Liebknecht stated that the implementation of Plan Three would require Russians who were accustomed to violence. He had sent one of his agents, who had been involved in the meeting with Zelek at Königsberg, to speak with the lieutenant concerning this matter. Zelek had told him in no uncertain terms that he should look no further, that he himself and two or three of his trusted companions would handle the operation. Liebknecht was quite concerned about Hanna’s reaction to her brother engaging in such a dangerous mission. Kidnapping a man like Zedoff would be extremely difficult. From the woman’s description, he was exceptionally powerful, suspicious of everyone, and on the alert at all times. In addition, his secret police organization, the OGPU, searched constantly for possible plots against the government or themselves.
Hanna wrote back at once. Zelek was to take charge. He would no more allow another to do his work than Hanna herself, and this was their struggle.
The following day, Hanna spent the morning with her attorney, revising her will. After a number of bequests to old friends like the Rosenthals, Fergls, and Elfriede, and to various charitable organizations, the remainder was divided into five parts; one for Jules; a second for Paul; a third for Zelek; and the fourth and fifth to be held in escrow. The last two were to be administered by Jules for the express purpose of finding Reba and Stephen. At Paul’s majority, he was to take over the search. If any of the missing was found, one of the remaining shares would go to that person, and the final share would go to the second, when found. At the end of twenty-five years, if any funds remained in escrow, they were to be apportioned equally among all her remaining loved ones.
CHAPTER 44
As the train drew to a stop at the Russian frontier check point, Hanna’s body grew tense with apprehension. “Everything is all right”, she repeated to herself time and again. First of all, nobody is looking for a person who killed a Tzarist general and two of his White Russian Cossacks over twenty years ago. Actually, the Communists might pin a medal on the killer for doing away with the enemy. Secondly, her papers were impeccable. German citizenship had been conferred on her years ago, and her passport was in prime order. Still she sneaked in the sign of small horns and spit through them.
The border agent stepped inside the car and began inspecting papers, looking carefully at each identity and person, as if all were White Russians, bent on doing mischief. Hanna handed over her passport and an official document. The agent nodded with approval at the document. It was a letter from the colonel of Zelek’s regiment, stating that Hanna Charnoff, sister of Comrade Lieutenant Zelek Barlak, was visiting her brother, and his deep respects were offered to all who afforded her a comfortable passage. With a flourish, the agent handed back her letter and stamped her passport. Hanna breathed a sigh of relief. Liebknecht’s suggestion of Zelek obtaining such a document had worked its magic so far.
The three-day ride to Smolensk was one of wonder. The food, the spirited conversation in her mother tongue, the sight of the land which held those she loved–all gripped at her heart. And the people! No longer were they scowling in hopelessness. Now they were arguing about everything, the government, the railroad system, the food in the dining car being too bland. Shades of Hershel. He would have shouted in glee, for the hated Tzar’s yoke was forever broken.
Zelek was waiting at the station. He was in marvelous health, his face and body were no longer pinched with hunger, and he looked so splendid in his officer’s uniform. Standing stiffly at his side was a tall, smoldering-eyed soldier.
“Sister Hanna!” he greeted her affectionately, kissing her with gusto.
“Little brother,” she smiled back at him. “Or must I now call you Comrade Lieutenant Brother?”
“Always little brother.” He kissed her again. “I will always remember that name.”
His soldier ogled Hanna’s traveling clothes and her expensive luggage being lowered from the car. Here was certainly a capitalist of the first order.
“This is Comrade Vladimir,” said Zelek. “He feels more at home in a prison cell, where I will soon put him if he doesn’t pick up those bags.”
Vladimir stopped staring at Hanna at once and got her luggage under control.
Outside was a light traveling carriage, its horse held in check by a slim, savage-looking soldier. “This is Comrade Yuri,” said Zelek. He helped Hanna climb onto the wagon. “We have a dasha about six versts out of town,” he explained.
Yuri slapped the horse sharply, and it trotted off through the city streets out into the countryside. “These men know about the plan,” said Zelek. “They can be trusted.”
“Very well.” But Hanna felt uncomfortable knowing that people close to her brother were involved. It would be so easy for one of them to talk. But, perhaps it was the only way to obtain help. What they were here to do was too perilous to be entrusted to a casual acquaintance. “What are the plans?” she asked.
“We have been trailing Zedoff for three days now, and he does follow a cautious form of schedule. We thought of taking him when he came home some evening.”
The fall air had turned chilly, and Hanna drew her fur coat more snugly around herself. “You must be very careful, little brother. Herr Liebknecht said that Zedoff is a very powerful man.”
Zelek chuckled. “That is why I brought these two criminals along with me.” Yuri looked back and smiled. “They have knocked out more people while committing robberies than the Tzar had palaces.” Zelek rolled a cigarette and fired it. “I am married now,” he said.
Hanna grasped his hand with excitement. “To whom?”
“A woman named Sophia, a Jewess. She lives in Moscow. We have a son.”
“Oh, no!” said Hanna in wonder. “How marvelous? How old is he? What is his name?”
“He is three months old. His name is Israel.”
Hanna’s eyes clouded over. She leaned over and kissed him. “Thank you, little brother,” she said softly. “I give my blessings to all of you.”
“He is big,” said Zelek. “Big bones. Bright eyes.”
“And Sophia?”
“She attends the university. She is going to become a lawyer. I have a picture of us at the dasha.”
The carriage had turned down a narrow drive into a stand of trees and came to a halt in front of a small, isolated cottage. It was a humble place, more of a shack than a true dasha. “It was the best Herr Liebknecht could provide,” said Zelek.
“It will do,” said Hanna.
While Zelek lit a kerosene lamp, Vladimar carried in her luggage. It was more than simple inside. Like a military barrack, which it seemed with army cots standing along the walls, and army blankets neatly rolled on them. “We have been using this place since coming here,” explained Zelek. “I hope we don’t have to occupy it much longer.” He motioned to a rear door. “The outhouse is at the back.”
“It will do well enough,” said Hanna again.
Zelek took a picture out of a field case. Hanna looked at it under the lamp. Sophia was about Zelek’s height, a slim, dark haired, bright eyed woman.
“She is beautiful,” she exclaimed.
Zelek was lighting another cigarette. “She is,” he said, pride in his voice. “Luckily the baby resembles her.” He turned abruptly to Vladimar standing quietly to one side. “We go now.”
“So soon?” said Hanna, a band of fear suddenly catching at her chest.
“Yes. We are here to do a job. We may get lucky tonight. Or tomorrow. We must not lose an opportunity.” He did not make an issue of leaving, merely turned and started out, Vladimar on his heels.
He is a commander, said Hanna to herself, a deep respect for what he had become sweeping over her. She looked about. A small stove stood to one side with a few pieces of wood underneath. She took off her coat, opened a case, and drew out a heavy, practical sweater, which she donned. She placed a couple of pieces of wood on the well-banked fire, put on a pot of water, and made a cup of tea. She sat on one of the simple chairs at the simple table and tried to get he
r heart beat back to normal. Everything that was happening was like a story in a dream. After all these years, she could not believe she was sitting in this far corner of Russia waiting to risk the lives of her beloved Zelek and his loyal comrades. For what? For ashes that were cold and dead? Zedoff might turn the tables on Zelek, might kill him in the instant it took to kill poor Hershel. Hershel. She could never become accustomed to calling him Levi. And what are the chances that Zedoff knows anything about the case? It is true that the Jew in Kovno said he had asked about her and Jakob and Hershel. Therefore, he must know. He must.
The cloak of evening fell, and the hours passed. Hanna sipped away at the tea. She was not hungry enough to investigate some of the tins resting on a shelf.
It was midnight when she heard the sounds of a carriage approaching! Heart thumping, she turned down the wick of the lamp and stood by the door, her hand at her throat.
“Hanna,” she heard a low voice. Quickly, she pulled open the door. In the dim shadows, she saw Zelek and his men pull a body out of the carriage. Unable to breathe, she turned up the lamp. The three men carried in an inert figure, bound hand and foot, with a heavy gag over its mouth. They lowered it onto a cot.
“Tie him down,” said Zelek, breathing evenly. He turned to Hanna. “We surprised him coming into his flat. Yuri hit him on the head so hard that we thought it was fractured.”
With practiced efficiency, Vladimar and Yuri cut the binds on hands and legs, and then tied them securely under the cot. Yuri removed the gag. Zelek leaned over the man. “He is still unconscious. Give me some water.”
Yuri brought over a pot of water and Zelek threw it into the face of the bound man. He began to cough, and then his eyes opened. They were glazed for only a few seconds, then, with a show of will, they cleared and became alert.
“Another pot,” ordered Zelek.
The man controlled his breathing. “It is not necessary,” he said. His voice was strained, but still forceful.
“Be quiet,” ordered Zelek, calmly, but with authority in his words.
When the water came, Zelek poured it onto the prisoner’s face. The man tried to control his breathing, but Zelek cunningly saw that some of it went into his mouth and nose. He started choking.
Hanna could barely control the flashes of feeling that were sweeping through her. She edged into a position to see the man more clearly. He was strongly built, about fifty years old, tinges of gray at his temples to show the years. He wore a well-trimmed beard and mustache. He was handsome, she admitted, in a cold way, like a jungle animal bunched to spring.
Zelek threw the empty pot into a corner and pulled over a chair, sitting down by the cot. “What is your name?” he asked. Hanna found it difficult to associate her little brother, Zelek, with this hard, confident man in uniform.
The prisoner took in a deep breath. “I am Mikhail Zedoff.” He said no more. He was evidently going to speak as little as possible until he learned what was transpiring. His eyes flashed about the room. They took in each person as if a photograph was being etched in his brain. He controlled very well the evident surprise he must have experienced at the sight of Hanna.
“Come over,” said Zelek to Hanna. She stepped close and looked fully into Zedoff’s face. “Do you want to question him?”
“Yes.” The fear stifling her every breath suddenly passed. This man was quite possibly her enemy. She must learn the truth. “Twenty-one years ago, you killed a man named Hershel.” It worked! Zedoff’s eyes flickered for the slightest instant, and then came under control. Hanna’s heart leaped. He is the one! Zedoff remained silent. “I want an answer,” said Hanna. He said nothing.
“Step back,” said Zelek. Hanna turned towards him. “Go outside.”
Without a word, she did as she was told. As she stepped through the door, she heard Zelek say, “Put the gag back on. Tightly.”
She walked into the woods to escape the sounds she heard inside, and after a while, Vladimar came for her. She stepped into the room. The front of Zedoff’s pants had been ripped open. A blanket now covered that area. His face was bloody and swollen.
“I think this dog will bark now,” said Zelek, breathing hard. “Unloosen the gag.”
The moment it was off, Zedoff let out a series of groans. They waited impatiently until he gained control. “That is just a sample of what we know,” said Zelek roughly. “Now, answer the comrade lady.”
Hanna stepped closer. She was surprised that she did not feel the least bit of remorse. “Twenty-one years ago,” she repeated, “you killed a man named Hershel.”
“His name was Levi,” said Zedoff, barely able to speak. He was still in shock that anyone would dare to do to him what these men had done. He had inflicted much of the same torture upon others, but had never dreamed it could be so agonizing. “His alias was Hershel.”
“Tell me about him,” ordered Hanna.
“May I please have a sip of water?” he asked. Zelek nodded, so Yuri filled the pot and held it to Zedoff’s shattered mouth. He sucked at it with pain and greed, and then sighed. “Levi was a German spy. His mission was to sow dissent among the people against the government. Under orders of Baron Belinski, I was one of the men detailed to find him and to take him alive. We tried to capture him in Lithuania, but he escaped. From what we learned, he came upon a general and two of his men, and was killed. His death was an unfortunate accident.”
“You were seeking a Jewish girl and a Hasid. Why?”
Zedoff’s eyes betrayed him again. How could this evidently wealthy woman know about that? He took in another deep breath. The torture he had gone through left no doubt that this slim officer and his two criminal conspirators knew how to get a dead man to talk. “They killed the general and one of his men while trying to help Levi to escape.”
“Were they involved in the plot?”
“We strongly suspected that they were. However, I must explain that I was merely one of the men assigned to finding Levi.”
“Only one of the men?” asked Hanna evenly. “You were a captain in the Okhrana.”
Zelek’s head shot up at that information. He had not known. A captain in such an organization was power beyond belief. “Step back and turn around,” he ordered Hanna. She did so. She heard the thud of a blow and a cry of pain. After a few seconds, Zelek told her to continue. Hanna looked back at the prisoner. Zelek had broken his nose with a club. Zedoff was having trouble breathing. He was spitting out blood that was gagging him.
“Listen to me closely, murderer,” said Hanna harshly. “You sent away the family of the woman. Tell me exactly what happened.”
Understanding suddenly exploded in the eyes of Zedoff. Those standing around could literally smell the sense of terror that gripped him. “You are Hanna Barlak,” he whispered. “You were reported dead.”
“I am not dead.”
Zedoff closed his eyes and turned his head to one side. He was doomed. There was no walking away from these people.
“Zedoff,” came the merciless voice of Zelek. “There are some answers we want.”
He turned back towards his tormentors. “Why should I answer? I am a dead man.” Then he tightened his lips. He had to fight for life, even against impossible odds. “Look, Comrade Lieutenant. All this happened over twenty years ago. I will tell you everything you want to know. But why should a bright fellow like yourself destroy your career, perhaps your life, and those of your companions. I am OGPU. You know as well as I that they will not rest until they track down my killers. So, after I tell you everything, why don’t you agree to open the door and let me walk free?”
Zelek snorted in derision. “And have you put me before a firing squad a day later? The army did not train a fool.”
“No, no. Listen. Like I said, a bright fellow like you, with a great career before him, understands power. I have something that will not only protect you, but will grant you the power to face up to anyone. Even the OGPU will treat you with respect.”
Zelek’s eyes gl
eamed. “And what is that?”
“I have the names of all the OGPU agents in western Russia and Europe. I would give them to you. If you keep them in a safe place, nobody will ever challenge you.”
Zelek leaned closer to the pleading man. “I will explain something to you. I am Zelek Barlak, the brother. Do you think there is anything in this world that will keep you alive after we are done? Of course, I will kill you. Did you expect a medal? The question is merely how you will die. I would be very happy to tear out each word on the wings of a groan. It is yours to decide.”
Zedoff closed his eyes again. There had been too many dark rooms and screams in his life for him not to know the truth of what this hard-faced lieutenant said. Everyone would talk. It was just a matter of discovering into which hole to insert the hot poker. If he had to die, he might as well go as painlessly as possible. “Very well,” he said, opening his eyes. “Ask away.”
“Tell me about the family,” came Hanna’s relentless voice.
Zedoff shrugged. “I don’t really know. At the beginning, we just watched them. We questioned your uncle, what was his name? Samuel?”
“Yes, Samuel,” said Hanna.
“There was also a fellow who owned a sawmill.”
“He was Zelda’s brother-in-law,” explained Hanna to Zelek. She turned back to Zedoff. “You killed them, too.”
“One of my men overdid it,” said the prisoner. “They told us you were in Germany, but didn’t know where.”
“How did you find us?” asked Hanna, her heart breaking.
“We followed that fellow, Timoshinkov. He led us to you in Munich.”
Hanna’s voice took on a tone of steel. “What happened to Stephen?”
“Stephen? Oh, yes. Timoshinkov. We questioned him upon his return, to see if he was involved in Levi’s plot or had helped you escape. Then we sent him to Siberia.”
Enemy of the Tzar Page 43