by Earl Nelson
At the rear of the building, as I walked down the alley, I found a fire escape, it was nothing fancy, just iron grated stairs that went from the 2nd floor clear to the ground. There was no gate preventing someone from walking up. Removing my boots. I walked up the steps as silently as I could.
At the top of the stairs, there was a wooden door. Beside it was a window. Just for luck, I tried the door to see if it was unlocked. It wasn’t it. I tried the window. It also was either locked or jammed shut from years of disuse. I tried to look through the window. But could see nothing, as the window looked as though it had never been washed.
Not having any fancy cutting tools. Nor knowing how to pick the locks on the door. I chose the simplest method. I took my shirt off and placed it against the glass. And broke it with the handle of the six-shooter which I brought with me.
It shattered the glass and sounded like the world had exploded. I stood still waiting for action. Nothing happened, nobody stirred. Not even a dog barked. Clearing the broken glass around the window, I then felt for a latch. It was there, but it was frozen shut from years of disuse.
I carefully tapped the rest of the glass out of the frame of the window, making certain that I got it all so that I wouldn't cut myself when I stepped through.
After I had removed the fragments. I stepped through into a dark room. There was a little light from the outside, shining through the now nonexistent window. It lit up the room just enough that I could see a door across the way.
The room was empty. There was nothing in it. So, I crossed to the door and quietly tried it. I cautiously turned the knob, trying not to create any sounds. It opened easily. As though it had been used.
I opened the door, to a dark hallway. Again, I listened carefully and could hear nothing that indicated the building was occupied. It looked like everyone had gone home for the day.
Some stairs came up the center of the floor creating a short hallway on each side of the steps. There were three other doors. On this floor. I tried each of them, and they opened.
Two of them into one single large room, which looked like a document room. The last door opened into a workroom. Looking at the materials, this is where documents were created.
I had to go this route because there was no way that I could walk in and say, oh, I've lost my documentation. Could I ask for some more? I would have been held until they confirmed my identity. Then it would be back to a gulag for twenty or more years.
I checked around the room and found a basket. It had several completed identity cards, so I knew what my finished one had to look like. It also confirmed what I was given in the camp by the escape committee. I had kept the paper they had given me under my clothes. Finding blank cards. I practiced the signature that was used on the cards in the basket several times before I signed the blank card.
It wasn't a card as such. It was like an American passport with a green cover. My signing looked a little shaky, but it wasn't that far off. A quick look would make one think that it was the correct signature.
The stamps we're not sitting out. I had to open several drawers and found a locked box. I knocked the lock off the box and found out it contained the proper stamps. I stamped my passport. Now the only thing that was missing was a photograph.
Fortunately, I had paid enough attention to Denny's photographic business that I could take a picture and develop it. Equipment to do so was over in a corner and it was like what Denny used.
Not as fancy, but it worked the same way. Since the room was closed, I had no problem having the lights on. There was no window for it to shine outside. Setting the camera up and getting the lights on the reflectors took just a moment.
I took several headshots. As that was what was required on the identity card. Then came the tricky part.
I had to develop the film; they had all the chemicals neatly labeled. It was a shame they were in Russian, and I couldn't read what they were.
I resorted to sniffing the bottles to identify the chemicals in them. I preceded to fill a developing tray with what I thought the correct chemicals and tried my luck.
It took me four different tries, each time having to take new pictures then developing them before I had a set that would work. It also took additional time for the photos to dry.
I took my time if someone's going to stumble in and catch me, I had nowhere to run. At this point, it's more important that I get this job done right.
I had the age and my description along with the photograph. I took the liberty of describing myself as an engineering student. I was to be traveling to Moscow to go to school at the University of Moscow. This would give me a certain prestige if I were questioned.
I then wrote myself and stamped a travel pass. This allowed me to travel to Moscow. All of this took the better part of the night.
As it approached dawn. I took all the photograph chemicals and spilled them around the area. Then moved to the document room. There I threw paper files everywhere. Then using my Firestarter, I lit the documents.
Picking up some burning paper. I took it over and tossed it into the working room with the photo chemicals. They went up in a flash. I had to run. for the window to escape. I retreated to the tree line and watched the building burn.
It was fully engulfed before anyone showed up. There wasn't a chance of the fire being put out. I now had documents to allow me to travel freely in Russia.
What I didn't have was money to facilitate that traveling. I think it was time for me to make a bank withdrawal.
The next morning, I mounted Horse. I rode further West. I traveled for two days before I arrived at the next rail stop. This was another small town, too small for my needs, so I continued.
Four days later I arrived at a town that had a bank. I spent two days scouting out the area. I had to know the operation of the bank. How many guards if they had any? And how I could get away. But also, it would help to know if they had any money.
Fortunately, I had a 100-rouble bill left. So, I was able to go into the bank and get change. There were no guards. The best view that I could have of the clerk's cash drawer made me think that they would have several 1000 roubles on hand.
The bank vault looked like it was from another day and age. It had a combination lock. It was turned by hand, not a time lock. This gave me an idea of how I would escape.
I watched the bank and realized that its closing time was around four o'clock in the afternoon. Locals all seem to know that and quit coming to the bank at three.
The next day, I waited until 3:00 and walked into the bank. I had pulled a bandana over my face like an old west bandit.
Then I pulled out my Nagant six-shooter and said in my best Russian, “This is a holdup.”
The three employees promptly raised their hands in the air.
Waving the gun, I signaled them back into the vault. I had a surprise when I investigated the vault. There were stacks of money. I pointed the pistol at some bags laying on the floor and the money. That was all the hint they needed. They loaded the bags, four of them.
I backed out of the vault with the bags in hand, locking the door behind me. It didn’t dawn on me until much later that they might suffocate.
Not wanting to be greedy or stupid, I left the money in the bank teller trays.
Looking around the bank, I saw an old satchel of the style that was called a Gladstone bag. I dumped its contents, someone's laundry on the floor. And then put the four money bags in it. I had to stuff them in. But did get it closed.
I then calmly walked to the bank door. Turned the sign from open to closed. And left town. I spent the next week on the trail bypassing two other towns. I had to laugh this was getting almost funny, on a stolen horse with a six-shooter I had just robbed a bank. Where could I find a black Stetson?
In the third town, which was larger than the others, I bought new clothes. These were a better fit. And they were civilian rather than the Red Army style. I dumped the army clothes in an empty drum. Looking back, I saw someone s
crounging in the drum for my leavings. That was good.
I stopped at a stable. I had left Horse there. Telling them that I would be back in two days. I patted Horse goodbye, knowing that I would never see him again. But at least I had left him in a safe place.
They would seize him for nonpayment, and he would end up with a new home.
From there I walked to the train station. I bought a first-class westbound ticket. I had to show my new identity papers to purchase the ticket, but they were accepted with no comment.
Chapter 25
I was able to afford first-class because that bank had two million roubles on hand, over fifty thousand US dollars. Why I had no idea, but I was glad I chose that bank for my withdrawal.
I had several hours before the train left for Moscow, so I went shopping. I bribed the clerks as suggested by the escape committee. It worked as I was let into the backrooms of the luggage and clothing stores.
I had to buy luggage so that I would not look conspicuous. They even were able to put my new monogram on it. IP for Ivan Popov. I choose it for its commonness.
And I needed almost all new clothes. I had to buy ready-made and the fits were far from perfect, but they looked good for my supposed station in life.
It also included shaving gear and personal items. I bought only the best as I was traveling as an upper-middle-class student.
After I tried on my new clothes. I left on the last outfit. My Russian army uniforms, I put in a bag. Which I placed in an empty drum, on the way to the train station.
I looked over my shoulder, I had no sooner thrown the uniforms in the drum than someone was digging through the drum and retrieving the clothes. That was good. For the less, I had connected me to my recent trial, the better.
When the train came chugging into town, I was waiting. To board I had a. Redcap, a roughly dressed peasant carry my bags onto the train.
I was directed to the compartment in my car by a conductor. When the door to the compartment opened, I had a moment of disorientation. It was as fine a room as I had been in months. It was decorated, in a very ornate style. Probably from the time of the tsars.
I tipped the man. Probably over-tipped him from the way he thanked me. I settled in for a long ride to Moscow. The train left on time. Well only 1/2 hour late, but that was good for the Siberian Railway.
A conductor came through the car checking my ticket. He tipped his hat. I didn't know if I was supposed to give him a tip, so I erred on the side of caution.
That was a correct action and my choice of five roubles was a good one. Whenever we came to a stop he was always there to see if I needed anything.
I didn't get off the train at any station, even to stretch my legs. I didn't want to take the chance of being recognized.
I realized it was dinnertime when the conductor came walking through the car ringing chimes on a portable xylophone. It was a pleasant sound that reminded me of better times.
Since I was in the last car on the train. I know I had to move forward to the dining car. It was only the next car, so it wasn't hard to find. There were only three tables occupied out of the eight.
Two of them were families. At one of them sat an extremely attractive young lady. About my age, she was very well dressed and upper class. If this were the time of the tsars, I would say that she was nobility.
Today she would probably be the daughter of a Soviet commissar. It didn't matter. We wouldn't be talking.
At least I didn't think we would be talking. But when I entered the car, she looked up and signaled to the conductor and he led me to her table.
This was uncomfortable as my Russian wasn't good enough to fool anyone that I was a native. Thinking quickly when I sat down, I asked her, “Do you mind if we speak English? I need to practice it.”
In almost flawless English, she replied.
“Let's do. I could always use practice myself.”
We introduced ourselves, me as Ivan Popov and her as, Karen Romana from Vladivostok. This took me aback for a moment as I thought of Anna Romanov the actress. This girl could be a younger version of her.
I had another problem. I did not have a back story created. If she asked where I was from. I had no answer. Any personal questions would get me in trouble. How am I going to handle this?
“Karen, I do not know how to tell you this. Part of my education is being funded by the KGB. As such, I have been sworn not to tell anyone about my background. During my schooling, I will be given a new background. They are preparing to send me to America as a deep-cover agent.”
She gave me a disgusted look.
“I've heard this type of story from many boys. They all want to make themselves look better than they are. You are going on a dangerous mission, and it is my job to send you off with good memories. Go away, you bore me.”
I fled her table. And found my way back to my original one, feeling like I had played that well. The waiter came over to me. He asked me if I had struck out. I replied that I had. He laughed and said that is the way it happens.
There was no menu for dinner, they just served it. Fortunately, it was not sausage. It was lamb chops. I'm not a great fan. But it was certainly better than sausage.
After dinner. I sat with a cup of tea from the large samovar in the corner. I've seen several of these before, but this is the biggest one that I had ever seen. It had more valves, bells, and whistles than I could count.
Maybe not bells and whistles. But it had a lot of different controls. It did make a good cup of tea. As I ate my meal, I looked around the dining room.
I was having a dissonant moment, There was fine China, silverware, and decor. It differed so much from what I had seen the last few months that it seemed unreal.
It appeared as if I had come into a different world.
When a tray came about, I turned down the dessert. As I had eaten enough dinner and was afraid that I would get ill because I had not had a regular diet.
I returned to my compartment and turned in for the night. I woke briefly once as we had stopped to take on some coal and water. I turned over and went right back to sleep.
This was the most comfortable night's rest I had in a long time.
The next morning after washing up and putting on fresh clothes, I went for breakfast. The meal was eggs over easy, bacon, and fried tomatoes. If they had hash browns, I would have been in heaven.
In mid-morning, we came to a larger town. It had a longer stop than usual. I think they were changing train crews. Some men in uniform came through the cars. Which I figured out were NKVD.
When they came through my car and looked at my papers, mine didn’t rate a second look. He rifled through them, handed them back, nodded his head, and moved on.
That was a relief. Now I had to think of a back story because I would not be able to get away with what I had told Karen again.
Speaking of Karen, I had not seen her since I left her table. I wonder if she had gotten off the train. I hope so. It would make things easier.
There was a Russian newspaper available at each table. I asked for a cup of tea and worked my way through it laboriously. My Russian was getting better. But there was no way that I would be able to get by as a student.
The paper had nothing but good news, except for two stories about an NKVD building burning to the ground due to faulty wiring, and a bank robbery, straight out of the old west. It seems there was a whole gang of them, at least four and maybe more.
I read the financial numbers; all was not well in the USSR. They were hemorrhaging money like crazy. They wouldn’t be able to keep up their social and military funding for much longer. The country would collapse.
I wondered how I could help this along. I thought about it for a while, but nothing came to me. I would keep working at it as I did want to get some revenge on the people who had done this to me.
If that required, taking the entire system down, I was more than willing to try. I had to laugh at myself. As this was certainly an egotistical thought, Ri
ck Jackson against the Soviet Union. No way.
Maybe I couldn't take the country down. But I could embarrass it. I had a thought; a joking thought some time ago. It involves Lenin's tomb and flaming arrows. I wondered if it was possible. I will have to investigate it in Moscow.
If that didn't embarrass the Soviets, nothing would. If nothing else, it would show the USSR wasn’t invincible. Now, if I could do something real, like hurt their nuclear or space programs. That would damage their credibility.
Since they were cash strapped. They would have a hard time settling down their satellite countries. If those countries could be given a reason to think that the Soviets could be overcome, they might revolt. I had to give this some serious thought.
Chapter 26
My trip to Moscow was going to take the better part of three weeks. I decided to spend the time as wisely as I could. I bought an English to Russian to English Dictionary, to help my learning the language. I also read the newspaper and listened to every conversation I could.
Even doing this for three weeks would not gain me a lot of proficiency in the language, but it was a step in the right direction.
Whenever possible, I engaged other passengers in conversations. My criteria were that they were younger children so that they wouldn't question my lack of fluency, I explained to them I was a foreign exchange student and was trying to learn Russian. Since they were children, they were naive enough to buy this.
At the same time, I was practicing the language, I was trying to catch up on current events and personalities in Russia.
I already knew his name, but I had to be able to recognize a picture of Yuri Kargaran, and other famous Russian cosmonauts.
I also found that it was important to know: who are the best chess players and their ratings? There's no question the soccer team I would be following was the Moscow Dynamo. I had to learn their schedule and their roster. Who were the star players and their statistics?
At first, I had trouble, getting the mindset to do this studying. I finally decided that I had an acting role. And that was of an exchange student in Russia trying to fit in. I had to use my best acting abilities. and adapt to another personality.