Death of a Tyrant

by Christopher Nicole

  Tatiana glanced at Galina, and gave a quick nod. They lay down on the stone floor, on their bellies. “Vladimir is going to handcuff you,” Beria said. “Please understand that at the slightest sign of resistance I will shoot you both.”

  Tatiana and Galina lay still, while Vladimir knelt beside them, pulled their wrists behind their backs, and handcuffed them in turn. “That was good thinking,” Beria said. “Now, get up.”

  The two women rose to their knees, and then their feet. Tatiana looked at Priscilla, breathing very slowly and evenly. Galina looked at Helena, in sheer relief at seeing her as yet unharmed. “I have a treat for you,” Beria said. He jerked his head, and Vladimir pushed them into the corridor. “Number Ninety-Seven,” Beria said.

  Vladimir chuckled, confident now that the dreaded Gosykinya was helpless. He walked in front of them to the cell door, opened it at a nod from Beria. Alexei stood against the wall, gazing at them.

  “There is no need to handcuff him,” Beria said. “He is an American.” His tone was redolent of contempt.

  “Tattie?” Alex asked. He had clearly been beaten but there was no lack of spirit in either his voice or his eyes.

  Tatiana returned his gaze, silently.

  “She would prefer not to speak,” Beria said. “She is too humiliated by the catastrophe that has overtaken her. What about this woman? Do you not know her?”

  Alex looked at Galina, frowning. “Yes,” he said, slowly. “Mrs Schermetska. We met in Moscow, in 1942. You lived above Aunt Jennie.”

  “But that was before you served under Comrade Gosykinya in the Pripet,” Beria said, jocularly. “Come along. I have a surprise for you.”

  Alex stepped into the corridor, and checked. “Mom? Mom!” he shouted, and embraced Priscilla. “Oh, my God. I knew you were alive. Joe always said you were alive, before…”

  “I know he is dead,” Priscilla said, quietly. “It is good to see you again, my darling boy.”

  “But…what is happening to us?”

  “You will have to ask this gentleman,” Priscilla said.

  “Number One Hundred and Seven, is it not?” Beria asked Vladimir. Vladimir chuckled some more, hurried ahead of them to unlock the door. Jennie sat in a corner, shrouded in her red-grey hair. She scarcely stirred as the door opened. “You look distraught,” Beria commented. “I have brought Tatiana to see you.”

  Jennie’s head moved, then she stood up. “Tattie?” she whispered. “Oh, you dear girl.”

  “What a family reunion,” Beria said. “Come along.” He marched them to the interrogation room. Jennie tried to get beside Tatiana, but she was pushed ahead. Beria had made the usual arrangements, and there were four men in the room, as well as the doctor and the secretary. “Well, now,” he said, as Vladimir closed the door. “You have spent so many happy hours in here, Tatiana. Now you will spend a last happy hour, but I will be the one laughing. Do you know why?”

  The prisoners stared at him, each possessed by his or her thoughts, his or her own terrors. Tatiana’s face was, as always, composed. Jennie kept looking from one to the other; her body still showed the signs of the beatings she had undergone, and she trembled. Alex was trying to be as composed as Tatiana, but he too was trembling. Galina and Helena were holding hands. Only Priscilla matched Tatiana in her composure, but she never took her eyes from her son.

  “One great happy family,” Beria said, sitting down and throwing one leg across the other. “Jennie, and her best friend, Galina. Where else would Tattie seek refuge, but in the apartment of her mother’s best friend. Who was the mother of her own best friend. You have always trusted in the friendship of Tatiana and her mother, haven’t you, Galina Petrovna?”

  Galina licked her lips. “We are friends, yes,” she said in a low voice.

  “You have been friends for years,” Beria said. “Since your children were children together. Were you not happy to allow your daughter Sophie to go off to summer camp, in 1941, under Tatiana’s care?”

  For the first time Tatiana’s face changed. “You bastard,” she said.

  “You will call me more than that before today is out,” Beria said. “What happened to poor Sophie, Galina? Did you ever find out?”

  It was Alex’s turn to catch his breath, and Beria smiled some more. “My Sophie died fighting the Germans,” Galina said. “This is well known.”

  “That is what was reported for public consumption,” Beria pointed out. “It is not what happened. You!” He swung, pointing at Alex. “Tell us what happened to Sophie Schermetska?”

  Alex licked his lips. “Comrade Schermetska died before I ever reached the Pripet.”

  “Oh, indeed. But how she died was fairly common knowledge, amongst the partisans. And therefore you knew of it.”

  “I know nothing of it,” Alex said stubbornly.

  “Do you think you can play games with me, American?” Beria asked, quietly. “Him first,” he told his people. Two men hurried forward, and strapped Alex to the bars, facing them. Beria himself attached the electrodes. “This will only hurt a little,” he promised you. “We will hurt you seriously, just now.”

  Helena began to cry. While Priscilla continued to watch her son, her face as cold as ice, Beria noticed. “Don’t worry, Princess,” he said. “I will soon get around to you. That is something I have been waiting to do for years. They will hear you screaming in America. But first, this bastard.” He moved to the control box, and Alex inhaled so deep a breath it seemed his lungs would burst.

  “Very well, Lavrenty Pavlovich,” Tatiana said, as Beria moved to the control box. “If you will have it so. I will tell Galina the truth about Sophie.”

  Beria still depressed the button, but only briefly. Alex gave a shout of pain as the electricity coursed through his chest, his entire body arcing away from the frame before it subsided in shuddering gasps. “Then I suggest you do so,” Beria recommended. “This Sophie, this innocent young girl, placed in your care by her loving mother, captured beside you by the Germans, who lay beside you while you were both raped, and killed beside you to escape to the marshes, and who then fought beside you…what did you do with her, Tatiana Andreievna?”

  Tatiana sighed. “I drowned her.”

  *

  Every head in the room turned towards her, even Alex’s, still gasping. “You drowned my Sophie?” Galina asked, incredulously. “You?”

  “She disobeyed an order when in action with the enemy,” Tatiana said. “I had previously made it clear that any insubordination was punishable by death. I had no choice. I led those people, those wolves, by example, by making them afraid of me, and by dispensing equal justice. I could not show mercy, even to my friend, and still hope to lead.” She looked at Beria. “I suppose it was Shatrav told you of this. Shatrav was the one who actually held Sophie under the water.”

  “But you gave the order,” Beria said.

  “Yes,” Tatiana said. “I gave the order. I was the commander.”

  “You bitch!” Galina said.

  “Oh, Tattie,” Jennie moaned.

  “So, now,” Beria said. “I am giving you your chance for revenge, Galina.” He snapped his fingers, and Alex was unstrapped. Left to himself, his knees gave way and he sank to the floor; Priscilla knelt beside him to cradle him in her arms. Tatiana was put in his place, the belts drawn tight. Beria himself applied the clips, between her legs, smiling at her as he did so. “I have looked forward to this for a long time,” he told her. “Now, Galina. Punish her. Oh, do not be afraid of her dying. She is going to die. But if I may make a recommendation, use only a little at first. Make her scream. Even Tatiana Gosykinya will scream, eventually, you know. Then, when she is screaming, you can slowly apply more and more, until she dies. But make sure she knows what is happening to her.”

  He gestured at the box, and Galina slowly moved forward. “And afterwards?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Afterwards, why, I do not think there will be any charges against either you or your daughter, Galina Petrovna
. In fact, I am sure of it.”

  “Galina,” Jennie said. “You cannot do this. You are my friend.”

  “As my daughter was her friend,” Galina said, her words dripping venom.

  “I did what was necessary,” Tatiana said, her voice clear.

  “Make her scream,” Beria said. “Make her scream, Galina. I am sure poor Sophie screamed, as they were pushing her beneath the surface of that swamp. Make her scream.”

  Galina touched the button, tentatively, but enough to send Tatiana’s body arching away from the frame, every muscle standing out like a cord. But she did not scream. “You will have to do better than that,” Beria suggested, and turned, as the door opened. “What the devil…”

  It was Maria, breathless as ever, her hair drifting down from its tight bun. “Ha,” Beria commented. “You are late.”

  “Comrade Commissar,” Maria panted, and Beria saw that there were men behind her.

  He frowned. Kagan? “What are you doing here? Comrade Kruschev?” Then he looked past them as well, at the woman who stood with the guards armed with tommy-guns; of his own four people only two were armed, besides himself, and they carried only pistols. They already had their hands in the air.

  “We found her, you see, Comrade Commissar,” Kagan explained.

  “Then what…” Beria’s head swung to look at Kruschev.

  “General Kagan thought it would be a good idea for Madam Bolugayevska to speak with me before you, Comrade Commissar,” Kruschev said, his normally jovial face grim. Now he pointed. “You are an assassin. You are under arrest.”

  Beria stared at him, then at Kagan, then looked left and right at the other people in the room. But if he expected any of them to come to his rescue he was clearly mistaken; even Maria was standing as still as a stone. Then he acted with surprising suddenness, picking up Galina, who was still standing beside him, and hurling her into the ranks of the men opposite, at the same time drawing his revolver and blasting shots into the corridor. Men fell each way, Sonia tumbled to the ground, and Beria was over them. But as he ran for the corridor, Alex suddenly came out of his pain-trance and threw both arms round his knees. Beria gave a grunt and fell forwards. But now he was like a wild animal, and he still held his gun. He struck down once, twice, as hard as he could, and Alex fell to the floor in a pool of blood.

  Now at last Priscilla spoke. “Alex!” she screamed, again seeking to cradle him in her arms.

  Beria was back on his feet and running along the corridor. Kagan was first to recover, and drew his own pistol as Beria reached the corner. “No,” Kruschev snapped. “He must be brought to trial.” Kagan lowered his gun. “Where can he go?” Kruschev asked.

  Kagan looked at Maria. Beria had disappeared. She licked her lips. “He will take his private elevator to his apartment, and from there use his radio to take control of the city. He has already made his dispositions.”

  Kagan glared at Kruschev. “You should have let me shoot him.”

  “Can he not still be stopped?” Kruschev demanded.

  “He has the ability to seal himself in his apartment,” Maria said.

  “And I cannot tell how many of the people in this building will support him,” Kagan said; of his four men, two had been hit and were being tended by their comrades.

  “Then we must get out of here as rapidly as possible,” Kruschev said.

  “The dispositions cover the apartments of every member of the Politburo,” Maria said. “As well as the Kremlin.”

  “Then we are finished.” Kruschev’s normal chubby ebullience had quite disappeared.

  “Free me,” Tatiana said. “I can get into his apartment,” she said. “Even if it is sealed. I have the combination to his private entrance. I will arrest him.”

  Kruschev snorted. But Kagan was nodding. “Release her,” he told the guards, and they did so.

  Tatiana rubbed her hands together to restore the circulation. “The first thing you must do is secure this floor.”

  “Of course.” Kagan snapped his fingers, and his own people followed the corridor to the stairs and the general elevator.

  “Will they assault us?” Kruschev asked.

  “Not until he is sure of all his other dispositions,” Tatiana said. “Now, there are certain things I want.”

  “There is no time for that.”

  “There is time, Comrade General.”

  “By the time you get to him, he will have issued his orders, and we shall all be dead men.”

  “It cannot happen that quickly, Comrade General. I shall persuade Comrade Beria to rescind his orders. If you will guarantee, before these witnesses, that I shall be restored as a member of the KGB, and promoted colonel.” Kagan nodded. “I also wish your guarantee that the people who were arrested with me are allowed to leave Russia, freely and without hindrance.”

  Kagan looked at Galina, who was just sitting up, her head cradled in Helena’s arms. “Including her?”

  “Not including her. I should not think she would wish to leave.”

  “And your mother?”

  “Mother stays with me. I am speaking of the Princess, Prince Alexei” — she glanced at Alexei; Priscilla had staunched the flow of blood from his head, but he was still unconscious — “and the two men, Romanowski and Morgan.”

  “Romanowski is a Russian. Isn’t he?”

  “Of course,” Tatiana said. “But he wishes to emigrate. Time is passing, Comrade General.”

  “Give her what she wants,” Kruschev said; he was clearly in a very frightened state.

  “Very well, Tatiana,” Kagan said. “Your friends will be deported, after you have arrested Comrade Beria. In fact, it seems to me that you may need some help in carrying out the arrest. You will take Morgan and Romanowski with you. I am sure you would rather trust them than any of my people. Let them prove that they are on our side one last time, eh?”

  Tatiana knew what he was anticipating, and even hoping. She tossed her head. “I agree with you. I will need her, as well.” She pointed at Maria.

  “Me?” Maria cried.

  “You Maria Feodorovna. You should consider that if you do not prove yourself to be against Beria, you may well find yourself standing against a wall…beside him. I will also need guns,” Tatiana said. “For myself, Romanowski, and Morgan. And clothes.”

  “Where am I supposed to find clothes?”

  “There is a storeroom where prisoners’ clothes are kept, just along that corridor. There is also an armoury.” She smiled. “The clothes do not have to fit.”

  Kagan nodded, and signalled three of his guards to fetch the gear. “Tommy guns,” Tatiana called after them.

  “You do understand, Tatiana Andreievna,” Kagan said, “that if you try to betray me, us, you and your companions will all be executed.”

  “I have no intention of betraying you, Comrade General.”

  “Wait a moment,” Sonia said. “I have a stake in this.”

  “You are needed to address the Supreme Soviet, Comrade,” Kruschev said. “We cannot risk anything happening to you. No matter how much you may personally hold against Beria.”

  “I will go,” Priscilla said.

  “You, Princess?” Kagan asked.

  Gently Priscilla laid Alex on the floor. “I have as big a score to settle as anyone. That man murdered my husband, and now has all but murdered my son.”

  “I commanded the American operation. You were my prisoner.”

  Priscilla’s lips twitched in a cold smile. “You were the messenger boy, General Kagan. Were you not?”

  They gazed at each other, and Tatiana remembered the look Priscilla had given her, the day she was leaving the Lyubyanka for the gulag. She wondered if Kagan felt the same as she had done? Now he shrugged. “You have my permission.”

  “Will you find out about my daughter?” Sonia asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Then let us make haste.” Tatiana was already dressing herself. Now Priscilla too was given a KGB uniform, and a mo
ment later they were face to face with Andrew and Halstead, who had also been dressed and armed.

  “What the hell is going on?” Halstead demanded.

  “Come.” Tatiana ushered them into the private elevator, and they went up. “We have been given the task of arresting Comrade Beria,” Tatiana said.

  “Us?” Andrew asked. “When Kagan has the whole KGB at his disposal?”

  “That is the one thing Kagan does not have,” Tatiana explained. “He cannot be sure who, if any, of the KGB will back him against Beria. The facts of Stalin’s death are not yet known. The fact of his death is not widely known, if it is known at all. Besides…” she smiled. “There is another point, much in Kagan’s mind. He knows Beria will not surrender easily. Some of us may be killed. He has promised you all safe conduct out of Russia, and he has promised me reinstatement in the KGB. He will not break his word. But it would be a great relief to him if some of us, me in particular, were to stop a bullet.” Maria turned to look at her, face ashen. “I am sure he will not shoot you, Maria,” Tatiana said, reassuringly.

  “I do not understand why you need me at all,” Maria complained. “I know nothing about guns and killing.”

  “We need you, Maria Feodorovna,” Tatiana said, “because I lied to Kagan when I told him I could get into the apartment by the private entrance. Beria did give me the combination, once, but I have forgotten it. But you know it, don’t you.” Maria swallowed, and the car came to a stop. “We are in your hands, Maria Feodorovna,” Tatiana said. “But should you try to betray us, be sure I will kill you.”

  Maria licked her lips, and led them into an empty corridor. “The Commissar’s apartment is on the next floor,” she whispered. “There is a private staircase. But it is always guarded by people who are absolutely loyal to him.”

  “And in the apartment itself?”

  “There are no guards. But they can be summoned at the touch of a button.”

  “But if, as you say, the apartment will have been sealed save for this private entrance, that is the only way any reinforcements can get in,” Tatiana suggested.