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Maks woke up to Boris shaking his shoulder, like every morning for the past 100-whatever days. At least now Kyiv was stable enough for him to get a good nights sleep most nights. He smiled blearily up at his friend as he announced “Rise and shine, sleepyhead! You should be excited, My namesake is coming today, remember?” That's today? Right. Of course. “Thanks for reminding me, silly.” Boris looked too excited for having been up all night. “With the way you're smiling, you'd think that you were disappointed at not having to be in these meetings.” As Boris laughed the laugh of someone who could sleep through the usually overly loud meetings, Maks got out of his cot and headed for the showers. As he entered, he glimpsed the President heading into his office, clad only in a small towel. At least I won't have to try to wake him up and potentially walk in on him and The Giant being 'friendly' he thought. Not that he minded, he reminded himself as he lathered up. He just didn't like interrupting people in those situations—and the President was a lot happier and calmer since Koshovyy had moved in. A happy Supreme Commander-in-Chief meant less chance of him going to the front lines, which was also fine by Maks. Not that he hadn't complained a bit about being stuck on Bankova instead of being on the front lines...but he did also have an important job. Those death squads needed to be planned for after all.
After he was washed and dressed, he glanced at his watch. 0615. Perfect. Enough time to have breakfast before the official handover briefing with the night shift. It should be brief—he hadn't had to be woken up even once, after all. He knew that Petya was a good night-shift commander. The increased sleeping time was proof of that. Maks was running the days schedule through his head (strategy meeting, meeting Boris Johnson outside (and he had to double check to see if there'd be another walk through the streets), diplomatic meetings, military needs meetings, farewells, then a video call with the First Lady and their children). He had heard that she was OK with the whole sleeping arrangements—both Yermak and Koshovyy had assured him of that, at their latest meeting of the 'Care and Feeding of Vova' committee. As long as they were all all right with it, then so was he. He thought everybody else on the guard detail would feel the same. Then, as he rounded the corner into the cafeteria, he was proven wrong. “...could hear those faggots sodomizing each other all night. The noises! Disgusting, I tell you. Especially from the Zhid-in-Chief. I can't believe he was ever elected. Must be all the money they're supposed to have.” said someone “I agree. What's more, the Bible specifically says that 'you shall not lie with a man as with a woman.' The Sixth Commandment also forbids adultery. I fear the President is doomed to burn in hell, for sodomy, for homosexuality, for adultery, but also for being Jewish. They are responsible for killing Christ the Lord.” responded another. Maks managed to stop before either of the speakers saw him. His mind was swirling. What. The. Fuck. Did I just hear? How could I have gone so long without realizing that we had such people here, protecting the President? He allowed himself a smile—he had won some money on guessing when they would actually give in and sleep with each other. Boris coulda said something about that part. He almost missed what came next. “...shouldn't be allowed to lead. How can any good Ukrainian or Christian be able to follow a Zhid sodomite? It is against the law, at least for us it is. He should be held accountable in front of a court-martial. If not, then we should take care of them ourselves. After all, we will be judged on the Last Day for our sins.” Now Maks was getting angry. Not that he was gay—his wife and kids were proof of that. But his little brother was—and couldn't even marry his Oleksandr! To hear people that he had fought beside in those first frantic days talk this way was disgusting. Maks was self aware enough to know that everybody had their prejudices. As long as they didn't get in the way of being a decent person or doing a good job, Maks didn't really care. These guys were well over that line. Plus, that last statement came perilously close to mutiny, not to mention treason. Right. Let's see who these two idiots are.
He turned the corner, and saw Artem Ivanovych and Oleh Ihorovych, two private first classes who had been on Bankova from the beginning. They'd been on the day shift until Artem had turned up drunk one time too many and Oleh had stated a preference for the quieter shift; he had wanted to continue some online seminary courses. I'm not totally surprised that it was Oleh who brought up all that Biblical stuff; he's always been overly serious about religion. But Artem? How long has he thought like this? These questions and more churned through his mind as he walked up behind the two men. He didn't know how they hadn't heard him come in....but they hadn't. He coughed, then said “What is this you are saying about the President?” The two privates choked on their coffee. Then they were up, standing at attention, and gaping at him in confusion. “Well? I'm waiting for an explanation.....” He was furious, and now frustrated. If he had been caught saying something he shouldn't, Maks would have been stammering out a explanation immediately. Then Artem Ivanovych took a breath. “Staff Sergeant Donets, you're up early!” Maks just stared at him, waiting. Oleh Ihorovyh then took a turn. “Staff Sergeant, we were just discussing illegal and immoral behaviour, and how to punish those responsible. There is nothing wrong with that, is there? You always told us to uphold the laws and help law enforcement. They're busy now so....”
At that, Maks exploded. “YOU. ARE. TALKING. ABOUT. THE. PRESIDENT. OF. UKRAINE. The Supreme Commander-in-Chief! The man who is leading us in our defense against the Ruscists! Being gay or a member of the LGBTQ community is NOT ILLEGAL. Having sex with men is ALSO NOT ILLEGAL. Is that clear?” Without waiting for a response, he continued. “Even if you don't agree with the President's behaviour, it is NOT YOUR PLACE to make comments like what I just heard. Not to mention your last comments about 'taking care of them YOURSELVES? What, exactly, did you mean by that?” This time he did stop for an answer. Artem spoke up. “Faggots are an insult to all true men, all true Christians, all true Ukrainians. They deny our future by not having children. There are lots of servicemen who agree with us. These degenerates do not have any place in the military or the government. They need to be dealt with. There are others who will help this cleansing. Why, I heard even General Zaluzhniy would”
“I would what?” came a voice from behind Maks. He had a fleeting glance of the two idiots' faces turning white as he wheeled around and found himself facing Valerii Feodorovych himself. How long has HE been there? He drew himself to attention and saluted. The General returned the salute. “At ease, Staff Sergeant.” He then turned his attention to the privates. “I'm still waiting for an answer.” Oleh recovered first. “You would agree with us that faggots and Jews have no place in our military or our government and that if they do not resign, the military should make sure that they are removed. By force if necessary.” “I see. And did I hear that you were talking about the President and his old colleague in particular?” “Yes, sir.”
General Zaluzhniy nodded, then stared at the privates for a while. “You're wrong. Wrong in general—it doesn't matter who people sleep with or what they worship. You are VERY wrong about what the military should do. If we are given lawful orders, we obey. We DO NOT effect regime change. That is what dictatorships do. We are a democracy. Finally. You are also wrong in your belief that I would agree with you. I do not. Never did and never will.” He shook his head. “You disappoint me. I thought that all the soldiers that were assigned here were fine, upstanding men who were happy to protect the constitutional, legal government of our great country at its time of crisis.” He then looked at Maks. “Staff Sergeant Donets. You are their superior?” Maks nodded, unsure of what this meant. The General continued. “I know that usually you would be in charge of punishment. However, given what I heard—and I heard more than you think—I would like to take care of these two miscreants personally. You will have replacements for them by the end of the day. Is this acceptable?” Maks nodded at once. “Yes sir, that is acceptable. Could you also let me know what their punishment is, for our records?” “Of course. Good job, Staff Sergeant. You handled this well. Leave the rest to me.” Then he looked at the privates. “Right. You two. Follow me.” Then he turned and walked away. Artem Ivanovych and Oleh Ihorovych looked sort of sick, but followed. Well. That was....interesting. God bless General Zaluzhny. Maks shook his head. He had always admired the General since they served together in the Donbas, back when Maks had just finished boot camp. Now he respected him even more, as a man as well as a general.
The rest of the day went more smoothly than Maks had thought possible. He'd had his coffee and only been a few minutes late to the handover meeting. He had glossed over the happenings in the cafeteria, saying only that the two privates had been caught saying the wrong things and would be dealt with. There was some discussion between him and Petya about the implications of the nocturnal activities of the President. He had smiled internally at Andriy Borisovych assuming that the President had hemorrhoids, and at Minister Kuleba's reaction. The meeting with Prime Minister Johnson went as expected, beyond Boris wondering out loud why the President was limping and not sitting a bit too much. But Maks was a good protector, and didn't let his feelings show. When Andriy Borisovych came back from some errands in the afternoon and talked to the President, Maks had to really restrain his laughter. Took you long enough to figure it out, Yermak.
Just before he went off duty, he was summoned to Andriy Yermak's office. He knocked on the door, then went in after being invited. He saw not only Andriy Borisovych but also General Zaluzhny there. They smiled and told him to sit. When he settled himself, the General began. “I must commend you, Staff Sergeant...and scold you. You were very restrained with how you dealt with those privates this morning. They are to be held for court-martial on charges of spreading race-based hate, conspiracy to commit murder and attempted treason. Your testimony may be required.” Maks nodded, not surprised at the talk of court-martial, but kind of at the charges—they were serious. “We've been impressed with you generally. You'll be promoted to Master Sergeant at the next available opportunity. But to be honest....with all the paperwork we'll have to do now...it might have been easier for you to have shot the bastards.” Maks blinked at that. Then Andriy Borisovych spoke. “Thank you Maks. I knew that you were a good person before this, but now I know you're more than that. I'm inclined to keep news of this between the three of us for now...no need to worry Vova since you and the General have dealt with it. Now that you know—do you have any suggestions for how we can keep the President and Yehven Viktorovych happy and safe?”
Maks considered. “First off, I'll talk to Petya and we'll do a deep dive into the other guards to see if anybody else is of the same mind. Other than that, if it's all right with you, sir, let me think on that for a while. It's been a long day.”
Andriy nodded. “Fair enough, and good point about re-screening the others. Make sure both General Zaluzhny and I get the results. You'll want to let your family know about the promotion. And do think about it. After all, those of us on the Committee on the Care and Feeding of Vova need to keep him happy, and his giant out of the news.”
Maks nodded. “Yes sir!” then, after permission from the General, left to go call his wife. Master Sergeant! The money would be nice. Then he remembered....he had to find Boris. His winnings awaited, and maybe a new wager on who would figure it out next. Boris first, then Petya. Sleep would have to wait.
Six Months Later
Maks looked up from his paperwork when the knock came. “Come in!” he said. When General Zaluzhny came in, Maks was up like a shot. “General! Welcome! What can I help you with?” The General was somber. “Thank you, Master Sergeant. I'll be brief, I know you want to go be with your family, now that you've finally gotten some leave. I wanted you to know what I just learned. Artem Ivanovych and Oleh Ihorovych pled guilty to all counts. No testimony from you will be needed.” Maks let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. “Thank you for informing me, General. What happens now?” “They're heading to prison for a long time. I doubt their fellow inmates will be overly friendly.” Maks nodded. “Sounds good, sir. Thanks for letting me know.” “Anytime, Master Sergeant. Anytime. Thank you for all that you've done in this. With men like you, we can't lose.” General Zaluzhny turned to go, and then...”Slava Ukraini!” “Heroiam Slava!” Maks responded, automatically. Shaking his head, he got back to work, and dismissed the privates from his mind. Long may they rot. He had a war to win.