He tried to get up, but fresh waves of nausea assaulted him and all strength seemed to be sucked from his legs. Experience told him he was on the verge of passing out. Then he truly would be useless to anyone.
“Curse you, Andrei!” he railed at himself. “You are weak and worthless!”
He took a breath. “God, help me!”
He forced himself to his feet. The yard spun around for a moment, but eventually it stopped and he willed his feet into motion. He had no idea what to do or where to go, but he could not allow defeat to consume him. And with each step he felt his stamina return. Vaguely he heard the sound of an approaching engine, but his mind was so full of other concerns he did not give it a thought.
He turned a corner, glad just to be walking and forgetting to be wary as well. He nearly ran headlong into Stephan. They stared at each other, equal expressions of shock on their faces.
Stephan regained his composure first. “So you have flown the coop. You were a fool to come here.”
“You murderer!”
“More correctly, executioner.”
“I don’t care about that. Tell me where she is!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Where is Talia—the kitchen girl. What have you done with her?”
“What is this, Andrei Sergeiovich? Did you fall in love with the kitchen girl?” Stephan laughed. “The kitchen girl? Ha! Ha! And now you think she went the way of the Romanovs.” He laughed even harder. “This is rich. Priceless.”
“Tell me, you murderous dog!” Andrei advanced a step, his earlier weakness now all but forgotten in his rage. He did not wonder why Stephan was alone, or if others were close-by.
“All the guilty are dead!” Stephan retorted with enough arrogance to balance his sudden sense of aloneness. “Was she guilty, Andrei? Was she helping to free the bloodsucker? She deserved to die then.” Suddenly, Stephan drew his side arm. “But you will soon join—”
But Andrei neither heard Stephan’s final words, nor did he see the pistol, for he had already thrown himself into the attack. It probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. He had gone well beyond rational thought.
Though Stephan must surely have been expecting the attack, Andrei’s force was daunting. He was slammed up against the wall of the house with such stunning force, he dropped the pistol. Andrei continued his offensive, smashing his large fist into Stephan’s jaw. Stephan dodged one blow, and Andrei’s fist painfully struck the wall, but still Andrei pummeled him. And Andrei had seen so much blood that day it hardly fazed him when streams of red oozed down his adversary’s face. He heard the cartilage in Stephan’s nose crack and vaguely remembered when, as a boy in Katyk, he had watched Stephan fight another boy and get his nose broken for the first time.
But soon Andrei had to let up his barrage, at least momentarily, as his fist cramped. Stephan seized the opportunity, dodging to the left with a deft sidestep even as he used the momentum to smash his left fist into the side of Andrei’s head.
Andrei was thrown off-balance only a moment before he steadied himself and threw a right uppercut. Stephan blocked this, and for several minutes the fight swung back and forth. Stephan tried to make a couple of lunges for the pistol, but Andrei managed to kick it out of reach.
Stephan landed a blow that sent Andrei sprawling to the ground. The fight might have ended then, but Stephan was too full of rage to do the logical thing. Instead he dove at Andrei, fists striking blows from both sides. They tussled on the ground, one minute Stephan taking the advantage, the next Andrei.
At first Andrei wanted to kill Stephan, yet as the fight progressed he realized this would not help him find Talia—or bring her back if she was dead. He didn’t want to kill. There had already been too much death.
It was then, as he attempted to dodge another blow by rolling away from Stephan, who was now on top, that Andrei’s shoulder pressed against something hard. The pistol. It was the only way to end this thing. He hoped he would not have to use it, but it would give him the advantage he needed. If only Stephan had not also realized the gun was near. Andrei gave Stephan a hard shove. He then twisted around and grabbed the pistol. When Stephan turned back for another attack, he found himself facing his pistol.
“It’s over, Stephan!” Andrei aimed the weapon at Stephan’s heart.
“I don’t think you have the guts to kill me,” sneered Stephan.
“No,” Andrei agreed, “but I can hurt you.” He cocked the weapon, aimed the gun at Stephan’s head, and prompted him to start walking.
“Where are we going?”
“You have a vehicle out front that should come in handy.”
They walked around to the front of the house. There were two or three guards standing by a truck. They gaped in surprise at the pair as they approached, obviously helpless to do anything lest the important commissar from Moscow get a bullet in the head.
Andrei made Stephan get into the driver’s seat, continuing to hold the pistol on him, and they drove away from the House of Special Purpose. Andrei would never see it again except in his nightmares.
47
A mile north of town, Andrei made Stephan stop the truck and get out.
“You won’t get away, Andrei.”
“I’m already away.”
“For now. But I’ll find you. I’ll get you.”
Drained now of practically all emotion, Andrei wearily shook his head. “We’ll see.”
“The only way for you to get away from me is to leave the country, and even then, you’ll have to keep looking over your shoulder.”
Instead of a response, Andrei slid into the driver’s seat, shifted into gear, and drove off. What did it matter anyway, if he couldn’t find Talia? Still, even in his despair, he could not give up. Stephan had never actually said Talia had been hurt. There was still a chance. There must be a chance.
He circled around the town toward the south. The Whites and the Czechs were strongest there, and if there was a way of escape, it would be in this direction. It might also be that Bruce, realizing it was only a matter of time before he was captured too, had gone to the Whites. Perhaps he had found Talia and taken her also. Maybe Daniel was there—
Andrei knew he was dreaming. Even if he could hook up with the Whites, he wasn’t about to leave this area until he was certain Talia was gone. He wondered if he could risk another visit to town. Perhaps he had missed her before and she would be there now.
After driving five miles, he stopped the truck near a steep canyon, jumped out and, putting the vehicle into gear, sent it over the edge of the road into the canyon. That might throw off pursuit for a short time at least. He was so completely exhausted and hungry that he could hardly think straight, much less continue his search. He had to find a place to rest for a few minutes, and he thought the old deserted barn was not far—at least that had been his plan when he ditched the truck. He would be in trouble if he had miscalculated.
He walked for a half mile, across fields, scrambling through brush and vaulting fences. By the time he caught sight of the barn, he could barely drag his tired body there. Once inside, he threw himself onto a mound of hay in a corner, and though he had not intended to do so, he fell instantly asleep.
It had to be several hours later when he awoke, for the broad light of day no longer splintered through the cracks in the walls. But that was not the first thing he saw. When he rolled over, there was a figure, hidden in the evening shadows, seated beside him in the hay. He rubbed his eyes and looked up, wondering if he was still dreaming. But this was a sweet dream, and it made him forget all the horror that had so recently been haunting his sleep.
She reached a hand to brush straw from his tangled hair, but he took her hand and knew that the soft, tender feel of her was very real.
“Talia . . . you are alive!” He nudged her to him, and she came into his arms. He now knew for certain that she was indeed a dream, but one from which he would never awake.
“Of course I am, my love. We yet h
ave a life to be lived together.”
His lips sought hers in hungry passion for what he feared he had lost, and what he hoped for the future.
A timid sound interrupted from a short distance away. When Andrei glanced in its direction, he saw Bruce, his back turned politely toward the couple.
“I do hate to be a wet blanket,” Bruce said, full of apology, “but we really ought not to linger here very long.”
Andrei sat up. “Is there a minute to fill me in on what has been happening? Talia, what happened to you? Why couldn’t I find you?” Andrei spoke in English and the conversation continued in that language. Talia, who had a better mastery of English than Andrei, had to help occasionally with interpretation.
“Had I known you had been released from jail I would have come here immediately,” she said.
“I wasn’t exactly released.”
Deeming it safe to do so, Bruce turned and faced the pair seated in the hay. “You escaped? What?” As Andrei nodded, he continued, “Then they are after you?”
“With a vengeance, I fear,” said Andrei. “Commissar Kaminsky is an old adversary, and I’m certain he won’t rest until I’m caught. But I looked everywhere for you. What happened? And do you know what is going on now?”
“Do you know what became of the Romanovs?” Talia asked, and when Andrei nodded grimly, she went on, “I had been let go from my job in the kitchen. I heard they were going to move the family, so I decided to hide outside the house in hopes of getting some idea of where they might go, or something. I heard the shooting of the executioners. I saw the . . . bodies being carried out. Then one of the guards caught me. They held me in the jail—”
“We must have been there at the same time then,” said Andrei. “Were you still there this morning when I escaped?”
“They released me last night. I finally convinced them I knew nothing. It was hard knowing you were in the jail, but I dared not say anything about you—”
“That was wise, Talia, otherwise they would never have let you go.”
“I didn’t care for my protection, but I knew it would help nothing if we were both locked up—and Daniel, too.”
“Did you know they took him away early this morning, apparently to deport him?” asked Andrei.
“I’ve been at the British Consul for hours trying to get him released,” said Bruce. “And those blackguard Reds had already deported him and said nothing! The first chance I get, I will create an international incident over this. See how far Lenin will get without foreign aid.”
“I pray Daniel is safe,” said Talia.
“I have no doubt he can take care of himself,” said Bruce. “But now we must concentrate on getting ourselves away from here.”
“You and Talia should have no difficulty—” Andrei began.
But Talia broke in. “We will stay together. On that point there will be no debate!” She folded her arms together adamantly and with her eyes dared him to dispute her.
Andrei smiled with pride and deep affection. She was indeed a treasure in which each moment he seemed to discover a new and more precious gem.
“Our best chance then would be to try to hook up with the White Army.” Andrei glanced down at his jacket with its Red Army insignias and immediately stripped it off, tossing it into a corner. “Will I pass as a good monarchist?” he asked wryly.
“Why not?” Talia replied. “You are a Russian prince.”
Andrei was saved pondering that sobering thought as Bruce began to suggest a plan.
“I believe Captain Sedov might help us with that,” explained Bruce. “He’s the officer who helped Daniel on his first trip to Siberia and who has been in contact with us since our arrival in Ekaterinburg. I believe he is still in town. I doubt he even knows about what happened to the Romanovs, since it has hardly been made public knowledge. At any rate, I can slip into town in order to enlist his aid. He has also been in contact with the Whites, so I am certain he could get us through the lines.”
“That might take time,” said Andrei.
“Would you feel safe staying here?”
“As far as I know, no one suspects this barn as a rendezvous point.”
“Then I’ll go now and be back in a couple of hours, should all go well.”
“Do be careful, Lord Findochty,” said Talia.
“I only hope no one tries to talk to me.” A wry grin bent the Brit’s lips.
As Bruce started to leave, Andrei called after him, “Would it be possible for you to bring back some food? I am nearly starved enough to try the taste of roots and insects.”
Bruce nodded, then exited the barn, leaving Andrei and Talia to a long, uncertain wait.
Bruce did not return to the barn until after midnight, but Captain Sedov was with him. They brought with them disguises for each. An hour later, dressed as peasants, the little group of fugitives left the barn and trekked by foot south across the countryside, avoiding roads and populous areas. They encountered the first outpost of Whites the following evening. The password Sedov knew had been changed, and there had been a tense moment before an acquaintance of the captain appeared and vouched for them.
Without conclusive proof, the commanders refused to give up hope that the Romanovs had survived. And regardless, they were determined to fight on against the Bolshevik menace. If they could not put Nicholas back on the throne, they could surely find a far better leader than the usurper, Lenin.
After a night in the White camp, Andrei, Talia, and Bruce were helped on their return journey to Petrograd. They traveled by train when it was safe to do so, but also by truck or even horse cart. It took them about a week.
As the three fugitives were viewing their first welcome glimpse of Petrograd, many miles away to the east the White Army pushed into Ekaterinburg and captured the city. A contingent of Whites rushed immediately to the Ipatiev House, only to find their worst fears realized. Their beloved tsar was dead, along with his entire family.
48
Andrei and Talia bid Bruce good-bye at the British embassy. The Brit’s papers were still in good order, and there was no reason for him to be denied departure. No government officials were aware of his part in the rescue attempt. Still, he decided wisely to waste no time in leaving.
Even as Andrei bid his new friend farewell, he realized that he himself could not remain in Russia either. He and Talia had discussed that possibility and now it was a reality. Stephan had come to Petrograd and had stormed into Anna’s home with his Cheka goons in search of Andrei. Luckily, Andrei had anticipated this and had been in hiding in various safe places around the city. Stephan had also arrested Rudy and interrogated him thoroughly before releasing him. Thus far, Kaminsky had made no other threats against Andrei’s family, but they all realized that such was an ever present possibility. The only way to lessen that threat was for Andrei to put himself completely out of reach of the Cheka.
He had discussed this with Yuri and had come to the logical conclusion. What he had not considered was how difficult it would be to tell his mother. Arranging to meet Anna in the Alexander Gardens he tried to broach the subject. The light of the afternoon sun reflecting in her eyes made her seem younger than her fifty-eight years. Somehow that made it a little easier for Andrei. He did not have the sense that he was leaving a frail old woman to fend for herself.
“So, Andrushka, this must be a very serious discussion you have in mind!” Anna smiled, not in a patronizing way, but rather with affection. “You have gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange this meeting.” She obviously was referring to the disguise he had donned of an old man.
“Yes, Mama, I’m afraid it is. I have been home a week now, and you must realize that I cannot keep up this life of hiding much longer.”
She nodded.
“Unfortunately, it would be different for me than it was for Papa. No one was ever specifically after him, and he was able to easily blend into society in a backwater peasant village. I fear Stephan Kaminsky will be relentless in his pursuit.
”
“I don’t know what went wrong with that boy,” Anna sighed.
“Well, anyway, Mama, I fear the time has come for me to leave Russia.”
“I expected it might come to that. And I must admit I’d rather you leave than be mixed up with those Bolsheviks again. I’d be afraid that the same thing would happen to you that happened to Stephan.”
“I was afraid of that, too, Mama. That is partly why I did quit.”
“Where will you go Andrushka?”
“Talia and I will go to America.”
“That is good. At least you will have family there.”
Andrei was glad there was something in the situation to help ease his mother’s mind. When word reached the American Embassy of Daniel’s deportation, they had moved quickly to take Mariana and the children into their protectorate, essentially giving them asylum. The Soviet government had at first insisted that as a Russian citizen, Mariana could not leave the country without proper documents—and they quickly revoked her previous travel papers. Because of the children, and the new baby she had recently announced was on the way, a clandestine escape was deemed imprudent. Either she would leave the country legally or not at all. Then Trent Industries became involved and began pulling contracts with various business concerns in Russia. It did not take long for Lenin to see that one puny woman was not worth the loss of desperately needed revenue from the contracts. Papers were issued, but Mariana had to leave immediately lest the volatile Soviet government change its mind. She had but fifteen minutes to say good-bye to her family before her train departed.
“Mama, it won’t be too hard for you to lose us both all at once?” Andrei asked, his attention returning to the present moment.
“Of course it will be hard, but not more than I can bear. It helps that God in His grace has brought Misha back to me.”
“And you will soon have a new grandchild to dote upon?”
“It will be Yuri’s job now to fill my home again.” Anna paused, then took a package from her coat pocket. She held the familiar leather pouch out to Andrei. “I guessed that the purpose of this meeting might be to announce your travel plans. I wanted to be prepared.”
The Russians Collection Page 267