Countryhumans ; The 13 Days

Invite

Across the Atlantic Sea, past the winding roads of Europe, over the mighty Berlin Wall and through the doors of the Kremlin—on the opposite side of the world, the USSR was thinking.

He was not as stressed as he suspected America was. But, he indeed was in a state of cautiousness.

Yes, Soviet placed the missiles there. It was the only response he felt like he could do after American missiles in Italy and Turkey were spotted. After all, they hadn't talked in two decades; and after tensions have been rising rapidly, Soviet knew he couldn't possibly talk to America. It was out of the question, as much as Soviet wanted it to be an option.

"Проверка," Nikita Khrushchev said, moving his bishop by Soviet's king on the polished chessboard. "Check."

That's what it was like. A game of chess. These twenty years have been a metaphorical game of chess with America; no words said, simply strategy. It was agonizing, thinking of what America would do next. It gave pleasure to the generals and leaders around him, especially Khrushchev, to see this game of tension play out. But deep down, it was frustrating to Soviet. Deep in his cold heart, frozen over from the revolution, the affects of Stalin, and both world wars, Soviet's memories were locked away. Memories of America; the good times. Being honest with himself, those memories were the only thing that gave him happiness. But they've been locked away, and Soviet had to move on since the terrible rift between them opened.

Soviet moved his knight and captured the bishop. "Поздравляю.Congrats, you just gave up your bishop. Now it's just your rook and king, count your days."

Khrushchev chuckled. "Many things can be done with just two pieces and some pawns."

"Нет. Not when I'm the opponent," Soviet said. The USSR was a master of chess, always five steps ahead of his challenger. He has never lost a game—well, he did, once; to someone he would not rather name. They happened to be his opponent right now, across the sea. No wonder it's been twenty years of only strategy, a constant stalemate.

"Comrade Union of Soviet Socalist Republics, President Khrushchev," someone announced, breaking both Soviet and the leader's concentration. Soviet looked to see a fellow high rankling official. "Comrades, you have been requested to join our meeting. We have important news."

"Занятный," USSR commented, standing up and walking out of the study. Interesting.

They climbed down the marble stairs of the Kremlin, past bustling officials and others who have been busy due to recent events. They headed to the Military headquarters. Upon arrival, generals sang the Soviet Anthem and Soviet smiled. Ah, my comrades.

Soviet turned and followed a sentinel down into a bunker. Soviet went down hallways
entered, to see Khrushchev, and only the highest ranking generals.

"Commander and Comrade USSR," a general Soviet recognized as General Zakharov announced. He picked up a device on the table and plugged it in. "We have received a response from the United States of America."

Soviet wasn't suprised. He knew a response would be fast. But what Soviet wasn't expecting, when he looked at the table, was a telegram. Soviet looked over, And Zakharov handed him the telegram.

Translated to Russian, it read:

Greetings, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics,
It has been brought to my attention that you have been sending missiles to Cuba in attempt to protect them.
However, this act threatens the national safety and security of the neighboring United States of America. Due to past conflicts, concern in our country cannot help but be raised.
As of now we have installed a Military Blockade to prevent missiles being shipped to the Republic of Cuba. We demand a meeting to discuss recent events for peace of this world.
We will meet in Havana, Cuba for any discussions.

Signed;

United States of America

Soviet glanced the telegram over again, his eyes wide. America...wanting to talk? Soviet nearly breathed a sigh of relief out loud.

Finally. It's about...It's about time.

Khrushchev took the paper out of Soviet's hands. Him and other generals stared at it.

"I'm sure you're not going to tolerate this, correct?" Another general, General Roksenov,
said with a scoff. He took and crumbled the paper; Soviet had to resist grabbing it out of his hands.

"Нет," Soviet said, lying out of his teeth. "But, he has invited me to talk. It's a step towards something."

"I agree," Khrushchev said. "Plus, USSR knows what he's doing. He'll get America to understand. USSR himself is always five steps ahead, I know personally from experience."

The generals and Khrushchev laughed, and Soviet did his best to laugh along with them. But he felt queasy inside. The fate of this world rested in the hands of two countries, such opposites who haven't even talked to each other in 20 years...

Soviet looked down at his hand, with a single gold band wrapped around his ring finger.

Soviet stared at it for a while. He sighed. If only...

But this was a step towards each other. The world was threatened, and the tension would soon be even more of a hell, but it was a step closer.

A step closer to seeing America again.