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The day began innocently enough, the same way storms start from what is otherwise nice, unassuming weather. The front, sweeping in to shake up the atmosphere, arrived in the form of a phone call.
The four Russians were sharing a table for lunch like they always did, exchanging the usual banter when Tachanka stood to excuse himself for a short while. Once he was back, phone in hand, his features were stiffer and his eyes mirrored the cyclone of heavy, pressured emotions. He stared at the device for a little longer with a sullen look before pocketing it and doing his best to resume conversation where he’d left off. It was a total failure.
Tachanka was confused why his comrades were suddenly inquiring about his wellbeing, mixing soft concern with thinly veiled threats towards whoever dared to make one of their own so upset. It wasn’t a clear show of sadness, but for guys who knew each other so well, seeing the man who was normally the most easygoing among them tense up and wear a forced smile was more than enough to tip them off.
In the end none of them succeeded and Tachanka ended up leaving without even finishing his meal, adding another alarming detail to the growing list. The three remaining at the table shared some knowing looks.
“So it’s family-related,” Glaz concluded, the other two nodding.
“Who’s going to pester him about it first?”
“It’s about time I took him to the bar again,” Kapkan volunteered. “He’s always the chattiest there anyway.”
“Sounds good. Report to us in the game room after. If you don’t get sidetracked, that is,” Fuze said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ah, nothing.”
“No way that shot lands,” Glaz exclaimed. “Rewind. Yeah, see? We know what caliber he uses now, and with that rifle? Yeah, pure luck.”
They did know the caliber, even though it was only revealed later in the movie. This had been the third time they rewound to almost the very start, each time with Glaz having something new to say.
Fuze was incredibly amused. His teammate had never been super chatty during movies, but he had a hunch Glaz would have a lot to say about this one, since it focused on a sniper and featured a lot of questionable combat practices.
“So you mean to say you wouldn’t hit that shot?” Fuze taunted.
“Of course I would.”
Their conversation was cut short by the door flying open, an unsteady Kapkan waddling into the room and faceplanting on the empty armchair.
“So, how was the evening?” Glaz asked, earning a lifted middle finger. “Wow, rude.”
“I got nothin’,” Kapkan mumbled.
“You got hammered,” Fuze pointed out, quickly getting flipped off as well. “So no info?”
“None. We kept drinking more and more but he didn’t spill a single fuckin’ word about what’s with him.”
Glaz leaned back into the couch, happy to take a break from the movie which had started getting on his nerves. “Maybe we should give his family a call. I think I still have Olga’s number saved.”
Fuze blinked at him. “Why do you have his ex-wife’s number?”
“I’m a handsome young man, of course I have the lady’s number.” Fuze’s elbow dug into his side hard, and even Kapkan reached over to give a clumsy smack onto his arm. “Okay, okay, one time Sasha mentioned she got into mixing homemade paints and I was interested.”
“I guess call her, then, but don’t ask about him. Keep it casual and see if we learn anything.”
“Of course,” Glaz nodded. “I’m a professional. It should be around morning in their timezone, so let’s go for it.”
“There’s no need for any of that.” The group turned as one to face the figure standing at the door. No one remembered to close it after Kapkan stumbled in, so Tachanka had easily arrived unnoticed. Glaz slowly lowered the phone, like a criminal ordered to get rid of the weapon in hand.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ll tell you what’s up, because I already know you won’t leave me alone about it,” Tachanka sighed. He looked genuinely displeased about the situation, not like other times when they just teased someone enough to finish their embarrassing story. This was more serious, which was exactly why his comrades refused to let it go. “But you can’t interfere, alright? It is a family matter.”
Fuze and Glaz nodded solemnly, Kapkan only grunting from his face-down position, which he still hadn’t moved from. Tachanka hauled him up in one arm like he weighed nothing, plopped down into the armchair and laid the hunter across his lap. Kapkan stretched and cozied up against his belly like a satisfied animal, ready to snooze.
Tachanka began the story in a quiet, almost apologetic manner. “A few weeks ago I was on call with my kids. They were showing me some of the drawings they made, and Marina drew a rainbow. She’s always liked them a lot, and I asked her if she was excited to see a lot of rainbows when they come to Pride. She was, all three were, and Anton even picked out what shirt he wanted to wear, it was very cute. But they’re always cute. Yesterday, though, Olga called me while we were eating. She told me she didn’t want any of the kids coming to Pride.”
“What?” The surprise was on all of their faces. Even Kapkan managed a sleepy ‘huh?’ from his half-passed out state.
“She said she heard and read about the risky things that go on there. What with people getting half or fully naked, and the kink things, all that. Doesn’t want the little ones seeing such things. I tried to talk with her, but the more we argued, the more she came across as… well, not liking any of it. So I left it at that.”
“Oh.” Fuze searched his mind for anything more insightful to add. “A lot of people take their kids, though.”
“I don’t mind going with a shirt on this time, either,” Glaz said, a feeble attempt at lightening the mood.
Tachanka only shook his head with a sigh. “That’s only one problem. What sucks more is…” he trailed off for a moment, contemplating whether something so deeply personal really needed to be shared. He would’ve liked to have a few more drinks before divulging details like this. Then again, aside from his family, these were the people he was closest to. If there was anyone he could share it with, it was them.
“I thought so far that she didn’t mind the way I was. It wasn’t ever the reason we separated, and for a while she even seemed supportive. But the way she spoke now really made it sound like she wanted no part of that influencing the kids.” He rested an elbow on the armrest, leaning his chin into his fist while his free hand fiddled with the edge of Kapkan’s sleeve. “It’s part of me, though.”
“Right,” Glaz chimed up, a little more confident in what to say this time around. “It's one thing to not want small kids at Pride, but surely she doesn’t expect you to pretend to be a straight conservative to them?”
“I’m not sure now,” Tachanka said quietly, as if afraid anyone might hear. It was odd for him to be more cautious about speaking ill of the mother to his children than about being queer in a country like Russia.
“That’s some bullshit,” Fuze said. His voice was calm, but everyone here was very used to the subtle body language that told them the Uzbek was quickly giving in to rising emotions. “You are who you are. And the idea that it could somehow harm your children-”
Tachanka silenced him with a raised palm. “Is her belief, as a mother who wants to keep her kids as safe as possible.”
“But they are your kids, too.”
He didn’t answer, and the lack of what should’ve been an immediate agreement hung heavy in the air. Tachanka intended this to be a quick reassurance to his teammates that this was nothing but a personal disagreement, a small bump on the road that was managing a split family – but instead he only made himself more unsure. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling stress over the subject start to swell in his brain.
“It’s late,” he finally said. “Enough talking about this.”
The words that usually left no room for disagreement lacked both power and conviction.
“For now,” Glaz said. “Let’s get back to this later.”
Tachanka sighed once more, knowing there was no use employing any of the stubbornness he usually chided the others for. It was almost a relief.
“Fine. But no calling my family, alright?” He stood slowly, lifting the now quietly snoring hunter in his arms to carry him towards the bedroom.
“Deal.”
If deployments were good for taking one’s mind off the daily struggles of life, live combat could detach you from reality altogether.
Sometimes Tachanka wondered if it was healthy to find comfort in this. The deafening sound of gunfire, smoke tearing at your eyes and lungs, the dizzying impact of a bullet ricocheting off his helmet. It probably wasn’t, but the absolute focus it demanded and the ease of falling back on his training always helped clear his mind like nothing else out there.
A small alarm in his head reminded him of words Harry had once spoken to him, about how it was at least mildly concerning to regard family as a source of stress and life-threatening experiences as relaxation. Tachanka didn’t go as far as to agree, but the claim had stuck with him nonetheless.
He waited for a break in the torrent of gunfire, swinging his AR on top of the police car he was using as cover and unloading into the kitchen window of the family home. Ducking back, he waited together with the other operators, but there was no return fire.
“Sending in a drone,” the man next to him said. After a while the small camera confirmed the suspect was down, lying in a pool of blood on the tiled floor, his last breaths leaving him in a wet gurgle of bloody coughs. “Nice shot,” the operator patted Tachanka’s shoulder. “Good work, boys.”
Good work. As the adrenaline slowly faded, he thought of the armored vehicle that brought his unit to the scene. It served as makeshift cover for a mother and her two babies, whose father decided to tear himself from them in this violent manner.
The briefing had minimal information. Neighbors reporting an argument turned violent, police negotiations failing, an armed standoff. Special forces called in to help extract the family and pacify the scene.
He stood, exchanging a few words with the local policemen before circling back to Rainbow’s truck. An officer and a first aid worker were busy in conversation as they assisted the family out of the vehicle. The woman saw him, briefly pausing her efforts to soothe her distressed children. Her eyes conveyed a single question that everyone refused to answer for her until now: is he gone?
Tachanka nodded and she did the same in return. As she turned to walk towards the ambulance, he wondered if the man ever knew just what he had lost – what he had chosen to abandon. He didn’t know what were the reasons behind this decision, but he had no doubts they were selfish and horribly inconsiderate towards his loved ones.
Family should always come first. If his own views could bring harm to his children, drive a wedge in his family, maybe they were truly better off not knowing.
The base had been more peaceful lately with most of the operators away on deployments, but the remaining few still found a way to get on Thatcher’s nerves.
It was the evening before they were set out to join a Pride march in the big city. He wasn’t looking forward to the antics of a lively crowd, and he still wasn’t sure how the rest of the SAS managed to convince him. Being in the UK, he also ran the risk of family or past colleagues recognizing him, but they should know better than to call him out, unless they wanted his boot in their face.
He took a swig from his beer, setting it on the tiles of the staircase. Nobody ever used this side door to the building, since it branched from a kitchen nobody used and only led to a dirt path through some trees. Thatcher often sat on the steps with his feet in the grass, enjoying a quiet drink or smoke away from the busy interior.
Tonight the air was comfortably warm, filled with clumsy junebugs flying around and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of linden trees in full bloom. He sure missed the proximity of water, but this wasn’t so bad of an alternative.
Suddenly, the door next to him opened, revealing a rather nervous-looking Tachanka. The Russian glanced around for a moment before clocking the situation as a lone man’s late night brooding session, so he promptly excused himself and started closing the door.
“You can stay,” Thatcher said. He lit a cigarette and wondered why he felt like allowing someone to intrude on his precious alone time. Perhaps it was a little practice for all the bothering he’d have to endure the next day, or maybe this guy happened to be one of the few whose company didn’t drive him up the wall.
Tachanka plopped down on the concrete next to him, sighing like he had all the world’s weight on his shoulders. Thatcher was beginning to sense where this was heading, and now contemplated if he should make an excuse and take his leave. He still had two beers, though.
He grumbled under his moustache and shoved one of them in the other’s hand. “Here. Let’s get this over with, drink and spill what’s on your mind.”
Tachanka shook his head but accepted the beer, popping the cap with the same hand he held the bottle with. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Just need a bit to think stuff over.”
Great, Thatcher thought, all but rolling his eyes. Not only was this guy showing off, opening the beer with his thumb, he had the gall to take the drink and then not even say what the hell is wrong with him? This had to be some sort of cultural difference.
“Yeah, quit pussyfooting around. It’s clear as day that somethin’s wrong.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re not inside with the others, dancing shirtless on a table, for one.”
Tachanka chuckled, but the weary sigh it melted into led Thatcher to take another gulp of his drink. Damn these troubled bastards. At least he was finally getting started.
“Things are a bit strained between my family and I, that’s all.”
“Yeah, that’s not all, so keep going mate.”
Tachanka was now playing with the label of his bottle. “I was going to have my kids come visit me tomorrow. We’d go to Pride together, all of us. But their mother wants to hear none of it.”
“Aren’t your kids old enough to decide where they wanna go? Irina is turning eighteen this year.” The Russian looked at him with an undecipherable expression, so Thatcher held up his hands in defense and returned to nursing his beer. “Okay, just sayin’. Continue.”
Tachanka paused for a moment, clearly contemplating now that he got interrupted. “When did you become such a caring type, anyway?”
“I’m not. You just look so miserable that it’s making my beer taste off.”
“Hah, sorry about that.” Thatcher could’ve sworn a whole five minutes passed before he spoke again, and it was the most frustrating five minutes he’d ever spent listening to the ambiance of a beautiful summer night. He was trying to decide between saying something and abruptly throwing his empty bottle at a tree when the other finally continued.
“It’s one thing, you know, to not want them to see something risky. But after our last call, I’m starting to think she doesn’t want them to see me at all. That side of me. I understand her concern, I really do. They’re back home in Russia, things aren’t the same. But the more I’ve tried to do it right, the further I feel from them.” It was his turn to drink, and Thatcher observed with furrowed brows how he almost downed the whole thing in one go. Reluctantly, he handed the Russian the last beer too. “You know how it feels when you’re aware that you’re a father, but you don’t feel like one?”
Thatcher blinked and shifted his sitting position, buying himself some time to come up with an answer to this absolute curveball of a question. “Now, I’ve never been in a situation like that before. You haven’t seen much of them before either, though, have you? It’s not like this job allows a lot of time for family.”
“Don’t you ever miss yours?”
The Brit grunted in displeasure. It wasn’t a question he would’ve entertained at any other time, but this guy was under the weather. He observed the last drops of his drink swirling on the bottom of the glass, running in circles. He knew those circles all too well.
“Thinking about it now? I wish I’d picked seeing her over staying here.”
Silence fell over the garden as the late night drifted in with a cool breeze. The buzz of junebugs and rose beetles had been replaced with the rhythmic chorus of crickets.
Glaz didn’t know whose phone it was, but he swore to all he could think of that if the damned thing buzzed again, he was going to snap it in half. He’d just gotten back from a grueling assignment and he earned this sleep.
He heard it vibrate and groaned in frustration as he started fishing under the blankets. The other two men crammed onto the same mattress were equally displeased with his efforts, grunting and curling away as he searched for the device – Kapkan even kicked him.
At last, success. The offender was Fuze’s phone, and Glaz reasoned that if he had to be woken up, he at least deserved to know who was to blame for it. He pressed the lock button, squinting at the notifications. The latest one read, “Hey Darling! If you…”
A million thoughts raced across his mind like fireworks, and he glanced at the Uzbek who was propping himself up on his elbows to yawn and glare at Glaz in his tired, bed-headed glory.
“Is that my phone?”
Well, no going back now. “Who’s calling you darling? Besides us, I mean.”
Fuze woke up faster than Glaz had seen recruits do when their sergeant barged in with a whistle. He grabbed the phone out of his hand and peered at the screen.
“Oh. It’s from Kira. Sasha’s sister.”
“Why the hell do you have his sister’s number?”
“Can you two keep it down?” came Kapkan’s plea, muffled from under the pillow he was squeezing over his head.
Glaz repeated his question in an aggressive whisper, and Fuze shook his head. “It’s not what you think. We went to this Simson exhibition once and she was there too. We exchanged numbers in case she can make it to other events here, because she lives in Wales.”
“Uh-huh. So why does she call you ‘darling’”?
“She calls everyone ‘darling’!”
With his interrogation finished, Fuze unlocked the phone to finally see what he was even contacted about. “Oh. Where is Sasha right now?”
Glaz shrugged and Kapkan gave no answer. It was tough to admit, but the three of them have been failing at really improving the man’s mood, and despite their best efforts he’d been spending more and more time alone lately. They figured that he wouldn’t be around on the day they all went to Pride.
“Well, we have to get a hold of him ASAP. His kids are coming.”
“What?”
“They’re… apparently they were spending time at his sister’s and they convinced her to drive them here. In secret.”
Kapkan swore under his breath and tossed the pillow he was holding at the ceiling. It bounced and hit Glaz who deflected it with an elbow. “Call him then.”
“We have to start getting ready anyway if we want to join the others for the march.”
The hunter grumbled but relented, figuring that the other two having to climb over him to get out would be a definite end to his last minute napping anyway.
They were all dressed by the time Fuze gave up on calling, dropping his shoulders in defeat. “He’s not picking up. But he has to be around the base, right?”
It really should not have taken three members of a special forces team as long as it did to scour a base they knew, but in their defense, Tachanka seemed to have made it his goal to be difficult to reach that day.
The three were combing the small forest as a last resort, just about ready to accept that he’d left after all when, stumbling out of the treeline, they spotted their target sitting calmly on a staircase.
“Huh, I didn’t even know we had a door on this side,” Glaz noted, which served as an alright conversation starter. Tachanka raised his head, seemingly roused from deep thought and mildly surprised to see anyone coming to get him. Or perhaps he was simply intrigued to see his three teammates adventuring in the backyard for whatever reason.
Fuze didn’t care that much about easing their comrade into things, knowing Kira already messaged twice since about how close they were to arrival. “Sasha, you’ve got to come with us to the city. If we go soon, we can still make it to the start of the march.”
The man chuckled and cast his gaze downward. “Sorry guys. I’ve already decided I’m not going this year.”
“You have to,” Kapkan said, trying to honor Kira’s request for keeping it a surprise, but this wasn’t going to be simple. “The SAS guys even convinced Thatcher to go.”
Tachanka only shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“Ah, fuck it,” Fuze declared, and started dialing. Tachanka waited patiently, now having an inkling that something was going on. A few seconds later someone picked up, and Fuze requested that the phone be handed “to them.”
Then, the device was shoved into Tachanka’s hand, who stared at the caller screen for a moment, clearly wondering why Fuze had his sister’s number saved in his contacts, then finally putting it to his ear.
“Irina?” He exclaimed in surprise, looking around at the other three for an answer. “You’re… your siblings too? But why are you…?” There was a long pause, and as the three Russians waited in silence, they could only speculate what was spoken on the other end of the line. Whatever it was, it worked like magic for what they had been trying their hardest to remedy with no success: it began to iron out the deep wrinkles of worry that had been growing on their teammate’s face for the past few weeks.
When he laughed, Kapkan saw a tear fall from his eye. “Of course darling. Of course you’re still my children. I love you, okay? And I always will. Don’t let anything make you think otherwise.”
The three exchanged looks clearly thinking the same: had Olga been telling their kids things like that? But Tachanka seemed to understand their concern and held up his free hand in dismissal. “Yes. Yes, papa will meet you there. But I have a request, okay? We’ll just look at the parade from afar, alright? There’s a very nice ice cream parlor on a second floor, where we can stay cool and see everything. What? Of course you can have ice cream. Three scoops is way too many for you! But fine, just this once. Can you hand the phone back to Kira? Thank you sweetie.”
He paused, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and composing himself before speaking again. “Olga is gonna kill you, you know. Yeah. No, we have to tell her. Even if- yeah, she’s gonna ask. And Marina loves talking about her adventures. Yeah, thanks, I came up with it just now, hopefully it’s a good enough compromise. Yeah, I’ll call you when I get there. And Kira? Thank you.”
As he lifted the phone from his head, the others briefly heard the voice crackling in the speaker, yelling something about how her brother really owed her one for driving all the way down here on such short notice, then the line went silent.
Tachanka stared at the dark screen for a while longer in much the same way as he had been back at that shared dinner. He laughed to himself, short and bittersweet as he made the painful admission: “I.. made them think I don’t love them anymore. Because I haven’t been around. I really had them worried. It’s… I fucked up.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but it’s about half an hour to get there, so we really need to get going,” Glaz said.
Fuze straightened his posture. “I can make it fifteen.”
“We’re not letting you drive.”
“Come on, less talking, more walking!” Tachanka gestured at them to follow him, marching ahead with a now animated expression. “We’re taking the big truck. So of course, I drive. Ah, where did I leave the keys though?”
Kapkan silently offered the keys for Tachanka’s own car and the two shared a look as the other defender recognized that they were all counting on him changing his mind. How could he not, if everyone was going to such lengths for him?
He took the items with a small smile pulling on his lips, his heart much lighter now that the skies were clearing up. The only remnants of the storm were puddles, reflecting the brilliant colors above.