Opening Moves (The Red Gambit Series) (29 page)

“Anyway Major, now I must have piss of nature too. Goodbye and thank you. Major Ramsey.” Salutes exchanged and Yarishlov was gone.

Ramsey struggled to find a way to approach the matter without going at it head-on. So he did. “Did you tell the Russian about the symposiums Major?”

“Hell no, just told him we get a whole load of boring lectures that’s all.”

“And Biarritz? You mentioned Biarritz.”

“That’s where I’m going on furlough next week Major. Just told the Colonel that he might want to go there someday.”

Ramsey could not help think the very obvious thought that the Russians might well want to go there one day, in something painted green, but resisted further enquiries. He would have to mention this in his report anyway, so he would leave it for now. What Ramsey did know was that both words appeared on his top secret joining orders for 6th August, for a week’s special training. Secret was a word he understood and clearly the yank did not.

None the less, he took further stock of the young Texan in front of him and his eyes were drawn to an ornate emblem on his chest.

“May I enquire what that is for Major? It is very grand and must be important indeed.”

The American swelled and puffed out his chest.

“I got that for being second in my class at the Texas Military Institute Major. That reminds me. The Colonel said you have the Victoria Cross. What did you get that for?

“For being first in my class in the School of the Reichswald, Major. There were no prizes for being second. Good day to you.”

And with a salute that Ramsey had never meant less in his entire career, he strode off towards the Brigadier and his staff.

1602 hrs Monday, 23rd July 1945, Former SS Panzer Training grounds, Paderborn, British Occupied Germany.

Yarishlov joined up with the Soviet entourage returning to Schlangen for a dinner with the American Staff. He was beckoned forward by the general.

“Ride with me Arkady Arkadyevich and tell me your thoughts.”

“Yes, Comrade General,” directing his own staff car to follow without him.

As the Mercedes-Benz, which had been appropriated some weeks before hand, started off on the short journey, Yarishlov spoke further.

“I believe that the unit we saw today is extremely inexperienced, unless the Americans are deliberately misleading us. I am not sure they are that clever.”

“You are right Colonel, they saw little action. We have no intelligence on a 15th Tank Division in any case but we know they have been in Europe for only a few months. However, it is not important. What is important to me is what you think of them?” The strange emphasis on the word “them” caused Arkady a moment’s puzzlement.

He replied with the truth as he saw it.

“They have neither the skills nor the equipment to function properly in the field. Their experienced units simply have to be better than these we have seen today or the green toads would have devoured them in an instant. The new Pershing tank looks nice but it floundered in modest mud as you saw.”

“Indeed. Whichever officer directed that second assault would be counting trees in Siberia now if he were one of mine.”

“One of yours would not have done such a thing Comrade General,” stated Arkady with total conviction.

“But what of them Arkady? What of them?”

“I spent some time with a British Major. He is a professional for certain Comrade General, as were the others British I saw.” He paused just long enough to consider the next statement. “The Americans I spoke to were fools. I saw not one man there who I would trust on my right-hand in combat Comrade General.”

Arkady felt as if his words were a catalyst to something, but he didn’t know what.

The General smiled and merely said, softly and with certainty, “Fools indeed Arkady.”

The American units had been running field exercises at Paderborn the whole week before the Soviet visit in an effort to get combat effective. They were actually a conglomerate of newly arrived formations as yet unassigned to any division but it had been decided to place them under the fictitious umbrella of the 15th US Armored Division purely for the purpose of masking their true identity. Had they been veteran US tankers perhaps the reports that went back to Moscow might have said something very different.

A moment of luck, good or bad, often plays a greater part in our destiny than hours of design.

Ernst-August Knocke

1430 hrs Wednesday, 25th July 1945, Soviet Military Intelligence Headquarters, Schloss Gundorf, Leipzig, Soviet Occupied Germany.

The reports written by Yarishlov and Ramsey held much the same information. Firstly that the American tank exercise had been an utter shambles. Both explained the reasons why, although Yarishlov’s expertise in tank combat made his submission more detailed in that regard. Secondly, that the American officers either did not realise it had all gone badly wrong, or were delusional, or lying, or a combination of those. Thirdly, an American officer had made direct mention of the word symposium. Ramsey’s report also included the word “Biarritz” and the US officer’s identity.

He submitted it to his Colonel’s office, from whence it was sent to Brigade headquarters. The Staff Sergeant responsible for compiling the daily bulletin for the Brigadier’s ADC started to read it but was disturbed by a package delivery to the office. He put the message down and returned only to find that a large area was smouldering where he had placed the paper over his cigarette. In a panic, he dowsed it with tea, screwed up the document and stuffed it in his pocket, disposing of it down the latrine as soon as possible.

In Yarishlov’s report, this ‘symposium” in a French castle was identified as something which he felt was important, and he also mentioned that he felt the British Major who overheard part of the conversation looked concerned by it. The whole conversation with the US officer was recorded reasonably well in fact. Even though Arkady wondered if he was making an elephant from a fly, his professional senses had lit off at the time and he had to trust them.

That report ended up on in the office of overworked GRU Colonel General Pekunin, whose staff was presently tasked with interpreting intelligence gained on the Western Allies and compiling detailed reports for the GKO. The inclusion of certain key words meant that some reports ended up on his desk. In this case, the word ‘symposium’ was familiar to him and he immediately summoned another GRU officer to his office.

“Ah Nazarbayeva, this may be of interest to you. Full analysis on my desk in four hours.” Apart from looking up briefly to check it was the Kapitan he had called who came in, the General never lifted his eyes from the file before him. Tatiana took the proffered report and left the room, not before she had caught the words “Kingdom39” on the file that the General was finding so captivating.

Nazarbayeva was forty-six years old and strikingly beautiful for a Russian woman. Rich black hair and piercing brown eyes brought her many admiring glances from senior officers but, despite numerous advances, she remained loyal to her husband Yuri, a combat infantryman with a Guards Corps.

She had once been a fighting soldier with a mortar unit in the Crimea through the difficult retreats, right up to the crushing defeat on the Kerch Peninsula in May 1942. During heavy fighting, she had even picked up a Mosin rifle on occasions to clear direct pressure on her unit, being credited with seventeen kills in an hour outside Osovyny, when the panzer-grenadiers of the 22nd Panzer Division had pressed her unit hard.

As her company’s position was about to be overwhelmed she counter-attacked single-handedly with grenades and a pistol, driving off the Germans with heavy casualties. One souvenir of that bloody time was kept well hidden and few ever noticed the slight limp, caused by the absence of half of her left foot, the only serious injury she sustained during her time in action. She was the last wounded soldier loaded on the last boat to escape the debacle that saw the rest of her unit disappear into German captivity. It had taken her some months and use of a special metal ankle strap to learn to walk with anything approaching a normal gait.

Despite the constant presence of her limp, the other souvenir of those desperate times attracted much more attention.

She was the second woman to receive the Hero of the Soviet Union Gold Star, and she wore it with pride.

None the less, many wondered if she had secured her present position by use of her obvious charms, but that was not how she had advanced to become a respected Captain in the GRU. Her rank and status were achieved through her abilities and excellence at her job. It was no surprise to Pekunin that, three hours and forty-seven minutes later, she placed a comprehensive and detailed report in front of him, which now surmised that there were four symposium operated by the Western Allies, not three as Russian Military Intelligence first thought.

Their purpose was already known through other means, but this was the first sniff of a possible French-run facility so far. Given the placement of the other three known symposium it seemed likely that the French would place theirs in Alsace, Franche-Comte, or Rhone-Alpes. If the French symposium followed the same rules on the national identity of attendees as the others did, then the most likely location for the travel convenience of US and UK officers would be Alsace. A list of castles and other similar structures in Alsace was attached, complete with suitability profiles where information had been available.

There was also more confirmation of the Western Allies ‘apparent belief that an attack would take place.’ Also of note was that there was no record of a 15th US Armored Division on the order of battle for the Western Allies, so either it was another unit masquerading as part of some sort of American ‘maskirova’ or it was a new formation. Given the appreciation within the report, it was felt most likely to be a new formation, and a poor one at that.

To round off the report a list of possible German officer candidates of Colonel rank or above known to be in French captivity was attached. Admittedly, the list ran to over two hundred names but Tatiana had asterisked seven who she considered the most likely candidates. Six of them were SS and number two on the list was a name of some considerable repute. Also attached was a copy of the French Military Intelligence request for information on a list of German officers. Some names appeared in both lists and Tatiana had cross-referenced them. There was also reference links to three other GRU files relating to numbers two, five, and six. Those were not to hand but the report indicated that copies had been urgently requested from the GRU department covering the former East Prussia. It was an excellent report and wholly accurate.

Pekunin placed it in his briefcase with the intention of reading it again on his flight to Moscow. If it was all that he thought it was, then it was about time Tatiana received her next step on the promotion ladder. In the meantime, instructions were issued to act upon its contents.

How many things apparently impossible have nevertheless been performed by resolute men who had no alternative but death.

Napoleon Bonaparte

1210 hrs Friday, 27th July 1945, The Kremlin, Moscow, USSR.

There were always minor details to confront and review, even for the powerful and great.

As the date approached when Kingdom39 could go live, more problems presented themselves.

Rigidly, the GKO stuck to their requirement of the 3rd August,and faced down every request for delay from Zhukov and Vasilevsky.

The previous day GRU reports had been forwarded from all over the former Germany and landed on Pekunin’s desk in Gundorf. Nazarbayeva and her staff had collated the facts, and Pekunin was able to send specific instructions for his agents in Western Europe before he left his office to fly to Moscow.