Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 RHYKOV (Part 7)

   By KATZMAREK (C)

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   AUTHOR'S NOTE.

   Some of the events and personalities in this story are real, other's
aren't.  Please don't Email to tell me that X was with Y in Z and not in Q.
This work is Fiction.

   As always, it remains my property and may not be reproduced for profit
without my express permission in writing.

   -----------------------------------------------------

   Rhykov leaned back, allowing the warmth of the water to suffuse through
his body.  Although it was well into Spring, the outside still had a chill
from the tailings of Winter.  He placed his hands between the girls' legs
on either side and listened for a moment to the tinkling of their laughter.

   Risa and Katya's hands found purchases on his erect member.  They joked
it was a water snake and looked dangerous.  Risa told her sister to be
careful lest it bite.

   "Not bite," she replied, "but I believe it spits when petted." There was
another fit of giggling from the girls and Rhykov grinned in delight.  He
idly played with their pussies as they continued the banter of corny, sexy
humour.  He barely heard them as his mind began to drift back to the
forests of Belarus a few months ago.

   The War had seemed so far away during that Winter blizzard.  As if by
some mutual agreement, both Russians and their German enemy had put battle
aside for the moment as they looked to their own preservation from the
elements.

   Snow piled up over the buildings at that abandoned logging camp.  Some
huts had been completely covered and were just white mounds with perhaps
just the pole of a chimney marking its location.  Anyone who had the
necessity of travelling anywhere did so with the aid of skis or immense
snow shoes.  Rhykov had never mastered the art of skiing, so was content to
delegate urgent tasks to those who had.

   Occasionally, the wind would blow down the D/F loop antenna he'd fixed
onto the roof of his 'headquarters' hut.  It was while he was attempting to
repair it during a howling wind that he'd slipped and fell off into the
snow below.

   The sisters had laughed uncontrollably as they tried to assist his
extraction from the deep, soft snow.  Rhykov cursed loudly as he struggled
from the freezing, wet mantle.  They both escorted him inside as he poured
invective onto the Germans, the Mother he never knew and the 'fat, lazy
chair-warmers at STAVKA.'

   Risa maneuvred the big man to the fire and assisted him as he took off
his outer clothes.  Rhykov shivered and his face had a bluish tinge. 
Despite protesting that he was just fine, he allowed himself to be bossed
by the older sister as she rubbed warmth back into his hands and arms.

   "Stupid!" he muttered, "silly prick...  falling like that!  Should be
more careful...  too fucking cold for that shit...  shoulda had more
sense..."

   "Stop criticising yourself!" Risa told him, "you did what you had to
do."

   "Oh, bullshit!  Such foolishness is unforgivable in these conditions. 
The first rule is always to take care of your survival.  You should have
left me in the snow as a lesson."

   "Shouldn't we also look out for each other?" Risa asked, "as comrades we
should be able to depend on one another."

   "As far as that goes.  But what if one of you lost a glove, or injured
yourself?"

   "I would've summoned one of the team."

   "If they had any sense they would've stayed indoors and let us freeze."

   "But they wouldn't have, would they?  They could never leave their
leader to die.  You are too valuable to..."

   "Risa, stop it!" he snapped, "I know what you're going to say and I
won't hear anymore worship." Risa wrapped her arms around him and hugged
her body to his.  Rhykov was surprised by the assault, but recovered enough
to encircle the girl's shoulders.

   "Please don't ask me to leave you," she wailed, "I could never..."

   "Ok, ok, don't blubber so.  Freeze to death beside me if you like.  I'd
be beyond caring in any case."

   Meanwhile, her sister Katya looked on, a confused look on her face. 
Risa looked up and told her it was the best way to bring heat back into
Rhykov's body.  Her sister then came and tucked herself into his body on
the other side.  Rhykov encircled her shoulders, also, with his free arm.

   Risa began to kiss his neck and cheek, and pressed herself more fiercely
against him.  Rhykov sighed as he felt the soft pillows of her breasts
against his arm.  He felt like pulling them free from her clothing and
suckling them, but was mindful of her innocent sister snuggling on the
other side of him.  Risa's hand, however, drifted down to his lap and gave
him a rub.

   "It's all right," she whispered as Rhykov began to say something, "I've
told Katya about us, she knows."

   "Knows what?" he asked, glancing at Katya's curious expression.

   "Knows what we do...  together.  I've told her you're very gentle, and
loving."

   "You have?  Loving?  Me?"

   "Yes, I told her that you'd never hurt me.  Not like that Husband of
mine, who..."

   "Yes, yes.  So I'm a pussy cat in the sack.  Just what did you tell
her?"

   "Everything," she grinned, "about what we do and the way you look.  How
I feel when you touch me.  And how I wish you were my husband rather
than..."

   "I see.  You'd really not want me for a husband, I'm a very poor
bargain."

   "So you say.  Anyway, she knew most of it already because she told me
she'd spied on us a few times."

   "I'm not surprised, the amount of noise you make."

   "What about you?  All that huffing and grunting?" she giggled.  "Katya
told me she'd like to see it when it's all hard and ready.  She tried to
sneak a look but couldn't see it properly.  Do you mind if I show her?"
Risa rubbed him with the palm of her hand for emphasis.

   "Be my guest!  She won't be frightened?"

   "Conceit!" she laughed, as she plucked at the buttons of his trousers.
Katya looked on with a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity.  Rhykov
thought it cute and saw her young brown eyes dance with conspiracy.  The
girl's lips were parted and looked soft and inviting.

   "Do you think your sister would like a little kiss?" he asked Risa.

   "Would you?" she asked her sister.  Katya nodded almost imperceptably.
Rhykov took that as consent and advanced with his mouth.

   Katya's lips were pressed together, so Rhykov gently nibbled them.  They
were as soft and inviting as he imagined.  At the same time Risa had freed
his cock and began to stroke it.

   Rhykov left Katya with a dreamy look on her face as he turned to attend
to her sister.  The thought that it had been the first real kiss she'd had
excited him.  Risa, however, let it be known that she wanted some
attention.

   Unlike her sister, her lips parted as he approached and they shared a
long, passionate kiss.  Rhykov pulled at the buttons of her shirt and
pushed his hand inside.  She hummed aproval as he explored her soft,
velvety flesh.  He rubbed and pinched her nipples in the way he knew she
liked and her body squirmed in response.

   Meanwhile, Katya had relaxed a little and stared at Risa's hand as it
pulled on Rhykov's stiff cock.  Risa unfastened herself from Rhykov's mouth
and looked to reassure her sister.

   "Is he not everything I said?" she asked.  Katya nodded, releasing a shy
smile.  "Is it all right if she touched it, Rhykov?" she continued,
"Katya's never..."

   "Be my guest.  She may examine whatever she likes.  I'll not stand in
the way of a girl's education." They all laughed, as Risa took her sister's
hand and guided it to Rhykov's cock.

   "See?" she explained, "he likes this...  just under here and you must
rub so, but not too hard at first."

   "Did you really put it in your mouth?" Katya asked her sister.

   "Oh yes, Levy showed me how.  But you mustn't bite!  I did that to Levy
once.  He howled like a baby!"

   "But the taste!"

   "It's not too bad, providing they wash.  Here, I'll show you." Risa
lowered her mouth onto Rhykov's cock and gave it a suck.  She then offered
it to her sister who tentatively reached out with her tongue and touched
the tip.  She grimaced a little before dissolving into a fit of the
giggles. "Well?"

   "Tastes funny!  I liked the kissing better."

   "Rhykov, would you like to kiss her some more while I attend to this?"
she asked.

   "Of course!" The girl pouted as Rhykov approached her lips once again.
This time they parted and the kiss was long and lingering.  At the same
time, Risa bobbed up and down enthusiastically, sucking and gurgling. 
"Slow down, girl," Rhykov gasped between smooching her sister, "you'll have
a mouthful before the lesson's properly completed!"

   "Sorry," she said.  Her face was flushed with effort and excitement. 
Katya had a dreamy look from Rhykov's passionate kissing.  Her sister took
up stroking him while Risa played with his balls.  "I think Rhykov would
like to see your tits," she continued, "why don't you show him?  You could
let him stroke them, he has a nice touch."

   Risa's breathing had become harder and she was grinding herself against
Rhykov's leg.  He thought she was getting off on the show, watching and
assisting the seduction of her sister.

   "But they're not as big as yours," she protested, "he'd be
disappointed...  he won't like me."

   "He likes you, don't you, Rhykov?  Tell her!"

   "Madam," he replied, "you are a rose and such a pretty face.  But you
mustn't be coerced into things by your sister.  She is behaving badly and
will shortly be punished."

   "Oh?  How?" Risa asked, excited.

   "Madam, by taking down your pants and giving you a proper seeing to!"

   "Oh, my!" she gasped in mock shock, "you wouldn't do that to a poor
girl? My Mother warned me about men like you."

   "Clearly not well enough!  You may continue what you are doing, when
you're ready.  And if your sister wants to display herself for me, it'll be
her decision."

   Katya looked a little relieved.  The girl was a beanpole and had not
fully developed with puberty yet.  Probably it had something to do with
poor diet, or maybe she was a late developer, Rhykov didn't know.  She was
tall, though, but angular.  Her arse was small and round and her legs long
and thin.  Her cherubic face spoke to Rhykov of innocence, yet curiosity.
Her normal uncertainty about what it was to be a woman was, perhaps,
sharpened by her sister's unhappy marriage.  However, she knew of Risa's
forbidden love affair with the Jewish boy so had probably worked out that
sex wasn't necessarily an ordeal.  For the moment she seemed content to
watch her sister bobbing on Rhykov's cock.

   "Rhykov?" Risa said, breathless.  She'd paused with her sucking and
looked at him with a serious expression.  She held his cock against her
cheek while she looked up at him.  "Rhykov?"

   "Mmm?"

   "I'll let you do it to me, if you want to, that is."

   "Do what?" Rhykov understood what she was suggesting, of course, but
wanted no misunderstandings.

   "Make love...  all the way...  with your thing in me.  I know that's
what you want.  You will not be rough?" Her sister gasped in shock.  "It's
all right, Katya," she reassured her, "I want to do it."

   "Perhaps," Rhykov shrugged, "we ought to make ourselves more comfortable
on the palettes." She nodded, and they extricated themselves from the
chair.

   "Katya?" Risa asked, "you come and lay beside me?  Rhykov, do you mind?"

   "I guess.  Or she could make some tea?"

   "With you," said Katya, her voice barely a whisper.

   "Maybe you could play with yourself like you sometimes do?" her sister
added.  Katya blushed bright red.

   "Leave her alone, minx!" said Rhykov.  When they arrived at the
palettes, Risa started undoing her pants.  "Allow me, this is for the man
to do," he told her and loosened her belt.  Instead, Risa took his erect
cock and stroked it as Rhykov took off her clothing.

   He followed her pants to the floor, having given each of her nipples a
lick on the way down.  He kissed and teased over her rounded tummy and
little navel.  His hands cupped her big bottom eliciting first a smile then
a gasp.  Rhykov then buried his nose deep in her thatch.  It smelled
heavily of arousal and he sought out her pussy with his tongue.

   "Oh!" she jumped, "ah!" she gasped, "need...  to lie down!"

   Rhykov held her arms as she lowered herself onto her back.  He knelt and
took in the sight for a brief moment; Risa, naked and her big breasts
wobbling like jellies in anticipation.  Her nipples were stiff, her knees
bent up and legs wide open.  Her pale skin seem to radiate in the poor
light, her black thatch was moist and damp and her sex lay wide open below
it.

   Risa's expression reflected nervous anticipation.  She sucked ner bottom
lip like a little girl testing the bathing pool with her toe.  Rhykov
pushed his tongue between her thighs and recommenced the assault.  The girl
stiffened, then relaxed slightly, taking a sharp intake of breath. 
Gradually, she began to grind against his mouth, humming and moaning
quietly.  He could hear her whisper something to her sister urgently. 
Rhykov sensed Katya moving beside him, then felt her soft feathery touch on
his dick.

   He continued to lick at her until she pushed up hard against him,
expelling the air from her lungs with a whoosh.

   "Rhykov," she moaned, "come into me!"

   He pushed slowly into her pussy.  Risa turned to her sister and smiled.
Katya looked back, concerned, until she, too, grinned.  Rhykov saw that
Katya had opened her shirt to reveal her two small, but beautiful, young
breasts.  The two cones were topped with prominent, stiff nipples. 
"They're for you," Risa whispered, "she wanted to show you."

   Rhykov was buried in her to the hilt.  He rested awhile, kissing and
caressing, until she signalled she was ready to continue.

   "Oh Katya," she whispered, "he's fine...  beautiful!"

   "It doesn't hurt?" she asked, concerned.

   "No, no!  Not at all.  Wonderful!  One day...  Oh...  he will show
you... ah!  Faster, my love!"

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   The high pitched roof of the Town Administration building sported a red
flag, facing East.  It was the largest red flag Rhykov could conjure up at
the last moment.  Some of the remaining townsfolk had spread their own
flags over their houses.  Flags they'd no doubt hidden until the time of
liberation.

   All that morning flights of fighter and bomber aircraft had flown over.
Some of the pilots had taken particular interest in the little collection
of captured enemy vehicles gathered in the centre of town.  Rhykov's men
had waved enthusiastically at the aircraft, lest they remained under an
illusion that Baranovichi was still in the hands of the Wehrmacht.

   Prominent on the nose of some of the Lavochkin La-5s was the red, white
and blue roundel of a Czechoslovak Independent Fighter Regiment. 
'Independent' was something of a misnomer.  The Czechs were well and truly
under the operational control of the Soviet Army.

   Czech tanks were also the first friendly forces to arrive to relieve the
men of OSNAZ and the VDV.  Flowers, food and booze were handed out by the
excited population to the bemused Czech tank-riders and crews.  That
evening there was dancing in the streets.  Music was provided by dozens of
balalaikas produced from somewhere, although the playing of them varied in
expertise.

   More units of the 1st Byelorussian Front rolled into, and through,
Baranovichi the next day, and the next.  There had been no sign of
retreating German formations.  It was as if the enemy army had simply
evaporated.

   Prisoners were being rounded up, though, in scores.  Exhausted,
terrified, dispirited and defeated, few offered any real resistance.  Most
had been isolated by the speed of the German retreat.  Rhykov watched as
columns of them shambled in under guard to be processed.

   At the hastily-built pens at Baranovichi, soldiers of the Waffen SS, the
SD and the Feldpolizei were separated to be tried by military tribunal. 
Already dozens of summary executions had taken place and many more had not
made it to captivity.  Mere membership of the SS was a death sentence and,
in desperation, some had removed their uniforms and discarded their
paybooks.  Consequently, any German soldier who could 'not' prove he wasn't
an SS man shared the same fate.

   Soviet administration was reasserted, first by the military, then by the
Central Authorities.  Rhykov was relieved of his responsibilities for the
area and ordered to Moscow to assist Special Forces Command in planning. 
His knowledge and experience was considered invaluable for future
operations.

   His parting from the two sisters was emotional.  He would've liked to
take them back with him but he thought they'd be better off among their own
people.  In any case, he felt it was time to move on.  He didn't want to be
tied down.

   ------------------------------------------

   The surrender of Nazi Germany left the victorious former allies
glowering at one another across a divided Europe.  Many opportunities for
Rhykov's craft were available as the World settled into the Cold War.

   That Cold War amounted to a stalemate in Europe but there was plenty of
scope to play out conflicting ambitions among the newly emergent, and
unstable, countries of Asia, Africa, the Middle East and South America. 
Soviet management of these conflicts varied from inept to considerably
skilled.

   Soviet covert activity in Central and South America was always
problematic for Moscow.  Being so close to the continental United States it
was clearly likely to attract the greatest interest from Washington.  For
that reason, the Cuban revolution was only half-heartedly supported by the
USSR until the triumph of Fidel Castro's 26th Julio landed the Soviets with
a golden opportunity.

   Blockaded and isolated, Cuba would've likely succumbed had it not been
for Soviet support.  The missile crisis of 1963, however, showed the Moscow
leadership at it's bumbling worst as it appeared to all the World the USSR
had backed down before American might.

   From then on, future revolutions had to consider whether they were
dealing with a paper tiger when calling on the Soviet Union for support.

   But, in hindsight, the missile crisis merely demonstrated how America
and her allies completely dominated the propaganda war.  The Soviet
Government's taste for reticence and secrecy handed the West victory in
that dispute, even if it wasn't fully deserved.  Actually, the Soviets had
skillfully bargained the removal of NATO missiles from Turkey in exchange
for the removal of Soviet SSBMs from Cuba.  But to the World, the US had
successfully stared down the mighty Soviet Union, and the Russians had
blinked first.

   But by the sixties the Soviet bloc was slipping behind the West
technologically.  Captured German technology had greatly boosted the Soviet
arms industry during the fifties, but that advantage was being squandered
by bureaucratic inefficiency, excessive centralised control and an unstable
economy.

   Economic hardship and police repression had placed stress on,
particularly, the populations of Soviet satellite countries.  Hungary and
Czechoslovakia, for instance, had become difficult to control, perhaps as a
result of those nations' liberal traditions.  Considered 'strategic,' the
suppression of attempts at sliding out from under Soviet control had
resulted in brutal and hamfisted Russian overreaction.  A little more
tolerance, diplomacy and tact may have resulted in better outcomes, who
knows?

   The collapse of Soviet power, in my opinion, began with Soviet
intervention in Afghanistan in 1982.  Afghanistan had been on the fringe of
the Soviet sphere for 40 years.  Soviet engineers built roads, supplied the
military and gave economic and political aid to the various Kabul
governments.

   Afghanistan covered the volatile southern underbelly of Soviet central
Asia.  Tajikistan lay across the border, a traditional hotbed of Muslim
unrest, gangsterism and banditry.  Clearly an unstable and lawless
Afghanistan was going to spill across the border sooner or later.

   Traditionally, when the Kabul government is weak, the semi nomadic,
semi-autonomous tribes of the Pashtun break out in revolt.  When
well-meaning Russian educators began founding elementary schools for girls
in Bagram and elsewhere, the conservative warlords saw red and the advance
of the hated modern world.  Schools were set on fire, teachers assaulted
and their students whipped.  When tribesmen attacked the Russian engineers'
compound in Bagram and slaughtered thirty, Soviet Premier Brezhniev finally
lost patience.

   The GRU's Spetznaz assisted the Khalqs in a palace coup in Kabul.  The
Khalqs, whose power base was in the Soviet supplied Afghan Air Force,
didn't have the support to govern and the country dissolved into chaos.  In
any case, the Soviet Government merely wanted a pretext to intervene by way
of an official 'invitation.' This was supplied by President Babrak Kamal,
the second leader to be installed by the Khalq faction.

   The intervention reminded one of the ill-considered Soviet invasion of
Finland in 1939.  The conventional Soviet land forces won the plateaus and
the open country but were totally found wanting in the mountains.

   Moscow had underestimated Western reaction.  Spurred on by the new
Republican Administration of Ronald Reagan, a new Jingoistic aggression had
pervaded American thinking.  The US resolved to create the USSR's
'Vietnam,' by tying down the Soviet Union in a prolonged and useless war.
In this, it could be said, the US was spectacularly successful.

   The Soviet propagandists' clumsy and pointless attempts at keeping the
Russian people in the dark about the losses suffered by the young army
conscripts in Afghanistan, in my view, finally saw faith in the Soviet
system begin to crumble among the Mothers and grieving families.  The
financial cost, as well as the demands on the Strategic Forces to keep pace
with America's Star Wars project, bit hard on the Soviet population.

   And unravel the Party organisations did with breath-taking speed. 
'Glasnost,' (openess) of Mikhael Gorbachev sent newly liberated journalists
scurrying to reveal the graft, corruption and privilege enjoyed by the
Communist Party elite.  The German Democratic Republic, considered the
staunchest of Russia's allies, fell apart amid the crumbling Berlin War and
streams of Trabants heading West.

   The final throw of the KGB came in an abortive and silly coup against
Gorbachev which made a hero of the Mayor of Moscow, Boris Yeltsin. 
Modernisers romped into power and punished the all-powerful Intelligence
monolith.  Ironically, unemployed KGB heirarchy then joined with Party
'aparatchniks' to creat quasi-legal syndicates that would quickly coalesce
into the 'Russian Mafia.' Still others took advantage of government
contacts to gobble up previous Government assets as they were sold off in
'fire sales.'

   The result was rampant corruption, recession and a profound loss of
confidence.  The immense military mothballed much of their equipment and
ambition.  The new independent States, Russia, Ukraine, Belarus,
Kazakhistan, etc, split the Soviet armed forces between them.

   The FSB, (Federal'naya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti Rossiyskoi Federatsii) was
created in 1995 to take on the work previously undertaken by the KGB.  It's
brief is very much limited compared to the KGB, and mostly confines itself
to counter-intelligence work within the Federation and Chechniya.

   Rhykov's long career came to an end in 1965 when he retired, a General
of KGB, at the age of 72.  He retreated to his modest apartment in one of
the outer suburbs of Moscow.  Little is known about his life after the
service.  Neighbours report him having few visitors.  One, a woman and
believed to be a daughter, checked in on him from time to time.

   He lived long enough to see the USSR eclipsed in the space race by
America.  He watched in despair as he saw the Soviet Union begin to buckle
under the economic weight of the West.  Lacking any real confidence in the
Party's leadership, sometimes he was heard to describe them as 'dimwits'
and 'fuckheads.' He was, perhaps, one of the few people who could get away
with voicing such opinions in public.

   His retirement lasted just ten years when he finally succumbed to
Pneumonia.  His funeral was modest, as he requested, and confined to those
with whom he'd shared comradeship during the Great Patriotic War.  These
included General Ionn Khrinov, his wife Benin, and Jana Ivanova.  Also
present was Olga Berezkokova, having seen off her husband some 2 years
before.  Some of his offspring also made the journey to Moscow, including
two sons by the sisters Risa and Katya.

   Some grizzled veterans of Rhykov's OSNAZ team also showed up.  Some of
these hardened old guerilla fighters were seen to weep openly as Rhykov's
coffin was lowered into the ground at the Military cemetery.  As they
grouped around the graveside, the wood of the coffin rattled as it was
showered with medals.  A bereft OSNAZ man told an enquiring relative that,
'he deserved them all.  Rhykov made heroes of all of us.'

   The End

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   KATZMAREK (C)