Chapter 26
We buried Mikhail Verakov twelve days after I returned to Moscow. Like so many other Russian men, he died from lung cancer and pneumonia. Over the last few years, I had seen the close bond that had developed between Davey and this man, and so I wasn’t surprised at how hard Davey took the man’s death. Mika was not Davey’s real father, and Davey knew that, but he loved the man anyway for a variety of reasons.
Part of it had to do with the unconditional love that Mika had always given him. Even at its best, Davey’s relationships with his parents had always been conditioned by a variety of factors. They had certain expectations of him in every timeline, and he was constantly struggling with them in one way or another, even when they accepted him, and our relationship. He had to prove to them that he wasn’t a disappointment even though he was gay.
With Mika, there had been none of that. The old man had accepted Davey, or Sergei as he’d always called Davey, as Davey was, without condition. Davey did not have to do anything to please the man, or to be loved by the man. All he had to do was be there.
It was certainly a far easier relationship for Davey.
Davey spoke at the funeral, which was attended by a lot more people than we had expected. It wasn’t a religious service of course, and many of the people were dignitaries of the Soviet government. After the funeral, we even spoke a few words with the Secretary-General of the Communist Party, Mikhail Gorbachev. That was quite an eye-opening experience for both of us since we had rarely even seen the man before and certainly never spoken to him directly.
Davey and I didn’t speak about the future after the funeral, but rather I comforted him while he cried. I’d been there with him in my original timeline after his parents had each passed away, and knew he took these types of situations very hard. The future could wait while he grieved. We spent that night at Mika’s dacha out in the foothills instead of at our apartment. There, on the mantle over the fireplace, new pictures had been added in recent years, pictures of Mika and Davey, and even a few of me up there as well. In all of them, Mika’s lips were curled upwards.
“You have a visitor, Sergei.” Lina, Mika’s older housekeeper said on the morning of the third day. Mika’s driver was no longer around, but she was still here, taking care of the house and helping to fix our meals while we stayed. She was a widower, and her children were grown and had families of their own now. Her work here had been a semi-retirement for her, and I idly wondered what would happen for her now. For that matter, what would happen with this house?
“Who is it?” Davey asked in a soft voice.
“Comrade Maslyukov is here.” She responded.
“Please, bring him in.” Davey said quickly, turning from the picture on the fireplace and straightening his shirt. We were both wearing dark slacks, and Davey was in a white dress shirt while I was wearing a light green polo. Both of us straightened our hair a bit before heading down the stairs.
“Comrade Maslyukov, welcome.” Davey said formally as we came into the living room.
“Comrade Verakov, you have my condolences.” Maslyukov said with a short nod to Davey before he turned to me. “Comrade Breckenridge, you have honored our agreement over the last few years. I am here to honor my part now.”
“You are referring to the fact that Comrade Verakov was not really my father.” Davey said calmly and Maslyukov shot me an accusing glare. “Please, Comrade, I knew from the beginning that he was not. Yuri did not have to tell me anything. I think in the end, even he knew that I was not his other son, but it did not matter. Family is more than blood, sometimes. Mika needed family, and he was a good man who deserved to have a family. I was honored to give him that.”
“Interesting.” Maslyukov said as he sat down hard. Davey nodded and crossed to the small bar, pouring three shots of vodka and handing one to me before giving one to the older man. We toasted the memory of the departed and Maslyukov downed his quickly.
“I liked him the first time I met him, and knew he was a good man.” Davey continued his explanation calmly. “He seemed so lonely, and did not deserve that. When I saw how he was able to accept me as I am, without judgment, I knew I would give him what he wanted: a son.”
“This is a copy of his will.” Maslyukov said after he had digested Davey’s words. He took out a folded paper from his suit coat and handed it to Davey. “You will see that he has left you all of his possession. They are not as much as your American father has, but you can live comfortably in the USSR with this.”
“Are we still welcome here?” Davey asked. “It is a fiction that I am a son of the Soviet Union.”
“It is fiction, yes, but the records all say now that it is a fact.” Maslyukov shrugged. “If you wish to stay, if both of you wish to stay, you will be welcome. I am worried for the future.”
“Why?” I asked, speaking for the first time in this conversation. Maslyukov held out the tumbler he had emptied, and waited while Davey filled it for him. The older man downed it again and looked out the large windows behind us and motioned for both Davey and I to sit. We did, sitting next to each other on the couch.
“I fear the Union is crumbling.” Maslyukov’s voice was faint. When both Davey and I looked nervous he chuckled. “The listening devices were removed last year. Neither of you have said, or done, anything that our spies have disapproved. They were quite upset that you were not spies.”
“There were no military secrets for us to steal.” Davey shrugged and Maslyukov chuckled again.
“It is possible the American government has been looking in the wrong places for our secrets all these years.” Maslyukov stated in a sad tone. “I never thought to see the day when the Union would be crumbling. The Germans talk of reunification with the capitalist brothers. The European states talk of independence, and even the Baltic states are grumbling that they were once sovereign. I fear that only tanks and soldiers will keep them in the Union, and this is not the 1950’s. Gorbachev is not Kruschev, to crush them under his boots and force them to comply. As things stand now, the Union will not survive more than five years.”
“I would give it two at most.” I said, taking a risk. Maslyukov gave me a hard look and then nodded abruptly.
“That is a bet I will not take.” He grumbled. “You have proven to be quite intelligent, both of you.”
“Thank you.” Davey said.
“Sergei, I fear for what comes.” Maslyukov stated. “I wonder what will happen to the Rodina if the Union dissolves. Will we become capitalists only concerned about making more rubles and discard our principles?”
“That is a possibility.” Davey said with a frown. “Mika and I had many conversations about the dangers of unfettered capitalism. I do not agree with communism, I believe you know that.”
“Yes.” Maslyukov agreed. “Mika said you might make a socialist, but never a communist.”
“True.” Davey agreed bluntly. “Even socialism though, does not work, in my belief. It is more accurate to say I believe in controlled capitalism. A field where any man may achieve his dreams, but all have the chance to play the game.”
“Yes, Mika told me of this.” Maslyukov said with a shake of his head. “That is why I would ask you two to stay. You will never rise to a position like mine, or even that of Mika, but I would listen to your ideas as we struggle to keep the Union alive. Can you stomach that, even though you were born American?”
“What if the Union does not survive?” Davey asked with a raised eyebrow. “What then?”
“Then, you will help build a new Rodina.” Maslyukov said with a shrug. Before coming to Moscow, I’d have never expected to hear a Russian say something like this. Davey and I hadn’t spoken about the future, but he obviously had been thinking about it, and reached some decisions. I knew him, and could reason out what his thinking might be without having to talk it out. He knew I was always worried about the days after the fall of the Soviet Union. As Sean had said, my plans for trying to help from the outside had failed. Maybe working from the inside would see a different result.
The long range plans would be affected of course, but they had been centered on more than just the United States. They were not about setting up a third political party in the United States, or getting any one individual elected. No, the plans were about changing how people looked at the world, and about the role of government and the individual. It was about taking responsibility for ourselves as individuals, and as a society.
“I am willing to stay.” I said after we had all remained silent for a long time. Davey nodded, and Maslyukov nodded.
“Then I will see the two of you in my office next Monday.” Maslyukov as he stood up and prepared to leave. “We have much work to do.”
He wasn’t lying, either. There was a lot of work to do. Over the next few weeks, and months, we butted head with several different factors. First of course, was that this was still the Soviet Union, and its bureaucracy was filled with loyal communists. Gorbachev said he wanted private ownership, but those who had to implement such things considered private ownership anathema. Then there was corruption.
Corruption had always been a part of the bureaucracy. To one extent or another, it was always a factor no matter the form of government. That was why, in the United States, anti-corruption laws were so important. One of the reasons America’s form of government worked was because corruption was limited, kept under relative control. The fact that every year there was at least one corrupt lawmaker getting caught was a testament to how well the system worked, not necessarily to its failure. Failure was when corruption happened and was never caught.
In the more authoritarian USSR, corruption was far more rampant. Those in authority had more power, and in many cases investigators were either hamstrung in their ability to root it out, or had no interest. Blatant corruption of course was dealt with, and every so often the government would trot out an excessively corrupt bureaucrat as an example, but few of those in power feared being hauled off to prison.
The changing rules on property and business ownership meant that more and more people were seeing opportunities to make a quick ruble, and many of them lacked any sense of ethics. We were still outsiders for the most part, and while they called us ‘Sergei’ and ‘Yuri’, and we all spoke mostly Russian, those we worked with and for rarely forgot that we were not really Russian. It was a barrier for us, but not an insurmountable one.
Davey’s relationship with his family back in the States continued unchanged. They didn’t speak to him, and he didn’t speak to them. My parents told me that Mr. Jones had patched up his relationship with them, and gone back to work at the company that Dad still ran. When I visited them towards the end of Spring, they questioned me intently on why I was staying in the USSR.
At Mr. Rush’s house, Mr. Long was waiting expectantly for me. I had another long series of reports for him, and he was most interested in hearing about Maslyukov’s statement regarding the USSR crumbling. He explained how he was filtering our reports through several different channels, making it almost impossible to track down where they came from, which was a good thing because I knew of at least one spy that was operating within the CIA at this time.
I could have warned him about that person, but I had not come up with a way to explain how I knew about that person, while not creating the expectation that I would know of other things.
Davey and I continued a comfortable existence in Moscow by and large. Occasionally, some woman from work would express an interest in one of us, but would look somewhere else when we showed no interest. At night, we would occasionally go out with groups of co-workers, or Russian friends from University. Both of us enjoyed the many theaters in Moscow. Not the movie theaters, but the stage plays, ballets, and even the opera, although Davey didn’t like operas nearly as much as I did.
Back in March of 1990, Gorbachev had sent tanks into Lithuania to prop up the communist government. Later in that same year, Latvia and Estonia began the process of declaring their independence, and the tanks did not roll in to stop them. When Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, we watched along with the rest of the world as the United States rallied together an impressive coalition to throw Iraq out of that small country. When the battle began in early 1991, our friends in Moscow reacted with shock at the total collapse of Saddam’s largely Soviet-supplied and trained military.
While the world was occupied watching what was happening in the Middle East, the KGB and Soviet Army troops again took to the streets in Lithuania. Their nationalist media was going further than the other states in pushing for independence. Maslyukov remained tight-lipped about the meetings of the Central Committee, but we could tell they were growing more and more intense and fractured. There were days that Davey and I held our breaths, or had to bite our tongues to keep from revealing too much knowledge of what was right around the corner.
While US troops mopped up operations in Iraq and Kuwait, the Soviet Union voted. Davey was technically a citizen, and actually got to take part in the vote. It was in March of 1991 that nearly eighty percent of Soviet citizens voted to keep the Soviet Union, albeit in a reformed manner. Most of the ‘breakaway’ states didn’t want to lose access to the larger Russian markets that full independence would bring. What they wanted was less central-control from Moscow, and more local control. Maslyukov breathed a sigh of relief that his Soviet Union had passed a major crisis and survived.
I didn’t tell him what was right around the corner.
Boris Yeltsin was running for the office of President of the Russian SFSR against Nikolai Ryzhkov. Mikhail Gorbachev was supporting Ryzhkov, but we both knew it was Yeltsin that would win, and in a few months stand up to the tanks of the Soviet Union. Davey and I, still using our system of tapping out messages just in case there was someone listening, discussed whether we should get involved in the campaign or not. In the end we went to Maslyukov with the matter.
“Why do you want to support Yeltsin?” Maslyukov asked. Just a few years ago, elections like these, where you had several different candidates, and only one of them a member of the Communist Party would not have been possible.
“I believe he will win.” Davey answered.
“Yes, but why do you want to support him?” Maslyukov pushed and Davey looked at him with a confused expression for a moment. “This is not America, Sergei. Supporting the wrong candidate here is much more dangerous, especially for one who works for the Soviet Union. No, don’t get that look on your face my young friend. This is no longer the old Soviet Union. Lefortovo will not be graced with your presence just for supporting Yeltsin. Still, I might be told that your work is no longer needed here, and I will find it hard to disagree.”
“We will miss working for you, comrade.” Davey said quietly, but firmly. “There are other jobs in Moscow, though.”
“Especially if you helped with the right campaign.” Maslyukov nodded and then he sighed. “We will have to keep in contact.”
“Of course.” Davey said with a smile. With that we left the office, and returned to work for the afternoon. That night we went home to the large townhouse that we had purchased, partly with money from Davey’s inheritance, and partly through selling some of the stocks we had received via our parents. It was one of those old eighteenth-century homes, with huge rooms, carved borders, and tall, narrow doors.
Lina had dinner ready, as usual, when we got home. She had accepted our offer to live with us after Mika had died. She was now retired, receiving her pension from the state, but stayed with us for free, as well as received a small stipend to supplement her income. In return, she cooked dinner for us, and did most of the basic cleaning. Here she was close enough to her adult children that she could visit them, and her grandchildren nearly every day. It was a good arrangement that worked for all of us.
The timeline was moving along so smoothly, heading straight in the direction that we expected, and even I had to admit that being where we were, at the center of change in Russia and the collapse of the Soviet Union was a breathtaking experience. Moscow was flooded with more foreigners than ever before, many of them ‘consultants’ brought in to help with the reforms of Gorbachev.
It was amusing watching them struggle with the Soviet bureaucrats, so stuck in their ways, and yet knowing that change was on the horizon. Davey and I were both welcomed into the Yeltsin camp with open arms and many shots of vodka. Both of us were quite surprised that on our first day we got to sit down with Boris Yeltsin himself for nearly thirty minutes, talking about his vision of the future.
Neither of us was surprised by his continued dedication to communism. The collapse of communism was by and large an accident of fate more than anything else. In order to understand how it happened, it is necessary to understand how the ordinary Russian perceived leadership.
Maybe it was because of the repeated Mongol invasions, followed by Hitler’s greatest mistake of World War II where he invaded and devastated Russia before being thrown back, but the average Russian prefers strong leadership. Ideas and concepts such as communism or democracy, or feeding the poor, or even justice often take a second seat in who a Russian will support compared to the ‘strength’ of the candidate. Will the candidate be strong? Will they be able to lead Russia (or the Soviet Union) against all enemies?
This theory of Russian electioneering was originally something I’d learned from the first Davey I had met. However, it had been proven over several lifetimes. The Soviet Union collapsed, according to this theory, not because of a failure of communism so much as a failure of leadership. Gorbachev took a fatal blow in public opinion when his own deputies managed to seize control from him. His deputies who took over failed to garner enough support from the public, and from the military. Yeltsin was able to seize the initiative, and because both Gorbachev and the coup plotters were pro-communist, the only alternative was to do away with the crumbling system. The only winners in that showdown were Yeltsin and his supporters, and Yeltsin won because he was seen showing strength and being victorious.
Years later, when Putin took the reins of power from an ailing Yeltsin, it was his strength that allowed him to stay in power long after he should have left the position. His strength gave his viewpoints an air of legitimacy, and so he stayed in power. No one could muster the appearance of strength for many years in order to challenge him.
Working on the election was an invigorating experience for both of us. It was different from American elections, but at the same time there were some core fundamentals that were unchanged. Controlling the message of the campaign was just as important, if not more important in these elections, and that was where I found my niche in working with Yeltsin’s senior advisors. Davey’s gift for writing found him working with the speechwriters for Yeltsin’s addresses, and after his victory (which was unsurprising for us), we found ourselves in middle-level positions of the administration of the Russian state government.
It wasn’t too difficult for us to obtain visas for our friends to come out and visit us the week before the coup we expected to happen. Trevor was the most difficult to arrange, mostly because his parents were defectors, but even he was able to obtain a visa in this age of perestroika. They arrived on a British Airways flight in Moscow’s main airport, and Davey and I were there to meet them.
The changes in our friends over the past several years were shocking to us in many ways. We had kept in touch by letters, and the occasional phone call, but seeing them after all these years was different. Trevor’s brown hair was cut short, and he was in great physical shape. Todd’s hair was longer, and paler red than it had been years ago. Brandon’s hair was longer, nearly touching his shoulders, and he was slimmer than I had expected. Sean’s hair was darker, and his freckles had started to fade, but he was actually more built up than Brandon.
“Look at you two.” Trevor said with a smile after we had all hugged in the middle of the airport’s concourse after they had passed through customs without too much trouble.
“What?” Davey asked in English.
“You look… Russian.” Trevor said, also in English. He alone of our friends had any fluency in Russian.
“We have been here for a few years.” I replied with a slight smile, and found it odd to be speaking English after using Russian almost exclusively all these years. Actually, I’d used English on my visits home, but speaking it here, in Moscow, felt truly odd. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You’re going to love our house.” Davey promised them as we made our way out and found two taxis that would take us to the house. Davey rode in a car with Trevor and Todd while I went with Brandon and Sean in the other taxi.
“Wow, it’s nicer than I thought.” Sean said as we drove down the road.
“Moscow is very beautiful, especially in the summer.” I replied to his statement and heard a grunt from the driver. He was trying to take us the longer way to our destination and I spoke to him briefly in Russian. The driver frowned, but nodded and turned back to the shorter path.
“Are we really going to the ballet tomorrow night?” Brandon asked with a slight grin on his face.
“Yes.” I assured him.
“That will be fun.” Sean agreed. The chatter continued like that, with no references to the real reason for their visit. I played the good tour guide, pointing out important historical sights along the way to the house, and when we reached it, I paid the driver off with a very slight tip since he’d tried to cheat us.
“Can we talk freely here?” Trevor asked in English once we’d gotten inside the house and were all sitting in the living room. Lina was visiting her grandchildren today, and so we had the house to ourselves.
“Yes.” Davey assured them.
“Why’d you want us here?” Brandon asked with a frown. “Not that it’s not good to see you guys again. I mean, we haven’t gotten together at all in years, so why now?”
“You know the coup is about to happen.” Davey said with a frown. “We thought you’d want to see it in person.”
“Well, kind of.” Trevor shrugged. “But, what does this all have to do with our long-range plans? Why are you two here instead of in the U.S.?”
“I think I overlooked something important in those plans.” I said with a sigh and looked up to see their expressions of surprise.
“What would that be?” Sean asked with a little half-smile.
“I’ve made the typical mistake of American hubris.” I said with a shrug. “In the planning, I looked at things too much from a solely American perspective, always at changing things from the outside, not the inside of other nations. Look, this has always been about changing the perspective of people so that they look at the world from a larger perspective. How do we think we can make that change from solely within the United States?”
“So you’re going to try to make changes here in the Soviet Union?” Trevor asked in a tone of disbelief.
“No, from the Russian Federation.” Davey countered. “The Soviet Union must end, that is obvious. History records its fate over and over again. It is an unsustainable system. What we’re going to do is try to cut down on the initial corruption and growth of the crime syndicates after the Soviet collapse. We’re in position now to do that, all we have to do is wait for the change in power to happen by the end of this year.”
“What we’re going to need though is your help.” I added. “Here we have influence, and frankly we are well off enough that we can lead comfortable lives, but we won’t have the capital to really make some of the differences we need to make.”
“How are things going on your end?” Davey asked them.
“We’re good.” Trevor said with a smile at Todd, and the two of them clasped hands briefly. It was sweet to see their fondness for each other had not changed. “I’ve been picked up by the Rams, and I’ve already had the conversation with the coach. If the story breaks about us as a couple, they aren’t going to drop me. We don’t plan on breaking the story anytime soon, but it’s a good contract.”
“I’ve got good news for you as well.” Todd said with a grin. “You might actually get to see some original movies for once without having to wait for the 21st Century. I’ve signed a good deal for a script I found, and if it works out, well, we’ll be well on the way to having a comfortable financial base between what I make and what Trevor makes.”
“We’re doing damn good too.” Sean said firmly with a wink at Brandon. “None of us are going to have to turn to the lottery trick this time around, that’s for sure.”
“So you’re wanting to take our hard-earned money, are you?” Brandon asked with mock severity.
“We’re wanting you to invest it wisely.” Davey countered with a smile for Brandon. “It’s a perfect opportunity to get in on the ground floor.”
“There’s more to the world than just Russia and the United States.” Trevor replied with a frown.
“Yes, but maintaining the balance of two superpowers is important.” I countered. “Let’s face it, nature abhors a vacuum, and the unbridled supremacy of the United States during the 1990’s and early 21st Century is part of what got our homeland into so much trouble in those later years, during my original timeline. A stronger Russia on the international stage in the mid to late-1990’s and early 21st Century can make a huge difference, like it did in the 2020’s and 2030’s before the vacuum after Putin’s assassination.”
“Do you really think you can accelerate Russian growth and domination so quickly?” Trevor asked with a frown.
“It’s not a matter of accelerating its growth so much as it is stopping its decline.” Davey countered with a grin. “The 1990’s, under Yeltsin, was a time of massive decline, especially in the first five years. Yeltsin couldn’t be bothered to handle the little details, and those were what killed the Russian Federation. He cared only about the ‘big picture’, not all the little things that let the crime syndicates gain too much power, and slowed the economic growth of the country. Along with the associated corruption that was allowed to happen, well it was a mess in those early years.”
“That is where Sergei and I will make the difference.” I added.
“Sergei?” Brandon asked. “Who is Sergei?”
“That’s my Russian name.” Davey shrugged and I blushed. Normally I didn’t slip up like that, but for some reason it was happening more and more lately.
“Sorry.” I said with a blush.
“Being here, now, gives you a reason for helping to invest in Russia’s economy in the near future.” Davey added. “Now will be the time that a little bit of money can make a huge difference, and Trevor, your public sports position will be helpful too, especially if your parent’s story comes out in public after the collapse.”
“They won’t like that.” Trevor frowned.
“No, but it will help.” Davey countered. “Part of the initial problem is that every bit of help the United States offers at this point in time comes with a price tag that the Russian government cannot pay. Instead of treating Russia like a potential partner, they try to treat this country like a defeated enemy, and that’s something on your end that needs to change.”
“I’m just a sports figure.” Trevor countered. “Hell, right now I’m not even on the ‘A’ list of things.”
“No, but you’re in the best position to get the press to look at you and to listen.” I countered and Trevor frowned.
“You’re asking a lot, you know.” He said with resignation.
“We know.” Davey assured him.
“What about Shevardnadze?” Sean asked. “Any sign he did come back in time?”
“None.” I answered quickly. “It appears the jamming of the frequency he and the scientist used did work, without affecting the frequency you used, or the one that we all used the last time.”
“That’s good.” Sean said with a sigh. “He’d have been back for a few years by now.”
“Yes.” Davey agreed. “Look, I know this isn’t easy for any of us, but remember, this is why we did come back. We need to make the world a better place, and the only way to do that is to make sure it stays balanced.”
“I agree.” Todd said with a frown. “Part of me doesn’t like it, because it feels like we’re being disloyal to the United States, but you’re right. In the long run the best thing is for the United States to have competition in the international stage.”
“The same goes for any country.” Davey said. “No matter what we do, the United States must remain strong and independent.”
“We agree on that.” Sean said with a nod of his head.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, how about showing us some of Moscow?” Trevor asked. “Have you two taken up smoking?”
“No!” Davey nearly shouted.
“But I bet you drink vodka.” Todd laughed.
“Konyechna!” I said, slipping back into Russian without even thinking about it, and Davey translated for me with a laugh. He got up and brought a bottle of vodka along with several glasses, and we proceeded to teach our friends some of the best Russian toasts we had learned over the years.
It was funny watching Todd and Sean stagger around, barely able to walk as we went to dinner at a nearby restaurant later than night. They were all tired from the flight, and the plan was for them to go to bed after they’d eaten. Trevor ordered for himself, but we translated for the others and after dinner everyone was asleep within minutes upon our return to the house.
“I love you.” Davey whispered as he curled up against me and fell asleep. It felt surprising good to be surrounded by our friends, and the nervousness that had been growing in me over the last few weeks faded away. Knowing the coup was coming, and that the end result was going to be good for everyone was one thing, but I kept worrying that something could still happen to Davey and I, caught in the middle of the coup. Having our friends here made it seem a much more remote possibility.
This story brought to you by a lot of hard editing from Emoe, and
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