Alexei's Mouse

Moscow, February, four years ago

Ominous dark gray clouds rolled in. Snow came down as small ice pellets that cut like glass shards on the skin. They swirled around the mourners as they stood over the twin coffins. A northeast wind blew over the loup garou cemetery outside of Moscow. It cut through the thickest coats and scarves. Alexei Davidoff shivered in his beaver coat and hat. His Enforcers lowered the bodies of his former Chief Beta and his Beta’s Mate into the ground. Newly joined, they were dead for the crime of being gay and holding hands in a public square in Moscow.

“This cannot stand. There has to be an answer to this, someone has to stand up against these thugs.” Alexei moved his platinum hair off his face. His navy blue eyes flashed both anguish and resolve.

“The perpetrators were human, one of the government’s army of gay bashers, Alpha. There is nothing we can do. We cannot harm a human, and the government gives us no recourse to law.” The Beta shook his head.

“When is the next protest?” Alexei paced across the icy ground in front of the graves.

“Tomorrow at noon, in the square,” Vasily Yudin, Alexei’s new Chief Beta said reluctantly.

“I will be there.” Alexei watched Vasily’s expression. His body folded in on itself in resignation. Alexei knew Vasily realized it was useless to argue. He saw that his Alpha had made up his mind. Alexei could tell his Betas were scheming to mitigate the damage.

“We’ll go with you, Alpha.” Vasily gestured to Grigory and the six Enforcers in the funeral party.

“No, I will go alone.” Alexei clenched his fists and set his jaw in defiance.

“Alpha, it’s dangerous. We can’t let you go alone. If the FSB picks you up, there is no guarantee that the council will be able to negotiate your release. Please, both Grigory and I think you should let us and the Enforcers go with you, or you should stay at home. The FSB under the current president is worse than the KGB that preceded them. Peter and Sasha wouldn’t have wanted you to put yourself in danger. There is no helping them now.”

“I cannot let this go unanswered, Vasily. The man who did this wasn’t even arrested despite the fact that I reported the assault. I must protest to the authorities. We have an obligation to try to right this wrong. He was one of mine, one of my household, my personal staff. I am responsible.”

“But, Alpha, we can’t let you go alone into a dangerous situation,” Grigory persisted. “We would be shirking our duty as your Betas if we let you go alone.”

Alexei Ivanovich Davidoff straightened his spine and spat. “I will lose no one else to the government. As your Alpha, I am ordering you to stay away.”

“Alpha,” Vasily got on his knees in supplication.

Alexei put up his hand to silence his Beta. “I will hear no more of this. I will lead the demonstration tomorrow.”

Vasily and Grigory hung their heads in defeat.

* * * *

Gate of the Russian Gulag

March, three years later

“I don’t think I can make it,” Alexei said as he attempted to walk out the front gate of the gulag to the waiting car.

“Let Grigory and I help to hold you up.” Vasily and Grigory each put an arm under one of his shoulders and half-walked, half-carried him to the car.

They strapped him in the back and Grigory spent the twelve hours it took to get to the dacha trying to hold his Alpha up so he wouldn’t fall where he sat.

When Vasily and Grigory finally got him into the dacha, Vasily’s mouth hung open in shock when he took off his Alpha’s coat. Their six foot six, two-hundred-pound Alpha weighed less than one hundred forty pounds.

“What did they do to you?” Vasily asked, tears pouring down his face.

“I was caged most of the time I spent in the gulag. They tortured, beat, and defiled me daily, all because I’m gay and dared to report Sasha’s and Peter’s deaths, and point to who was responsible.”

“They call it prison now, Alpha.”

Alexei sighed wearily, “In modern Russia, they call it a prison. But I’ve been alive long enough to remember Stalin, Khrushchev, and Brezhnev’s slave labor camps. They can change the name but it’s still the gulag to me.”

“Alpha, you need to make the change. It will erase your scars and after you’ve changed a number of times, your injuries. It will take a while. Your injuries are severe.” Grigory helped Alexei into a roughhewn chair.