‘You’re obviously not worried about pickpockets.’
Domingo replied with a wry smile, ‘I assure you, Mr. Darby, that anyone picking my pocket in this city, would never play the piano again.’
Jim laughed and pocketed the money. He decided he liked Domingo and would enjoy working with him. ‘Call me Jim,’ he told him.
***
Jim was relaxing in his bedroom, smoking a cigarette, when a man knocked and then entered the room. It was one of the two men that Jim had knocked out when he first entered the Blue Parrot. Jim watched him warily in case he had come to extract his revenge.
‘You come, you come now,’ he said to Jim in heavily accented Albion.
Jim followed the man downstairs. He led him to the office where Domingo was waiting for him. ‘Ah Jim, we have news.’ He waved the minion away and invited Jim to sit while he poured them both a shot of Unicum.
‘I’ve had our men out gathering information. The Rooskian Foreign Minister and his entourage are still at the embassy but they are all planning to leave tomorrow morning, at ten o’clock, by the same private train that brought them. We presume that this means Count Seretsky will be amongst them, he is still at the embassy as well.’
‘We’ve got to get on that train,’ said Jim.
‘That will be next to impossible.’
‘But- ’
‘Wait a moment,’ Domingo held up his hand to forestall Jim. ‘I’ve had someone look into their timetable. They need to inform the railway in advance of any movement. It means they have to file a travel request so they can be routed properly to their destination. All the stations down the line need to know you see. So we know where and when they are going, they are headed back to Moskva on the normal route, it’s the most direct one from here to Moskva. Now it just so happens that the next train that will be travelling that route, leaves half an hour after theirs does. So, as it is unlikely we can get on the Rooskian train, we simply follow behind on the next one until they stop somewhere and we get a chance to make our move. Okay?’
‘That’s good work Domingo, and good thinking too. Once they are on the move and heading home perhaps they’ll feel more comfortable and let their guard down a little.’
‘Let’s hope so. Anyway, we need to be ready to move early tomorrow morning after breakfast, so I suggest we eat here in the restaurant tonight and then get an early night.’
‘Agreed.’
‘Oh by the way, you’ll be needing this, put it with your passport.’ He slid a piece of paper across the table to Jim.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s your visa for entry into Rooskia. I had one forged for each of us, it’ll make it easier at the border.’
Jim examined it. ‘Nice work, I can’t read it but the stamps look nice and official.’
‘Well, it helps having a criminal organisation to call upon when you’re in need.’
‘Indeed.’ He tucked it into his pocket. ‘So, you were saying about dinner?’
***
Jim and Domingo stood at one end of the passenger footbridge between platforms at Budapescht station, watching the loading of the Rooskian private train. They had hung back in the shadows so they couldn’t be seen from the platform. The dignitaries had gone aboard, which included Grenko and Seretsky. Jim was relieved at that as if the two of them split up, he wasn’t quite sure which one he should follow, not knowing which of them had the treaty. There was no sign of Rubicon though and Jim wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If she were with them then it meant she was a traitor. If she wasn’t it probably meant she was floating down the Danube and not in a ‘Spring cruise – sip champagne and enjoy the view’ kind of way, which saddened him.
The goods wagon was being loaded with suitcases and boxes when the embassy staff who were loading the train wheeled up a handcart on which there was a long, narrow crate. It looked like the sort of crate you would use to cover a coffin for travel, it was that shape and length. They wheeled it into the goods wagon and came out a moment later with the empty handcart.
‘There were no reports of anyone dying at the embassy during the robbery, were there?’ asked Jim, puzzled.
‘No, none at all. As far as we know no one was injured.’
‘That looked an awful lot like a coffin.’
‘Hmm ... it did, didn’t it? I wonder what they’re up to?’
‘Maybe we’ll have chance to find out when we catch them up.’
They watched the train finish loading then the guard blew his whistle and waved his flag to the train driver and the train pulled out of the station.
‘Come on, time to catch our train, it’s over that way,’ said Domingo pointing across the bridge. ‘Let’s go have an adventure.’
***
Jim and Domingo had a first class compartment to themselves as the train puffed its way through Ungary towards the Ukrainian border. The Ukraine was the country between Ungary and Rooskia but it was part of the Rooskian Empire, so to all intents and purposes, once you had crossed the border you were in Rooskian territory.
They eventually arrived at Tisza, the border crossing. When the customs officers came along the train to check everyone’s documentation, Domingo took Jim’s passport and visa and told him to leave the talking to him.
The officials entered the compartment and requested their travel papers. Domingo handed over their papers and chatted cheerfully to them as they checked them thoroughly. Jim caught the flash of money changing hands as well, so before long they returned the passports and smiling, wished them a good journey (so Jim assumed) and left the compartment.
‘Was that Rooskian you were speaking to them?’ Jim asked him.
‘Yes, we do a lot of ‘trade’ into and out of Rooskia so I find it useful to speak the language.’
‘How many languages do you speak?’
‘Six, counting Ungarian. Four fluently and two that I can get by in.’
Jim nodded, impressed. Domingo was obviously a man of many parts. He was glad he had him along for the ride.
After the train pulled out of Tisza, Jim and Domingo had a long, boring train ride ahead of them. First they covered the two hundred and twenty kilometres to Mukachevo. (Although Jim was from Albion where they worked in miles – good old stubborn Albion, Europe and their metric system can sod off – the maps were scaled in kilometres, so Jim just used them and didn’t bother converting each time.)
While the train was stopped there, they got out. Jim had a wander up and down the platform to stretch his legs, while Domingo spoke to the station guard.
They did the same at the next stop three hundred kilometres later at Ternopil. Domingo confirmed that the private train had been through earlier that day.
No matter how beautiful the countryside, even it can become boring after watching it for too long. Jim and Domingo had read everything they had brought with them and although Domingo could buy fresh newspapers at each stop, they were in Ukrainian so Jim wasn’t able to read them. They played cards for a while and then Jim decided to stretch out on the seats and have a nap.
When they got to the next stop, Zhytomyr, Jim stayed on the train as he was falling asleep, while Domingo went to check. Suddenly he woke up with a start as Domingo knocked urgently on the window.
Groggily, Jim got up and slid the top of the window to the side, so they could speak.
‘What’s up?’
‘Quick, get all our stuff together and get off the train. The Rooskian train hasn’t been through here. Get off now.’
Jim hurriedly put on his coat and hat and slung his backpack on his shoulder, leaving his hands free to carry Domingo’s gear. Satisfied, he made his way to the door and stepped down to the platform as the guard whistled to signal the train leaving.
Domingo came and collected his stuff from Jim. ‘It seems like they’ve cut off the track somewhere between here and Ternopil. Let’s get some food while we have a look at the map.’
They bought some bread and cheese an
d a hot cup of Rooskian tea each at a kiosk at the station, sat down on the platform benches and Domingo dug the maps out of his backpack. He studied them as he ate and then excusing himself he went off to speak to the station guard again.
He came back in a while and sat down again. In between bites of food he explained what had happened, to Jim. ‘According to the guard, they definitely haven’t been through here. We know they didn’t break down otherwise we’d have seen them; it would have probably blocked the track, so they must have turned off somewhere back down the line.
‘The guard says there is a spur leading off the main track about twenty kilometres back from here. It leads towards a place called Shepetivka but the trains don’t run there anymore. Apparently it used to be a mining town but the mine closed down and it’s now deserted. According to the guard the line hasn’t been used for years, so if the track has been opened again it’s for a private purpose, not railway business.’
‘So how do we get there?’ asked Jim.
‘Well, a town this size should have somewhere we can buy horses and get some fresh provisions. You can ride a horse I take it?’
‘Naturally.’
‘We should probably buy some camping gear as well, I wasn’t expecting to camp out so I didn’t pack that much.’
‘Right then,’ said Jim. ‘That sounds like a plan. Finish your food and we’ll get on it.’
***
Jim and Domingo stopped their horses at the junction and got down to stretch their legs. They could see where the rail spur had branched off away from the main track.
They had followed Domingo’s plan and bought some horses and saddle gear. Then they had purchased some extra food and drink. They’d also found a place that sold equipment for an outdoor life, so Domingo had bought such things as water bottles, oil lamps, a coffee-pot to boil water, a hand axe to chop wood and even sleeping bags for each of them. Having horses meant they could carry more so they had liberally stocked the saddle bags for what might be a lengthy trip.
By the time they had done all this however, it was too late to set off as dusk was approaching, so they had found lodgings for the night and set off as soon as the sun was up next day. They had backtracked down the line some twenty kilometres from Zhytomyr, and now found themselves at the point where the line split into two.
Domingo bent down to examine the track.
‘This line has definitely been used recently, quite a bit actually. It’s not an abandoned spur, that’s for sure.’
‘Well, I guess our best bet is to follow it and see where it goes,’ replied Jim. ‘My curiosity is aroused. Why are they heading off into the middle of nowhere instead of going back to Moskva? My gut tells me there’s more to this than meets the eye. Game to see what’s going on?’
‘It’s what I signed up for.’
‘Good man.’
They both mounted their horses and rode away in the direction the railway line was heading.
***
They made good time as for most of the way there was a track running alongside the train line, well more of a bridle path really, but it meant they didn’t have to wind their way through the forest, which was becoming denser as they approached the foothills.
When it became too dark to carry on safely, they camped for the night. They seemed to be so far away from civilisation that they deemed it safe to light the oil lamp, set a fire and boil up some water for coffee.
As they sat by the campfire, eating their meal of bread, cheese and cold meat and drinking coffee fortified with brandy, Jim said to Domingo, ‘You seem at home riding a horse and camping out in the woods. I wouldn’t have expected that from a public school boy.’
‘Although my father made sure I went to the best Albion schools to learn how to be a gentleman, whenever I came home in the holidays he would take me camping. He said it would bring me down to earth again and stop me becoming full of airs and graces.
‘We would hunt and fish for our food, so I know how to gut a fish and skin a deer. It taught me to be self sufficient and to keep a sensible head on my shoulders. And what about you? The way you built that fire I could see it wasn’t your first time roughing it.’
‘I was an officer in the British Army in Bharat for a while. I learnt all about catching my own food and cooking it.’
‘I thought you had batmen to do that sort of thing for you.’
‘Back at the fort yes, but once you’re away from the eyes of the army top brass, you can get your hands dirty, if you want to. I joined the army to learn life skills that I might need in the future and knowing how to fend for yourself was one of them.
‘When you’re out in the wilds building a bridge and there’s just a few of you, it’s easier if everyone mucks in and does their bit. It makes life easier and it helps to earn your men’s respect. You should remember that when dealing with your men. Trust me, it works better than fear.’
‘Erm ... I’m not quite sure that you understand how a criminal organisation works, Jim.’
‘Would any of the men that are afraid of you, take a bullet for you?’
‘I see your point, I’ll remember that, thanks.’
Jim rolled out his sleeping bag and climbed into it. Domingo did the same and they settled down for the night.
When you’re sleeping outdoors you don’t have to worry about an alarm call. In fact it’s very hard to stay asleep once the sun is up. They both rose at first light and after their morning ablutions, had a cold breakfast and a cup of coffee. Then they re-saddled the horses, packed up their kit and continued on their journey.
***
It was mid-afternoon and they were still following the bridle path alongside the railway track. They hadn’t seen another human being or domesticated animal since they’d branched off from the main railway line the day before. It was beginning to feel like they were the only two people left alive in the world.
Jim, to break the monotony, decided to ride up the slope that was off to one side of them, just to see what was at the top, to see if he could get a better look at the area around them.
He slowly walked the horse up the hill and he was just disappearing out of Domingo’s view, when he saw him stop, stare at something over the brow of the hill for a moment and then ride the horse back down the hill a hundred yards or so and then dismount. He beckoned to Domingo to join him but made sure that he saw him clearly put his finger to his lips indicating silence.
When Domingo had joined him on the hill, Jim had tied off his horse and was rummaging in his backpack which he had removed, and produced the binoculars. He waved them at Domingo and placed his finger on his lips again, reinforcing the command for silence.
Domingo tied off his horse and removing his backpack got the binoculars out and followed Jim up the hill. Jim indicated they should lie down just short of the brow and crawl forward on their elbows and knees to look over. What Domingo saw astounded him. After staring for a few moments he remembered the binoculars and put them to his eyes for a more detailed look.
Jim and Domingo were lying on the outer edge of a natural circular ‘bowl’, maybe quarter of a mile wide and several hundred yards deep, from where they were lying, to the base of the hills that encircled the bowl. There was only one break in the edge of the bowl and this is where the railway line cut through and there, in the bowl, was the private train that they had been following. That was a relief; they had caught up with it finally.
On one side of the bowl was a building, several storeys high that looked like some sort of office complex. Next to that there was a single storey building that looked more like an accommodation block. Then in front of those there was a huge open expanse of flat earth, reaching across to some massive structures on the other side of the bowl. There were six of them and they were enormous.
Jim noticed a scale across the bottom of the lenses as he looked through his binoculars so he checked it and saw that it was in tens of metres. This enabled him to look at the structures and estimate their size. The bu
ildings were approximately three hundred metres long (or yards if you prefer), sixty metres wide and the same tall.
‘What are those big buildings?’ asked Domingo, quietly.
‘I’ve no idea. The nearest things I’ve seen to those are railway sheds where they manufacture locomotives but they’re nowhere near that big. You’d have to have some bloody big trains to fit in those sheds.’
They continued watching for a time and then they noticed a group of people leave the train and walk the short distance across to the office block. As they approached, Jim could see Foreign Minister Grenko followed by Count Seretsky. Surrounding them were their minions. Suddenly the group parted and Jim could see another familiar face amongst them.
He cursed under his breath and turned to Domingo. ‘Take a good look at the female in that group. She was my contact in Budapescht, I knew her as Rubicon. The fact that she’s here proves that she was the double agent who sold us out and returned the treaty to them. Damn it! I just had a feeling about her that she was all right. I guess my instincts let me down this time.’
Domingo viewed her through the binoculars. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ he replied. ‘You’re not the first man to be fooled by a pretty face. I speak from experience.’
Grenko and Seretsky and a few others came to a stop in front of the office complex while Rubicon carried on walking into the block, flanked by two men.
Seretsky and the crowd stood there chatting for a while, some of them lit up smokes.
‘What are they waiting for?’ asked Domingo.
‘I don’t know maybe it’s ... wait I see something. Look, there on the horizon.’
Domingo pointed his binoculars in the direction Jim was indicating. At first he couldn’t see anything then, wait, there it was. ‘Is that a balloon?’ he asked.
‘I think it is but ... hang on, that’s longer than a balloon. Look, as it turns you can see it stretches away at some length.’
The Londum Omnibus Volume Two (The Londum Series Book 12) Page 24