Cannon Fire Arc

Yakov Alekseyevich Rokossovsky looked at the phone on the desk that kept ringing and immediately picked it up: “This is Major Rokossov, who is calling?”

“Yashka!” A woman’s voice came from the receiver.

Yakov frowned: “…Godmother? How did you call here? We’re about to depart, and an emergency call could come in at any time!”

The woman on the other end of the line was Yakov Alekseyevich Rokossovsky’s godmother, the widow of his father’s second deputy officer.

“Godmother knows you’re busy now, so I’ll be quick. You should know, Alyosha is also in your unit, he’s a Private Second Class, only eighteen this year. What if he faces danger? Your father is his godfather and would be heartbroken.”

Yakov’s father, Marshal Rokossov, a hero of the Ante Republic and a founding father, has indeed always cared for the widow and child of his second deputy officer.

Yakov: “Godmother, firstly, Aleksei is not the son of Yakov Konstantinovich Bratov; he doesn’t even have the Bratov surname, although my father became his godfather, he didn’t instruct me to take special care of him.

“Secondly, I’m just a minor major and don’t have the authority to withdraw someone from the unit and send them to the rear when we’re about to deploy.”

“Yashka, godmother knows you’re a soft-hearted child, just help out, won’t you? He’s only eighteen years old…”

“My unit is full of eighteen-year-olds.” Yakov interrupted his godmother, “By the way, theoretically, you shouldn’t be able to call my headquarters now, right? Did Uncle Eugene help?”

“No, he wasn’t helpful at all, I had Comrade Filippov from the General Bureau transfer the call.”

“Then you should let Uncle Filippov issue a transfer order.” Yakov said.

The woman remained silent for a few seconds on the other end: “Does he have the authority to transfer orders?”

“Of course, many people think we belong to the Ante Defense Army, but we’re actually a special unit under the National Security General Bureau, and Uncle Filippov is our direct superior.” Yakov said.

He could already imagine the expression Uncle Filippov had when transferring the call.

Filippov wasn’t as close to Marshal Rokossov as Yakov’s father, having only fought briefly under him as a hastily drafted military cadet during the Anteater War.

He wasn’t like Marshal Vasily, who served as the marshal’s deputy officer and saw the entire campaign.

Faced with the widow of his marshal’s deputy officer and the godmother of his marshal’s son, Filippov indeed found it hard to refuse outright.

“Alright,” Yakov checked the time, “you can call Lubyanka again, we’re only flying out tomorrow, you can completely withdraw Aleksei to the rear.”

“Yashka! I just remembered, there’s one thing you could do: punish Aleksei, and leave him domestically, won’t that solve it?”

“Godmother, if our unit punishes him, his future work will be difficult to manage; if he wants to go to university, he won’t pass the Tribunal’s review.” Yakov sighed, “Besides, we won’t face any danger this time.”

“How can there be no danger! The television says you’ll liberate Vina Country this time; I know how much sacrifice it takes to liberate a country! Yakov—my ex-husband died in the liberation of Prosen!”

Yakov: “We’re just guiding the local guerrillas, fighting the colonial troops of Carolingian. Do you know how weak Carolingian is? It was blitzed by Prosen in just 49 days.”

“The television also says the Federation might intervene, to take over Carolingian’s territory! That’s the Federation! During the Anteater War, without the Federation’s Spam Cans, your brother wouldn’t have grown so healthy!”

Yakov instinctively looked at the propaganda poster on the wall, highlighting his brother, the Ante Republic’s first astronaut.

He instinctively retorted, “My brother might have wished for malnutrition so he wouldn’t grow so tall; he almost couldn’t fit in the spacecraft! Nowadays, whether pilots, tank operators, or astronauts, all need to be small in stature!”

At that moment, the phone on the desk rang urgently again, indicating another incoming call.

“I have another call coming in, you heard it, godmother, so I’ll hang up now.” Said Yakov as he hung up the phone and picked it up again, “This is Major Rokossov, who is calling?”

“Yashka!” Filippov’s calm tone came from the other side, “I knew I’d have to call to rescue you.”

“I’m amazed, when did godmother become like this?” Yakov sighed, “My name was actually meant to commemorate her ex-husband, but now she calls to bring back the child with her current husband.”

Filippov: “Don’t let it affect you, focus on your task. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up.”

“She’ll come to you again.”

“She can’t find me now, the National Security Bureau’s director is busy with official duties as usual.”

“Says the Federation will join; is the news reliable?”

“Let’s just say it’s possible, but Tom Qin, the president, is trying to prevent it from happening. His presidential term only has half a year left. Judging by the current situation, the opposition will win. Admiral Qin’s successor is a movie star; how could he, picking a movie star?”

Filippov grumbled, appearing quite bewildered by the political changes on the other side of the ocean.

“Anyhow, your current mission is to help the Vinas drive out the Carolingians and facilitate Vina’s peace.”

“Leave it to us.” Yakov confidently said.

“Good luck,” Filippov said, then hung up the phone.

Yakov put down the receiver, turned on the nearby tape recorder, and the stirring melody of “Glorious Guide” came out from the recorder.

———

Filippov hung up the phone.

His secretary opened the left door of the double doors, poked her head in and reported: “That lady called again.”

“Tell her I’m not here.” Filippov said.

“We told her, she asked where you’ve gone.”

Filippov chuckled coldly, “Need I, a director of the General Bureau, report my movements to her? Who is she? The Bishop of the Summer Palace?”

The door on the right was pushed open, and a petite and capable girl looked at Filippov: “There’s also a bishop from the Summer Palace? How come I didn’t know?”

The girl’s artificial eye glinted, making Filippov’s scalp tingle.

“Miss Nelly, what brings you here…”

“I’m here to verify the itinerary for the Federation visit, isn’t it now?”

Filippov flipped through his notebook: “You’re three hours early.”

“That’s because a work meeting was just canceled.”

“Oh.” Filippov nodded, “That’s just perfect, I have time now.”

Nelly nodded and asked again, “Any news on the Federation’s lunar mission?”

“Not yet. However, from sources in the United Kingdom, we’ve heard they’re preparing for underwater filming.”

“Underwater filming?” Nelly frowned, “You mean using underwater photography to simulate the low-gravity environment of space?”

“Yes, after all, they do have a very prosperous film and television industry.”

Nelly clicked her tongue: “I doubt that Tom Qin would support such deception.”

“The company under Tom Qin is the main contractor for the Federation Aerospace Agency. Of course, they hope for a genuine lunar mission.”

Nelly: “Then what about our response? Can we catch up?”

“…This is the National Security General Bureau, not the Central Administration of Spacecraft, nor the General Machinery Manufacturing Bureau, and certainly not the Li Aklov Design Bureau.”

“Sorry, let’s get back on track. The visit plan has been made, right?”

“Of course, it’s been made. Semyon, bring over the plan!”

Filippov’s secretary left upon hearing the command.

Just then, a red phone rang on Filippov’s desk.

Filippov picked up the phone: “This is Filippov, go ahead.”

The voice on the other end: “This is Admiral Drachenko. The ‘Black Widow’ is here again. No idea if it’s the one you guys sent a package on.”

“Just take a shot at it and you’ll know, Admiral. It can’t be scarier than Prosen’s anti-aircraft guns, Admiral.”

Admiral Drachenko had been flying attack aircraft during the Anteater War, and his old unit, the Fourth Attack Aircraft Group, was fully engaged in the struggle.

Seeing Filippov hang up the phone, Nelly asked, “Package?”

“We installed a magnetic screw inside the enemy’s U2 spy plane, which pulls the altimeter needle sideways. It was Marshal Rokossov’s idea.” Filippov shrugged, “Very… whimsical.”

Nelly: “Can’t our new missile hit this guy?”

“They can, but they’re still in the testing range and not yet deployed.” Filippov spread his hands.

Nelly: “Put away your screw trick, just say it was shot down with a new missile—if successful. Let’s continue verifying the itinerary.”

Filippov’s secretary came in with the plan booklet and opened it in front of Miss Nelly.

Filippov: “Your security force includes a male escort for you, we selected—”

“I don’t need a male escort.” Nelly glanced at Filippov, “Keep your bodyguards at a distance. The Prosens once used over a thousand people with many snipers, and they couldn’t kill me. I don’t think the Federation’s hippies have that capability.”

“Ah, oh.” Filippov nodded, “We’ll do as you suggest.”

“Moreover, emphasizing female independence is one of our propaganda strategies against the Federation. I actually hope the hippies will arrange an assassination; it would better highlight our superiority and promote the spread of the Secular faction,” Nelly added.

Filippov clicked his tongue: “I don’t want the Marshal coming to hold me accountable, so let’s just forget about that.”

Just then another secretary came to the door of Filippov’s office: “A lady claiming to be a friend of Marshal Rokossov is waiting on line 3.”

Nelly frowned: “Who?”

“The widow of the Marshal’s second Deputy Officer.”

Nelly lifted her head, showing an uncommon expression: “Yakov’s? Oh, I remember now. Why is she calling?”

Filippov: “Her child with her current husband happens to be in the unit of the Marshal’s second son. They are set to leave for Vina tomorrow to guide the local guerrilla.”

Nelly: “Even Marshal’s son is going; her child needs to come back. Is this reasonable? Such misuse of connections may lead to major problems. It should be investigated.”

Filippov: “We’re the foreign intelligence and counter-espionage department. This should be handled by the Tribunal.”

Nelly nodded and made a note, then shifted her attention back to the Federation visit plan.

Suddenly, she looked up at Filippov: “When does Yashka’s unit depart?”

“Tomorrow.” Filippov paused, then added, “They’re currently stationed at the Kubinka Training Base.”

“Understood. I’ll visit him after things are wrapped up here and tackle that ‘lady’s’ request along the way.”