NOTE: This is a one-shot. No major plot here. Just two guys talking.
Siberia was a cruel place. The sheer coldness of the region was a problem to anyone who went exploring its mountains and valleys. Winter was when the place was at its worst. And because of it, the Soviet Military had decided to station some of its silos there. Well, at least they were in areas not too cold for the birds to fly.
Thanks to Premier Anatoly Cherdenko's militarization policies, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics had garnered breakthroughs in military science, mainly in physics, thus allowing them to have larger, better, and more effective intercontinental ballistic missiles.
In this particular silo, known as the Svobodnyy Cosmodrome in the Amur Oblast, the rockets locked deep within its holes carried the latest and deadliest vacuum implosive warheads. Originally, they were supposed to be equipped with the experimental thermonuclear warheads but research for the field was pushed back by two years due to "technical problems". The Committee for State Security believed it was espionage.
On the surface, Private Tamartov brushed his hands down his arms, watching his breath materialize in a cloud in front of his face. Among all places, why did they have to build the damn things here?
Tamartov was not well versed in science but his rationality was agreed upon by many of his colleagues around the base.
"You got a smoke?"
Private Konochin offered him a cigarette and both lit them with his lighter. It was going to get colder in a few minutes.
"Hey, I just had this thought."
"What if, we build silos in Antarctica?"
"Down in the Earth's ass?"
Both men laughed, mixing their breath with the smoke they puffed. "I mean really, tavarisch. What if we really had stationed our missiles down there that they could even target South America?"
"And harm our socialist brothers?" Hey, I sounded like that zampolit bastard.
Konochin grunted. "Look at them. They say they want to be like us. But look at what they have going over there. American capitalist corporations are staking out their resources. Even the damn druggies are taking over their governments."
"Watch your mouth, tavarisch. Who knows, maybe Lieutenant Daskov is watching."
"Bah! Fuck him."
Tamartov chortled. One thing he shared with almost any other grunt in the Red Army was their disgust for the KGB. Stalin's Purges were facts that could not be hidden by propaganda. It was one thing that the Soviet Union was forced to disclose to its people. Good thing the Premier isn't like Stalin. Brilliant leaders, gone. Replaced by idiots who barely knew how to lead a frontal attack.
Both men stubbed their cigarettes in the snow and walked off to their next post.