Of Putin, Rasputin and Love

Of love and betrayal and the hope of peace in Ukraine, How many more must die?

         "King Lear was a demented old fool," said Vladimir Putin to his lover Alina Kabaeva, coming out of the Moscow Theatre. His cloaked form and the black-suited bodyguards that crowded around him hid him from the eyes of idle spectators.

         "Because he made all the wrong decisions and listened to flatterers rather than those who told him the truth?" asked Alina, her eyes shining.

         "Yes, but the play does not account for those little decisions by which he must have surrendered his sanity to a life of ease and self-indulgence. He abandoned his kingdom to a bunch of deceptive women and he failed to hear the truth from the only daughter he could trust to tell him it. What kind of ruler would do such a thing?"

         "Not you, my darling Tsar Vladimir," said Alina with a kiss.

         Putin was interrupted by an advisor, who drew him to one side. He watched Alina walk on, a little annoyed that once again matters of state had interrupted his time with her. It was one of the few moments in a busy schedule where he got to feel human again.

         The advisor whispered in Putin's ear, "Alina's cousin, Captain Georgy Orlikova, was killed in action yesterday in the Donbas. She has not been told yet."

         Putin nodded thoughtfully, "I want a detailed narrative report. If he died a hero, he gets a medal. Either way, the final account I give Alina will present him in a favorable light."

         He walked on, grabbing Alina's hand and kissing her on the cheek, as he caught up with her.

         

The following day at the Kremlin, Putin was in a meeting with some trusted advisors. Principle among these, but unknown to the rest of the world, was Josef Beria. The head of the army, the finance minister, the Patriarch of Moscow, Kirill, and FSB Chief were also there. The discussion was on the sustainability of the war in Ukraine.

         The army chief said, "We can indefinitely sustain a military campaign. We have the manpower, the Soviet stockpile and the military-industrial capacity as well."

         The FSB chief chimed in, "There are no credible threats to the regime. Regardless of outcomes, or how long this war takes, you have the presidency for life."

         The Finance Minister added, "We have unlimited natural resources and large and growing markets in India and China; the infrastructure to supply these grows daily. Global warming is our ally, melting the permafrost and opening up vast tracts of land for agriculture, mining and habitation. The economy continues to grow through this war and the Western sanctions."

          Kirill said, "It is God's will to restore Russia's Empire."

         Putin noticed Josef's smirk at that last comment. He had not yet spoken.

         "What do you think, Josef?" Putin asked.

         His friend paused before speaking and Putin could see he did not share the other's opinion.

         "Well?" Putin urged his friend.

         Finally, Josef spoke, "This war is not going well. We can sustain the fight indefinitely. But I do not know whether it is worth the human cost, nor do I believe this is God's will."

         "You told me you believe in the vision of a greater Russia and the restoration of our former glory?" said an annoyed Putin.

         Josef replied, "I love the vision, but maybe our desire for power blinds us to the reality here. The people of our old empire do not want a new Russian Empire, and with Western support, can sustain this fight indefinitely. We are therefore stuck in an endless, bloody war of attrition. With Trump's victory, the hope was that he would sabotage Western efforts for us, but despite the leverage we have over Trump, Zelensky is still in the fight, and America is still giving support. If we release the photos, he or his successor will unleash hell on earth for us, so they are the nuclear option that we should not use. European members of NATO, worried that America no longer cares, are investing in their militaries again and are now fielding better-equipped militaries with a far better fighting mentality than before. Their support for Ukraine looks absolute. So why are we sending our young men to die now? For the vision of some fake Rasputin." He nodded at Kirill, who scowled at him.

         Putin raised an eyebrow, "We are fighting a war for the future of our nation and Christian civilization. Grand visions require sacrifices that we should all be prepared to make. We prove our worth by what we overcome. It will be a purer Russia that wins this fight. "

         "Russia is already depopulating without this war. We need people to work the fields and mines and to fill our vast, endless spaces with life. Our officers and our special forces are the flower of Russian youth, the bravest and most noble of our people and cannot be replaced."

         Putin paused, shocked at his friend's determination. "Josef, be careful, you are my friend and I value your opinion, but know that my mind is set on victory in this war. I will not tolerate dissent on this."

         "My friend, I value you too highly to speak anything but the truth," replied Josef.

         Putin felt his anger rise, "No, I want you to back down, you need to say the words, Josef."

         There were tears in Josef's eyes as he hung his head and looked away, "I cannot, for the sake of Russia, and for your sake, I cannot back down."

         Putin rang a bell and gave the order to the three soldiers who entered the room. "Place Josef Beria under armed house arrest and remove him from my sight."

         Some days later, in the Sochi Penthouse, his lover's home, with their three young children, Putin presented Alina with a three-page report relating to Captain Orlikov's death. Orlikov died a hero, leading his men across a Ukrainian minefield. Orlikov would get his medal, but Putin knew that would not console Alina.

         He watched while she read the report. He felt sorry for her and it tore him up to see her weeping. She read it, wiping the tears away as she did so, enabling her to read the text. The paper was soaked with tears by the time she finished.

         He took her into his arms and she buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He knew at this moment that she was to him all Russia. Russia weeping for her children, for those that it had lost to war. Russia, with all its darkness, mystery, deep emotion, endless vast vistas, and infinite capacity to endure pain. It was his privilege to hold her, just as he held the land in his strong arms. She was safe and secure in the arms of her benevolent protector. When she finally broke the embrace, he took some tissues and cleaned up the snot and tears from her face. She was as beautiful now as the young gymnast that he had fallen in love with all those decades before.

         Finally, she sat down and, turning to him, said, "Lover, I need to speak my soul; my pain and my loss compel me. No one has told me to say these words; no one could tell me to contradict the man to whom I am devoted, body and soul."

         He nodded and waited for her words as he would a pronouncement from the very soul of all Russia. His country was speaking and she was its voice.

         "Lover, you are the best man to rule Russia, you are the one God chose. Brutal yet wise, hard but filled with love for this land and our peoples? I wish that you were always my Tsar and Tsar of all the Russians, but the death of my cousin has broken me. He was the best of us—a man of courage who died leading his men into battle. But now his blood stains the soil of a land that does not want us as its ruler. The flower of our manhood and the best fathers and husbands for the country's future are dying over there." Alina paused again to wipe her tears and to blow her nose.

         Then she continued, "Do we not already have enough land? Can we not measure our greatness by what we do with what we have? You are right about our historical claims, but is Kirill's vision of a greater Russia truly of God? You have pursued it with a noble heart at immense cost, but maybe sometimes God also speaks through events and maybe sometimes He listens to the prayers of those who are not Russian. Maybe they pray from hearts deceived, yet still, they nag Him like the man who knocked at midnight for a loaf of bread and would not let his neighbor rest until it was given to him. They overwhelm wisdom with a deluge of requests and He grants them respite despite His better judgment. Lover, tell me truly, could you survive a peace with Ukraine? My Tsar, I will support you no matter what you decide, but is it not time for peace?"

         He felt like he had been stabbed through the heart by her words. But this was not disloyalty, the decision was still his. She was not proclaiming this from the rooftops to the delight of his enemies. This was from her heart to his own and she would respect his deeper judgment no matter what. This came from love—love for all that he held dear, love for Russia, love for God, and love for himself. A bible verse he had once read and memorized as an atheist KGB colonel in Germany came into his mind

         "Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy. A sated man loathes honey, but to a famished man, any bitter thing is sweet."Prov 27:6-7

         The words had helped him over the years discern the true purpose of flatterers and to distinguish an honest man from a deceitful one. Though he had executed many honest men who had not shown due respect for his position, even when they were right. The words of a friend come from a loyal relationship. These can be trusted. Alina's words can be trusted and he knew that they came from the deepest part of her soul because her soul is Russia and that was his soul also. He had ignored its screams and its sorrows for too long, but now is the time to listen. His thoughts strayed to Josef, who had said what Alina had said to him with the same dignity and courage that she was showing now. His thoughts strayed to Kirill, and suddenly he saw him for what he was: a flatterer who played on his master's greatest weakness, his insatiable desire for power. It was this will to power that propelled him to greatness, but it also blinded him to the reality of the war. Josef and Alina were his only true friends; they knew he killed those who crossed him, but both of them still staked their lives on saying this one thing.

         Kirill's vision of a greater Russia fitted Putin's historical memory of the USSR and his hope to be the Tsar of a restored Russian Empire. But was this truly God's vision? If he was honest, he could not claim that. His friends were telling him the truth. If Alina and Josef's voices can be trusted, then he needs to make some changes. He came to a decision. He picked up his phone and dialed

         "Release Josef! Tell him that I will meet with him tomorrow in Moscow. We need to talk. Arrest Kirill and put him somewhere dark and gloomy." He stared out at the dawn of a new day, reaching with red rays over the Sochi skyline.

         He hugged Alina and she started sobbing again. He also cried as he held her. The future no longer seemed clear to him, hard times were coming, but in this, as in all things, he would act for the good of the land he loved.

SURVEY

Quotation Inspiration: Official Contest  (ASR) Use the quote provided to write a story and win big prizes! #1207944 by Writing.Com Support

W/C: 1962 at time of contest

Notes

PROMPTQuote Prompt for April 2024:
"A good friend will always stab you in the front."
— Oscar Wilde
The task is simple: Write a short story using the prompt above as inspiration!
Notes: Trump won the election and is convinced he can make some kind of deal that will end the war quickly. But in practice, this has proven difficult as neither side wants to make any concessions to the other.
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