that.  It is possible you simply cannot help yourself. That is why I have brought Lieutenant Colonel Shirinova.  She is a highly trained physician and specializes in counseling soldiers who have been traumatized in battle.  She has been reviewing your case.  Perhaps you can benefit from the skills she possesses.”

 

“She will be stationed at Ulaanbataar and you will report to her office for regular counseling when you are not in the field.  I suppose it would be pointless for me to order you to take your counseling seriously.  I have spent my adult life coming to terms with the fact that I cannot give my children orders like I do with my soldiers.  You, I consider to be my most disobedient child.  So I will leave it at this.  I have seen what the Lieutenant Colonel can do to help men cope with horrifying injuries.  I truly believe she can help you.”

 

“Your counseling with her will begin now.  Colonel Kashuba has volunteered his office for your first session.”

 

The woman sat behind Kashuba’s desk and motioned for me to sit.  She spoke. “Outside of counseling sessions, I will expect you to behave as any other enlisted soldier in the presence of an officer.  While we are talking privately, you may call me Irina.”

 

“I will start by telling you a little about myself.  I grew up an army brat.  My father was a quartermaster, he loved everything about being in the military.  And I grew up wishing to be like him.  He insisted that I get an education.  One thing led to another, and I attended medical school.  I joined the Army after I finished my training.  I have spent the past four years working with soldiers who have suffered terrible physical and emotional injuries.  The conflict in Afghanistan has taken its toll like any war.”

 

“I have read your personnel file.  I will tell you, I do not think you are anything like the soldiers I have worked with.  I told General Malikov I am unsure if my abilities apply to you in any way.  He asked if I knew of anyone who had such skills.  I was unable to provide an answer, so I am here.”

 

“Regardless, the best place to start will be for you to tell me about yourself.  How is it that a young man from America ends up in the middle of Siberia? Please take your time and tell me your story.”

 

I talked.  She listened.  I covered all the high points.  The accident that took my parent’s lives.  Growing up in Wales, Alaska.  Learning how to survive in the wilderness with my uncle.  Then, when Eastwood died, the craziness.  The darkness that led me to jail and drove me across the border into enemy territory.  That allowed me to become a cold blooded killer.

 

When I finished speaking, I was expecting questions, or some kind of analysis.  Instead, she reached down and opened the medical bag she had brought with her.  She pulled out a pair of hiking boots and said, “Evan, I would like you to show me the spot where you burned the fingers.”

 

The trail went uphill and had a number of treacherous spots.  It was obvious this was not the first time she had hiked in snow.  We stopped when we reached the pile of rocks. 

 

She spoke.  “What I am saying to you now is not as a doctor to a patient.  Or as a lieutenant colonel to a private.  I am just a woman speaking to a man.  Because I am in a bad situation, one I do not want to be in.”

 

“General Malikov is sincere in his hopes that I can help you come to terms with yourself and become a more reliable soldier.  But he has other ideas...”

 

She paused for a moment.  “He seems to think that one of your problems is that you need a girlfriend.  He made it clear it would benefit my career greatly if I would have sex with you.”

 

“Evan, I was born to do what I do.  I want to serve in the Soviet Army just as long as my father did.  The soldiers I work with need me.  I make a difference in their lives.”

 

“If the general is unhappy with how things go with you, my career will be over.  To make things more complicated, I have a fiancé.  You can imagine what he thinks of this.”

 

“I feel that I am in a minefield and it doesn’t matter which direction I step.”

 

“So I have decided.  When we are at Ulaanbataar, we will meet three times a week in my office.  These will be strictly professional counseling sessions, no monkey business.  Beyond that, regarding sex, I will leave it up to you.  I will not make the first move.  But I will not say no, if you do.”