The Richard Jackson Saga: Book 12 Escape From Siberia

by Earl Nelson

  Instead of for the box office, this would be for survival, it made the game much more interesting. Not that it was a game.

  I also had a Russian history book. It covered last several hundred years back to Catherine the Great. She couldn’t have had the sexual appetites they portrayed, could she?

  I found the sections on the revolution. They were quite revealing. They lied about almost everything.

  I also had read enough books to know that what I had learned in my Western textbooks may not all be true. But when you compare the accounts, it was obvious which ones were more accurate.

  The textbooks glorified the leaders of the revolution. They did not talk about all the bodies they left around them or the betrayals that they made on the rise to power.

  What I found amazing was they skipped over all the millions that Stalin had killed. Even today, they continued their five-year plans. Which was resulting in crop failures and starvation.

  At least the West could ship grain to make up some of the shortfalls.

  One thing that I picked up from observing the people around me daily, most Russians were religious.

  Their communist masters were antireligious and did everything they could to suppress religion. The normal citizen religiously lived their life.

  They didn't have a lot of symbols and emblems. But watching, you could see signs of respect for the Eastern Orthodox Church.

  Each time the train crew changed I made certain to tip the outgoing and incoming conductor. I had bought several engineering textbooks and let them know I was studying for entrance exams. I would keep these books open at the table during mealtime.

  The conductors would make sure that the student wouldn’t be interrupted. At the same time. I was able to listen to conversations around me. I think I learned more about Russia from eavesdropping than anything that I had read.

  The engineering books themselves were interesting. I had enough engineering education that I was able to tell what the books were about. A formula is a formula no matter the language surrounding it. When I recognized the formula, I could figure out what was being said.

  This helped me in learning the language. If I kept it up at the rate I was going, I would be able to talk intelligently to a five-year-old.

  If I kept it up, I would be at the same level of comprehension as Chinese Mandarin. I had a concern about my Mandarin. I had not practiced it in four months. I was afraid that I would lose it.

  I think the gods of luck were looking after me. Because soon after I had thought this, a Chinese gentleman sat down at the next table.

  I greeted him in Mandarin then helped him order his dinner as he was having more trouble with his Russian than I was.

  I was afraid at first that he might recognize me. But he didn't. Or wasn't expecting to find me in this situation, so didn't make the connection.

  He and I chattered for several days. It was refreshing to know that I had remembered a lot of the Mandarin that I had learned. Speaking to him brought back many words. It was a shame they didn't have a Chinese newspaper available. I could have caught up on my reading the language instead of just speaking it.

  Relations between China and Russia were still strained. This gentleman was a salesman for rare earth. It seemed China had some of the largest, rare earth reserves in the world. They just had to find a market for them.

  I asked the gentleman how the new Empress Ping was being viewed. He told me the people loved her. They knew that she had them at the center of her heart. All her actions were taking care of the Chinese people.

  She had shoved aside, imprisoned, or killed all their old communist masters. She was firmly in control of the country. Corruption had been reduced significantly. And the people's standard of living was rising.

  Most importantly, there was less starvation. That was because of the deals that she was able to enter with the support of the rich American Richard Jackson, who was the Duke of Hong Kong.

  When he told me this, I thought the game was up. That I would be recognized. I wasn't. I changed the line of conversation as I didn't want to take any more chances of being recognized.

  Not that I wouldn't welcome a chance to get word outside of Russia of my situation, but I just did not know how shocked his reaction would be and what he would do.

  I was asked for identity papers at every stop once we crossed the Ural Mountains into Russia proper. My papers looking more worn all the time from being handled, they had lost the new look, which was a good thing.

  I only had one scare. An NKVD officer held my identity card in his hands and kept tapping it against the other. I didn't understand what he was trying to tell me.

  He finally gave up on the stupid student and rubbed his two fingers together. Then it dawned on me he wanted a bribe.

  This was so blatant that I didn't mess around. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a 100 rouble note and handed it to him. He looked at it with distaste as though he expected more but took it and walked on.

  There are a couple of fun things that happened on the trip that relieved the boredom. At one stage of my journey, two sisters were interested in me.

  Without talking to each other very much, we flirted back and forth through eye contact, and finger motions. Their parents were watching them like hawks so they didn't dare approach me and I didn't think it would be wise to try to approach them.

  It was still fun winking and blinking at them. At one point one of them even made a kissy face at me. Her sister looks scandalized and then started laughing. That caught their parent's attention and got them a scolding. That was the last of our flirting.

  Still, it was human contact and different. I needed that I had been alone for so long.

  At another stage, two young men got on board. They sat at my table. They were also students. I thought I was in for a rough time trying to keep my identity secret and pretending to be a student.

  It turned out to be ridiculously easy. They were more interested in bragging to me about the stunts they had pulled and the girls they had conquered. Either they were both Casanovas reincarnated. Or exaggerating. I think they were exaggerating.

  All I had to do was listen. And make an exclamation occasionally like I believed everything they were telling me, and thought they were the greatest thing since sliced bread.

  After those interludes, the trip was long and boring. I did get a lot of studying done. I was feeling more comfortable in Russian all the time but was under no illusions that I was where I needed to be. All I could do was keep studying. And hope to keep from having conversations.

  Chapter 27

  Arriving in Moscow was an event. I had been to Grand Central Station in New York so I knew what a busy station would be like. Compared to Moscow New York was a backward farmers market.

  There were people everywhere in every type of dress you could imagine. The various republics of the Soviet Union were diverse, to say the least. This could be a strength but also a major weakness. Other than military might what was holding this all together.

  In New York one heard a dozen languages, here it was more like fifty. That was an uneducated guess because they were all so strange.

  I collected my belongings. Here a real uniformed attendant was glad to help me, that was after I waved a hundred rouble note at him.

  He put everything on a hand truck and led me to a waiting cab rank. He managed to get my bags in the cab. The hardest one was my bow which was wrapped in canvas. He and the cab driver opened both rear windows on the car and stowed it that way.

  I held onto it the entire trip. That bow had seen me through some interesting times, and I had plans for it.

  I had been given the address to a youth hostel by the escape committee. They warned me that I couldn’t trust anyone there because the KGB planted people there all the time to catch dissenters.

  However, it was clean, and the price was right. For me, it was more than right since I had made my bank withdrawal. I could live here for several years on what I had taken.<
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  After tipping a very talkative cab driver. His biggest concern in life was how Dynamo Kylv was winning the football championship. This threatened the very foundations of civilization!

  All I had to do was say, “Da,” occasionally. I handed him a normal tip and thanked him for his insights on the state of the world. He took my sarcasm as a true thanks, so I let it go.

  Thankfully, the youth hostel, named appropriately, The Moscow Youth Hostel, had a room. It was small but it was clean. That is what I had been promised. I paid the small charge for a week in advance.

  I had to show my identity card and travel permissions, but they were accepted without comment.

  I stowed my gear and locked the door. The door was so flimsy it could easily be kicked in, but I left it on faith. I kept the six-shooter shoved into the waistline of my pants at my back. I had to get a better arrangement.

  I don’t even want to think what would happen if I got caught with it. At the same time, I couldn’t leave it in my room as there was a one hundred percent chance the room would be gone through. Maybe by more than one group.

  I thought the bow and arrows would get by. I mean who could do major harm with them currently?

  The escape committee had instructed me to go to a coffee house to contact people who would help me. The committee hadn’t been wrong yet, but this was the acid test.

  At the given address was a shop named with a sign, “Coffee Shop, “this must be the place. I could tell a lot of thought had gone into the names used in this area.

  Inside I followed instructions. I found an unoccupied table. This wasn’t hard as I counted ten tables and only four were occupied. Their occupants looked like they were pulling all-nighters, or in this case, all-dayers studying for final exams.

  When the waitress took my order, I asked if they had a newspaper. Komsomolskaya Pravda a tabloid aimed at Russian youth and students. It wasn’t the same as the better-known newspaper which was simply known as simply Pravda. Of course, they did as it was the largest student-oriented newspaper in the country. If I had asked for any other, I would have been looked at as a possible agent provocateur.

  As per my instructions when it was handed to me, I folded it in half and set it aside. I left it there while I drank four cups of coffee. Whoever came up with these recognition signals had an iron bladder.

  After finishing my last cup, I folded the newspaper in the opposite direction and left the building. I had to do this for three days in a row at approximately the same time. I assumed this gave them, whoever they might be, time to follow me and arrange for a search of my room.

  I was glad my underwear was all clean.

  On the third day, the waitress dropped a note on my table as she served my fourth cup of coffee. As usual, I left a generous tip with my bill, read the note, and left.

  Following instructions, I walked across the street, obeying the traffic light, I don’t think getting stopped for jaywalking or walking against a light was in my best interest right now.

  As I crossed the street a guy came abreast of me, tersely instructing me to follow him. After walking a mile of twists and turns he led me to an apartment building.

  We walked up to the sixth floor, the elevator was out, like most elevators in Russian apartments. As I walked through the doorway of an apartment I was seized from behind and searched. Of course, they found the pistol.

  I thought that I was in trouble, instead, I heard a voice behind me say, “It is the correct serial number, he is okay.”

  I was let go and the guy who had said I was okay answered my unasked question.

  “We were sent a message from the gulag. If you showed up there was a good chance you would have a pistol with this serial number.”

  I should have kept my mouth shut.

  “How do you know I’m not KGB and we captured the pistol.”

  “Right, Duke of Hong Kong, how many six-foot-five members of the KGB are there? Besides, we have your picture. The pistol serial number was just another bit of confirmation. Congratulations on your making it this far.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We are working on your escape route. We should have you on your way within the week.”

  “I’m not ready to leave yet, I have some unpaid debts to settle.”

  “We don’t have much money; how much do you need?”

  “None, these aren’t that sort of debts. I don’t think you want to know what I have in mind. Also, I don’t want to know who you are or anything about your group. All I need is some assistance in getting into the University of Moscow as an engineering student.”

  “It can be done but it will take several thousand roubles.”

  “When do you need them?”

  “As soon as you can. Also, a copy of your identity papers and travel permissions.”

  I had planned for this possibility and had five thousand roubles separate from my main stash in the satchel I was carrying.

  By having only five thousand I had enough for their needs but not enough to tempt them overmuch.

  I had to sit and wait for them to take my papers somewhere and copy them. We sat silently waiting while the errand was being run. By unspoken mutual consent, we weren’t gaining knowledge of each other.

  When the guy came back, he was the opposite, he wanted to talk.

  “Where did you get these papers? They looked like they were made in an NKVD office. Please tell me how you got these so we can do the same.”

  “They were made in an NKVD office, I made them use their paper, stamps, and photographic equipment. Did you read about an office burning down about a month ago?”

  “That was you?”

  “Yes, or Da as you say.”

  “Well, that won’t work for us very often, but it is something to keep in mind.”

  “Why don’t you have someone get a job as a clerk?”

  From the uneasy looks that were exchanged, I had stepped my foot in it. I changed the subject.

  “How long until I have admission papers to the University.”

  “You will have to wait in the lines with everyone else, Ivan Popov's name will be on all the proper lists in two days.”

  I didn’t question this but thought they had to have someone in the admissions office. After retrieving my papers and pistol I returned to the youth hostel.

  I would spend the two days waiting to enroll in school learning how Moscow is laid out, particularly around the Kremlin and some other government buildings. Other than that, I hung out at the coffee shop. I did draw the line at drinking four cups of coffee, I stopped at two.

  Neither my bladder nor my nerves would take anymore. I did take the time to read the newspaper thoroughly each day to keep up with local happenings. It wouldn’t be good to have an escape route blocked by a parade route!

  Chapter 28

  Monday morning, I was in line early. At least I thought it was early. I was a block away from the entrance to the building. The Russians know all about lines and waiting so they were prepared for it. I think some of them camped overnight.

  I saw several guys sell their place in line. It seemed normal to everyone, just a cost of doing business.

  It took me two hours to get inside the building and another to get to the front of the line. It was set up like every school I had seen. My line divided down to K through P. I almost got in the J line, which would have been embarrassing and possibly dangerous, but what saved me from that mistake was the alphabet was different. There is no J in Russian.

  The students or prospective students in line seemed a happy bunch, just like any other group of students in the world. Flirtation was going on everywhere. I tried to mind my own business.

  When I got to the head of my line I was asked and gave my name as Ivan Popov. The guy went down the list, checked my name off, and handed me a packet of papers.

  “This has your class schedule, book lists, and room assignment. There is also a bill for your fees for food, room, and classes. These have to be paid before yo
u will be admitted to any classes.”

  I thought about not paying the fees as I had no intention of attending any of the classes but then thought better of it. Someone might realize I was staying in a room that I hadn’t paid for. This kind of thing had to have happened before.

  I also snarked a bit to myself about how this socialist society was operating its primary school on a capitalistic basis.

  Mind made up I went to stand in another line at the bursar's office. It was only a two-hour wait until I was able to pay my fees. The total for the year was equal to two hundred and fifty dollars a year for room, board, and classes. Maybe they weren’t so capitalistic after all.

  I wondered if my paying in cash a problem would be. It turned out that not paying in cash would have been a problem. Receipt in hand I went on the hunt for my dorm room.

  The packet handed to me had a campus map and which had my dorm on it. It was an easy walk to my room.

  On the way, I passed a bookstore, so I went in or at least tried to go in. Students were lining the entrance selling books. They were hawking their old textbooks so they could afford to buy the ones for their next set of classes.

  Always wanting to help my fellow man and leaving as little footprint as possible I attempted to buy my books. It turns out that my fellow students were a rapacious bunch. They wanted new book prices for some tattered stuff.

  I didn’t know what the pricing should be, but all I had to do was listen to the cries of outrage by my fellow purchasers. Some were reaching a deal whereas most were going on into the store.

  I was carrying a light load, only four classes this semester so only needed four books. I had to buy a cloth bag to carry them in as the store provided nothing. While I was at it, I picked up a couple of University of Moscow sweatshirts and a grey sweater. They were cool and if I could get them home neat souvenirs.