RJ Book 12 Escape From Siberia

by Earl Nelson

  I was foolish in thinking that all I had to do was call the American Embassy and that they would give Boris a temporary asylum visa. No one wanted to upset the all-powerful Soviet Union.

  Now they tell me.

  I had one more card to play. I sent a long telegram to the Governor of Hong Kong asking for his help.

  Boris was allowed to stay with me at the Embassy so he wouldn’t be snatched off the streets.

  It didn’t take long for the Soviets to figure out who had stolen their Cessna. I suspect it helped when the Danes called the Soviet Embassy and asked what they wanted to be done with the aircraft that tipped them off.

  It seems that pictures were taken of us as we got out of the Cessna in Bornholm. The pictures were taken by a Soviet agent or sold to one who in turn sent them to the KGB. It only took the KGB and NKVD two days to sort out my trail across the Soviet Union.

  A demand was sent to the British Embassy that I am an escaped felon and Boris Badenov a wanted felon be returned to their custody.

  I had to sit in a meeting where some assistants suggested that they do just that to gain favor with the Soviets. No one had thought that I might be armed or needed disarming so there was dead silence in the conference room when I laid the Makarov down on the table.

  “We’re not going back.”

  I must have sounded sincere because the Ambassador turned to the junior and asked him to leave the room. I left the pistol on the table as a reminder. I had enough of this nonsense.

  The next day I received a telegram from Hong Kong telling me that asylum had been granted to Boris and paperwork to follow.

  In the meantime, I had been on the phone with my parents to let them know I was out of Russia. They had already heard. I guess the way I had left had the newspapers spinning.

  By burning down the prison van depot I had demonstrated that the Soviet Union wasn’t as all-powerful as people thought. The black maria was a symbol of fear and repression. They still weren’t back on the streets in Moscow.

  There had been no knocks on the door in the middle of the night for over a week.

  The burning of the Treasury Building was blamed on me by Pravda. Not the smartest story they ever published. It had disrupted the military pay for a week.

  That doesn’t sound like much, but the average Soviet soldier, sailor, or airman lived week to week at the best. Miss one week's pay and no food that week.

  Units occupying East Germany had resorted to stealing food from the local population who were already on short rations. Discipline was breaking down rapidly.

  Dissidents had seized city hall in Moscow demanding Lubyanka be emptied of its prisoners. Red Army units called in to quell the dissidents but refused to fire on them.

  The Soviet Union was in trouble.

  After talking it over with my parents my 707 was dispatched to Copenhagen to pick Boris and me up.

  In the morning, a temporary passport from Hong Kong arrived for Boris. My plane landed later in the day.

  We had no evidence that the Soviets had the Embassy under more than their usual surveillance. Taking no chances Boris and I rode out in the back of a bakery van that was making a routine delivery.

  We changed vehicles in a gated lot as the van would have been noticed going into the airport. It might have been too late for the KGB to do anything at that point, but no sense in taking a chance.

  The limo we were in turned into the airport and drove directly to my plane. I realized the flaw in the plan when I saw the Jackson Enterprises logo on the side of the 707 sittings there. Maybe we should have taken an ad out in the Copenhagen Post.

  Since the car had pulled up to the base of the wheeled stairs leading to the plane we moved quickly out of the car and up the steps.

  No one took a shot at us. As soon as we entered the airliner the door was slammed shut and we taxied to the runway.

  Boris and I grabbed the first seats we came to; these were the first-class ones in the front cabin. We took off while still being buckled in by the head stewardess.

  After we were safely in the air, I showed Boris how the other half lived by giving him a tour of the airplane. To say he was impressed is putting it mildly.

  “You live like a tsar.”

  “Not really, maybe a minor prince.”

  “A not so minor prince!”

  Taking the polar route, we landed at the Ontario airport nine hours later. From there it was in my Cessna 320 to the Forestry Service station. And a jeep ride home.

  I noticed that the hotel that I wanted had been completed and now was in use. This station once considered a hardship station was now one of the better ones to be at.

  I hoped the smokejumpers had full use of the facility because they had inspired it. I would follow up later to see how things had worked out.

  At Jackson House, it was a joyous reunion.

  After the greetings, there was some serious conversation.

  My Mum started with, “Rick, you have changed. A young boy was here last, you now look like a hard man.”

  I knew my body had changed from the hard work in the gulag. What I hadn’t given any thought to be my face. Any softness in my features was gone. There were fine lines around my eyes and overall, I would call the look grim.

  “That’s what being in Siberia will do for you.”

  “Tell us about your escape.”

  “My escape started day one in the gulag.”

  From there I told the whole family about my adventure. It is now an adventure, though at the time it was mostly terrifying.

  How I made a bow and arrows to collect food then a hang glider to get clear of the camp and the dogs.

  Then there was the army outpost where I became a horse thief. The boys loved that part. That and the part where I robbed a bank.

  I glossed over my time in Moscow and the guys who tried to rob me on top of the boxcar. Dad could tell I was holding back, but I told him I would tell him more tomorrow.

  I introduced Boris to the family. He was well-received. He had been looking around Jackson House the whole time I had been telling my story. We were in the dining room, but he could see other rooms.

  No one else understood when he said, “Like the Crown Prince.”

  He was given a guest suite to stay in. Dad and I would take him out tomorrow to buy him a wardrobe. We also had to get his statehood status straightened out.

  I was having second thoughts about his working as a welder in Pittsburgh. He might have to live in Hong Kong since I had influence there.

  My little sister Mary informed me that she had learned how to play gin rummy and asked if I would like to play the next day. I knew she was up to something, but I didn’t know what.

  I didn’t get a chance to play cards with her the next day as I spent most of it on the phone with JFK, the Queen, and the Empress. All wanted to know how I was. And if I was done punishing the Soviet Union.

  Later on, in the news, we learned that the Soviet Army was pulling out of East Germany as its troops were starving. With no Red Army support, the East German army was proving to be a paper tiger. There were so many desertions there were no combat-capable units left. Because of this, the Berlin wall was being torn down by citizens.

  Already the Soviet satellite countries were declaring themselves independent. There was a real concern about the Soviet nuclear arsenal. It had to be contained before bombs went on the market.

  Chapter 38

  I called England and let Mr. Norman know that I had flown directly home, I couldn’t wait to see my family. He understood.

  “MI6 would like to debrief you on your escape. They think you can give them some valuable hints on what to do. They want to incorporate it into their training program.”

  “I’m willing to share what I had to do, but don’t want to be treated as though it is a hostile interrogation. I have had enough of those.”

  “Her Majesty has been made aware of their request and has
put her conditions on the debriefing. I don’t think you will have any problems.”

  “For some reason, I don’t have much trust in anyone’s secret services.”

  “Ah, you have learned.”

  “I’ll do it but with the understanding, I can walk away at any time.”

  “When will you available?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I have to talk to some other people. Mostly I need to see how my family is doing, catch up with Nina, then my businesses, and after that probably JFK and the Empress.”

  “Your plate is full, that is for certain. Give me a call when you can head this way.”

  “Will do, Mr. Norman.”

  Next on my agenda was lunch with Nina. We hadn’t rushed into each other's arms immediately. I think we both were concerned with our five-month separation. I know I was.

  I picked her up in my T-Bird with the top down. I had feared that I would never be able to enjoy this life again.

  She was waiting on the front steps of her parent's home when I drove through the gates.

  I jumped out of the car ready to run to her and grab her into a hug. I slowed down as I realized she was hesitant in approaching me. What was going on?

  “What’s wrong, Nina?”

  “Nothing and everything, Rick, I had almost given up on seeing you again. Now you’re here and I don’t know what to think.”

  We were close enough for me to reach and hug her. She clung to me like she was drowning. She was shaking, I realized that she was crying. I just held her and let her sob herself out.

  Finally, she looked up at me.

  “I must look a mess, let me go in and wash my face. You can talk to my parents while I do that.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Monroe were welcoming, but I could see a reserve in their words. It appeared they were afraid of me.

  “Rick, we saw that show trial on television and then nothing for months. You’re blinking out the word, “tortured,” caught the whole world. We didn’t know if you would live. Do you care to tell us about what happened?”

  Nina came back just then, so I told them the complete story. It would all come out at some time so I might as well get it over with.

  While I was relating my tale, I noticed that Nina was clutching her mother's hands until both of them turned white.

  The part about the fake execution had her in tears again. My stealing a horse and then robbing a bank was cause for laughter. We all wondered what would happen to that pedophile in the dachas.

  Setting fire to the prison van depot and then the treasury building had them jumping up and down. My fake hanging of my ‘friend’ was considered fair retribution.

  The robbery attempt on top of the boxcars and the result was grim.

  Mrs. Monroe stated it looked like I had destroyed the Soviet Union on my way out.

  I demurred telling her that it was rotten, and any catalyst would have set it off.

  Nina then said something that concerned me.

  “Rick, if I remember right a catalyst starts a reaction but it isn’t changed. You have changed.”

  “How do you mean.”

  “Your looks for one, but more importantly you act like a mature confident adult.”

  I thought I had been a mature confident adult for some time now, so didn’t know how to take that. I let it go at the time.

  Mr. Monroe asked me what my near-term plans were. I told him that I had yet to talk to Empress Ping to see how this affected me in China. I don’t think it will be anything bad, but you never know.

  We finished dinner and I could tell that it was time for me to go. Nothing was said, I just felt it, maybe it was me.

  Nina walked me to my car. I hugged her and drew her into a kiss which she returned. However, when we drew back from each other I saw a look on her face that I had come to know. She was looking at me with fear.

  I had a lot to think about on the way home. Had I changed that much? A lot had happened, and I had to react to it. Was I no longer a civilized person?

  At home having late coffee with Mum and Dad I found out that Popeye and Aunt Sybil had both become members of the Royal Order of Purple Porpoises. Good for them. Popeye had earned this several times over.

  It made him one of the senior seamen of the world. He had been interviewed by the Maritime News, so the word was out where it counted for him.

  A copy had been saved for me of the interview. The list of places that Popeye had been to be mind-boggling. Even in this day of jet planes, it would take a long time to match the feat.

  I stayed up late so I could call China. The Empress wasn’t available to take my call, but she wanted me to come to China as soon as possible. I wondered what that was about.

  As I was about to go to bed, I got a late-night call from the White House. Would I please make myself available at ten o’clock tomorrow for a call from the President?

  Since I had no plans, I told them yes. Who was I kidding I would be here for that phone call bar violent circumstances?

  Thinking of violence, I tuned the short wave to BBC overseas to see what the latest on Russia was.

  It was not good. Nikita Khrushchev had stepped down from the leadership of the Soviet Union. At this time no one knew who would replace him. While there was no outright fighting there have been several deaths of high-ranking party members.

  The UN had passed a resolution that if the Soviet Union collapsed a peacekeeping force would be sent in to seize the nuclear weapons. Who would lead the peacekeeping force had not been decided. Several countries wanted leadership with someone else’s troops. In other words, the glory but not the cost.

  At exactly ten o’clock the next morning the phone at our house rang. I picked up the phone and it was the White House switchboard as expected. They asked me to hold for the President.

  He came on quickly, I immediately informed him that I had him on speakerphone with my parents present. No one else. That wasn’t entirely true as I saw Mary’s head peeking around the corner of a couch but what harm could she cause?

  “Richard, I hope you are recovering from your adventure.”

  “I’m in good shape, Mr. President.”

  “That’s more than the Russians can say.”

  “I suppose so. Can you share any thoughts of where this is all going?”

  “That was going to be my question to you. You’ve been there and seen a lot more of it than any of our agencies. The CIA is beside itself over this. They didn’t have any information that the collapse was this imminent. They have no predictions as to the result.”

  “Rick, what do you see as the result?”

  “The creation of a whole bunch of new countries and many of them will have civil wars to decide who ends up in power.”

  “What do you think the US should do?”

  “That is way beyond my pay grade Mr. President.”

  “Let me rephrase that, what would you like the US to do?”

  “Stay out of it. This meets and exceeds the old saying, stay out of a land war in Asia, you can’t win.”

  “I agree with that thought. What about the nuclear bombs?”

  “I don’t even know where they keep them, or I would have gone after them.”

  “Should the US Military?”

  “No! That would be seen as a power grab. You would be better off supporting someone like the French. Everyone knows they don’t have the power to invade Russia. However, they could send in troops to support inspectors.”

  “Who should the UN appoint as a leader?”

  “Again, keep the world powers out of it. Someone that the French, Russians, and the UN would accept.”

  “Who would that be?”

  “I have no idea, that is just the criteria I would suggest. Maybe a Dutch or Argentine General. That way the US’s hands would be clean.”

  “That is food for thought. By the way, the CIA doesn’t believe your story of how you got out of Russia.”

  “Who ca
res what they believe.”

  “They think this demonstrates that you are an MI6 operative.”

  “Tell them they have it completely wrong I work for the Ministry of State Security.”

  “What!”

  “Just kidding. Remind them I won’t be eighteen until this October. I doubt if anyone would hire me.”

  After I hung up Mum told me that saying I worked for the Chinese MSS was a mistake as it would twist the CIA in knots. I couldn’t figure out what was bad about that.

  Other than that, both Mum and Dad agreed with all my answers. We also discussed my going to China soon.

  Chapter 39

  Before I went to China I went to England. My stated reason was to be debriefed by MI6. My real reason was to try to get some guidance in this crazy new world.

  My 707-flight crew seemed genuinely glad to see me back. Beyond their jobs being at stake, I think they liked me, and what they were doing. At times they spent long hours in the air but more than made up for it in downtime in interesting locations.

  Sometimes vacation types like Hawaii and other times interesting places like Beijing. This trip was going home for most of them and that was the best place of all.

  There was a limo waiting for me at the airport to take me to the Plaza. I had a good night's sleep on the plane. I needed the time to let my mind and body catch up with themselves. From Gulag to luxury, Russia to America, to England was taxing on mind and body.

  This was tiring to me, I wondered how thirty-year-old people could handle it. Older than that and they couldn’t do it. I had to stop and laugh at myself at that. What I had gone through would be considered a walk in the park by World War II GIs of all ages.

  I still felt like I had to take time to let my thinking catch up with my situation. What was I hoping to get from this trip?

  Guidance, but guidance in what? I had set some things in motion that would have occurred sooner or later, so I wasn’t a world mover and shaker.

  Though some people might view me like that, so it did give me some clout, but that could fall by the wayside with my first false step.