The Margin of Evil! (21 page)

Anyway, there was no time to hang around; they had to get back to Moscow post haste.
It was important that no one missed them while they were gone. So the body, wrapped up in a blanket, was bundled into the boot. Then the three of them jumped into the car and set off on the long journey back to Moscow.

It was on the journey back to Moscow that Sergo Ordzhonikidze began to notice a change in
'The Boss'. At first he put it down to the punishing schedule and the long hours they had all been working. Without making it too obvious, he stole glances at Stalin here and there and noticed that 'The Boss' was muttering, albeit inaudibly, to himself. He was also leafing through the file they had taken from Sverdlov's flat.

Turning around Stalin said,
'Sergo, instruct the driver, we`re going back to Oryol.  'So the car turned around and they headed back in the direction they had just come from.

Once they arrived in the city of Oryol Stalin instructed them to stay in the car while he went inside the building.
'The Boss' was not gone long. Once again the car turned around and made off in the direction of Moscow.

Sergo knew from experience not to bother
'The Boss' with futile questions. If Stalin was going to tell him he would do it in his own time.

'
Sergo, I think we have miscalculated,' then he fixed him with a long stare and said, 'There is a third party, I think, that's involved in all of this. Possibly even a fourth ...'

Sergo Ordzhonikidze said nothing; he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

But the stroke of genius for Sergo Ordzhonikidze was that Sverdlov's death was going to be overseen in Moscow. To all sense and purposes the outside world would believe that 'The Good Comrade' had died of Spanish flu in Oryol. The announcement would be made by the local 'Soviet' in Oryol; as 'The Boss'said, no one was likely to question the contents of a coffin. The car continued on its long journey, whilst the occupants grimly sat in silence.

Schroder and Gottschalk left Berlin on the train to Warsaw.
Their brief was to travel incognito. From Warsaw they were to travel to Brest Litovsk, there a courier would join them and take them on to Moscow.

Once they arrived in Warsaw, the authorities detained them.
As they were to find out Germans were not held in high regard. Eventually they were released, and told that they could carry on, on their eastward journey. By the time the two of them got to Brest Litovsk, they were all set to turn around and head back to Germany. But the courier that joined the train to accompany them on the rest of their journey, obviously a 'Bolshevik' official, persuaded them to keep on going. Against their better judgment they agreed to carry on.

'
If at the outset I had envisaged what this journey was going to be like. I would never have gone,' Schroder said.

'
I agree,' Gottschalk replied.

'
Objectionable Polish officials, ignorant Ukrainians and arrogant Russians!'  The eminent surgeon said to his colleague.

'
I agree!' The other replied, then added,' I get the feeling that they don't like Germans.  'The two of them laughed, other passengers who understood their language hid their embarrassment.

'
As soon as we`re done I'm off,' the first said.

'
You mean ... we`re both off,' the second surgeon reminded him.

'
Yah, we`re both out of here!'  Schroder said. He lit a cigarette, thought about the previous seventy-two hours and then wondered what the rest of their journey would be like.

Schroder looked down the long carriage, halfway down there were a group of American women.
He wondered why on earth they would be travelling through this 'Living Hell'. The train travelled onwards into the night.

Next morning the passengers were told that the train would be returning to Brest Litovsk.
Apparently there was trouble ahead; the line to Minsk was closed. Their 'Bolshevik' guide told the two Germans that, for their safety, it would be best to stay put on the train. The two medical men, who would have preferred to book into a hotel, grudgingly agreed. Day dragged and then turned into night.

Collaring the courier Gottschalk said,
'Look! You can't keep us on this train indefinitely!'

'
That's right; you can't keep us here all the time. You've let the Americans off! Why not us?!' Schroder said.

'
But as I've told you before there is Civil War in these parts; it is not safe ... You are honoured guests of the Russian Socialist Federative Socialist Republic. But remember 'Comrades' we are travelling incognito. They are charity workers and tourists ... but wait; I will see what I can do for you.'

Dismayed, the two surgeons looked at each other, without saying it they shared the same thought.
Who on earth would want to come travelling here.

The man returned,
'The authorities say that you are permitted to stay within the confines of the railway station. But do not go any further. I must remind you that up until a few months ago your army's forces of occupation were still here committing every kind of atrocity. Germans are not popular around here. So venture out at your peril. And if you do! Don't talk to any strangers!'

Schroder and Gottschalk alighted onto the station pla
tform. They walked from one end and back to the other. They could see that Brest Litovsk had been ravaged by war. The evidence was right in front of them. Starving children dressed in rags, no shoes, roamed around begging for food. From the station platform, the town pretty much looked intact. The whole scene was depressing; they got back on to the train and waited. As it happened they did not have to wait long before the train started back on its journey. The guard informed them that the delay had been caused by clashes between 'Reds' and 'White' forces. But the good news was that even though this was predominantly a 'White' area, from time to time, there were clashes between regular and irregular units from both sides.

Schroder lent forward and quietly addressed the courier,
'And how are we going to cross their lines?'

'
Don't you worry about that!  Skirmishes only take place around here. There are no fixed battle lines. It is too big; there is nothing around here but forest and swamp.'

'
Surely it is in the interests of both sides to cut each other's lines of communication?'

'
Well it is ... and it isn't! Shall we say, it's like in the days of the 'Great Imperialist War'. Shall we also say, that their friends brothers and cousins, from the same families, who have, and, for whatever reason chosen to fight on 'The Red' and 'White' side; ah, ah, they have negotiated, 'Unofficial Truces', to keep certain roads and railways open! It benefits all!'

'
Funny Civil War', Schroder said looking over at Gottschalk who simply sat there and nodded.

The train carried on, on its long journey.
Through dense pine forest it travelled, occasionally they would break into the open. Small towns, villages and hamlets would, momentarily, reveal themselves to the passers-by and then the train would disappear back into the forest.

Near Minsk the train started to slow down, it began to crawl along at a very slow pace.
The two doctors, looking out of the window, realised that what the courier had said about 'Unofficial Truces' was true. Lined up by the trees was a battalion of 'White' soldiers. Two hundred yards further down the railway line, was a detachment of 'Red Army' guards. Both groups faced each other in silence; the only noise was that of the passing train.

By the time they had arrived in Minsk, the two men were allowed to disembark the train for a few hours.
Schroder and Gottschalk decided that they would find the nearest hotel, so that they could use its facilities to wash and change. Compared to Brest Litovsk, Minsk was a ghost town. Apart from detachments of the 'Red Army', there seemed to be no one there. Streets were full of potholes, refuse lay everywhere and graffiti covered the walls of churches; most of the buildings appeared to be in an advanced state of disrepair.

The doctors could see that the city was literally dying on its feet.
Gottschalk shook Schroder by the hand and said, 'Welcome to Bolshevik Russia!'

Finding a building that looked like a hotel p
roved to be much more difficult.  The two doctors entered a building that looked like, in happier times, it might have once been a good place for the weary traveller to rest. They walked into what once had been a foyer.  Where there had previously been luxurious carpets, furniture and wallpaper. The scene that unfolded before their eyes was one of utter depravation. Most of the fixtures and fittings had been removed, all that was left was bare walls and floorboards; dog and rat faeces were all over the place and nothing of much worth was left inside, except the empty shell of a once magnificent building. If this place had once been a classy establishment, it now had all of the charm of a public urinal.

In the centre of the hallway, sitting behind a makeshift wooden desk, was the concierge.
'Welcome to Minsk', he said.

'
Yaah, Welcome to Minsk, you definitely need a sense of humour to come and stay here,' Schroder replied. Schroder and Gottschalk turned around solemnly, and walked back to the railway station.

Two surprises awaited them.
The first was not a real surprise. The courier that had accompanied them from Brest Litovsk had shed his suit in favour of traditional 'Red Army' attire. The second was totally unexpected. The train was grimly going to resume its eastward journey. Onward through, the Silver Birch forests, it passed, through the city of Smolensk, and was well on the way to Vyasma when suddenly the carriage screeched to a halt. What next the doctors both thought!

Sergo Ordzhonikidze had not been idle.
Whilst the two German doctors travelled on towards Moscow; he had eventually tracked-down, the two layabouts, Mazhulin and Krupin.

The pair were living in what could only be described
at that time as a, 'Bourgeois Funk Hole', and Sergo was well aware of this; Moscow was full of them. It has to be remembered that even though in the beginning the Bolshevik's mainly targeted 'High Profile' senior nobility.  The middle and lower ranks, if they kept their noses clean, were pretty much left alone; some easily made the transition into 'The Party' rank and file, others carried on as if nothing had happened. Sympathetic party members and friends looked out for them, like Mazhulin and Krupin. In most cases, palms were greased, such as were the nature of the times. This went on with full party approval. Sergo knew, as were the times, that the 'Party Nomenclature' wore 'Janus Face's' inwardly, they were more than happy to accept bribes, whilst on the other they preached 'Class War' and 'Permanent Revolution'.

The rationale was twofold at the time, such persons, non citizens, might be useful to the revolution at some point in the future; and many a loyal
'Bolshevik' had something in their past to hide.

Sergo found the pair living in one of these squalid
'Funk Holes'. Such was the nature of the place; the two were sharing a room with five others in the most squalid of conditions. The 'Others' were removed and then he got down to business.

The two incompetents loved the idea of impersonating two German surgeons; they were over the moon at finally conducting an operation.
But Sergo declined to tell them who they were operating on.

As Krupin said,
'Removing a bullet!  No problem! In the neck! Even better! Ha, ha, ha! We'll stand him on his feet! Ha, ha won't have to bend!'

Sergo kicked the other who was lying on the floor drunk.
Mazhulin awoke from his stupor. He said, 'Every day I like, 'Bolshevik' Russia, a little bit more!'  He raised his glass and toasted Russia.  'Here's to living the 'Red' dream,' and then threw his glass against the wall.

Looking at the two of them Sergo Ordzhonikidze thought that sometimes
'The Boss' expected a lot from his co-conspirators. On his way back to meet his illustrious leader he rubbed his hands with glee, everything was going to plan.

He was ushered into Joseph Stalin
's Kremlin office. Sergo Ordzhonikidze gave 'The Boss' a full report. Stalin lent back in his chair, intermittently taking puffs from his pipe, and listened.

'
This is what we do next ...' and 'The Boss' went on to explain what him to do. When he was finished, he locked the door and then he got out his 'Holy' paraphernalia. Then the two of them prayed in silence.

When they had finished, Sergo Ordzhonikidze got up and left.
He knew exactly what had to be done; so he set off to set those wheels in motion.

Chapter
Thirteen

Anastas Mikoyan waited by the railway line for the train to arrive.
He looked around him, the 'Red Guards' discretely waited at the forests edge. Everything was ready to go; all he needed was the train.

In the distance he faintly heard a whistle.
He looked around just to make sure, yes, everything was set. The 'Red Guard' was standing on the track waving a lantern and the others were in position.  The train was moving at speed. The guard stood unflinchingly in the middle of the line and waved his lantern.  If not for his own skin and the guards, Mikoyan thought the train had better stop!

He could see that the driver was looking out of his cab, the train slowly screeched to a halt.

'What the fuck do you mean by stopping my express train? I'm already a day and a half late as it is,' the driver said.

Anasta
s Mikoyan walked towards him waving a piece of paper in his hand.

'
Look at this,' he said.

The driver looked at the paper thoughtfully, and then back to him, and then down at the paper again.

'It might help if you turn it up the right way,' he said.

'
I can't read,' the driver said.

So Anastas Mikoyan calmly explained what he wanted the driver to do. Then he signalled to a group of guards to accompany him onto the train.

The train was packed solid; people were standing in the aisles. He found the guard and the guard led him to the two Germans. Strangely, wherever he went a silence descended. Eyes watched in silence as Sergo Ordzhonikidze and his party walked through the train. Eventually he found the two eminent surgeons.

'
Welcome to Soviet Russia,' he said. Even Anastas Mikoyan, thinking to himself, had to agree that the greeting sounded rather hollow.

The two Germans stared back.
To them it was just another setback amongst the many they had already experienced.

'
You haven't come all this way just to tell us that,' Schroder indignantly replied.

'
You're absolutely right I have not,' the Armenian paused. 'I'm afraid that you, both as privileged guests of 'Bolshevik' government and, you must remember, your safety is of paramount importance ... you two must come with us.'

Gottschalk groaned,
'What do you mean safety?'

Mikoyan cleared his throat,
'We have had reports that 'White' forces are operating in this area and my instructions are for your safe arrival in Moscow. If you were to stay on this train we cannot guarantee your safe conduct.'

'
Rubbish! Why don't you put some soldiers on the train? Come on that's common sense!   How else, at this time of year, are you going to get us to Moscow,' Schroder said.

'
Well I'm not supposed to tell you this, we have been reliably informed that the track near Vyasma has been ripped up and 'they' are waiting to ambush this train. So it makes good sense that we have come to find you, take you off the train and find some alternative means of getting you safely to Moscow!'

'
The 'they', that you refer to! We passed them before we got to Minsk!'

'
As I say my orders are that you both come with me. Look, they have their agents; they also know when the train should be arriving. So they will be looking for it, the more time we spend arguing, the more time they have to find the train. So, it's up to you gentlemen.'

Reluctantly the two Germans got their belongings and followed
'The Bolshevik' out of the train. Mikoyan led the two men into the forest. Schroder and Gottschalk followed, in the distance they could hear the train pulling away. The two men looked at each other, but said nothing. After walking for twenty minutes, the party found themselves in a clearing. There a car was waiting for them. Their luggage was loaded into the boot, they got in and the car set off. Approximately an hour later they arrived at a fortified Dacha. Mikoyan informed the guests of the 'Soviet Republic' that they would be staying here until it was safe to go on to Moscow.

Once inside the Dacha, Schroder and Gottschalk took the opportunity to question their captor.
How long were they going to be staying here for? The Armenian replied that he did not think that it would be that long; but he reminded them that there was a 'Civil War' going on and things, especially around here, were pretty fluid and tended to change on a day by day basis. Lines were constantly drawn and redrawn.

The Germans reminded him why they were here and who they were supposed to be operating on.
The Armenian replied that, with the available resources, everything was being done that could be done to get them to Moscow.  Now he had to leave to oversee their travelling arrangements, but he would be returning soon.

Anastas Mikoyan did return, in fact he returned on many occasions, but the story was always the same.
The gist of it was, that it was the belief of the 'Supreme Soviet', and acting on information received, that 'White' insurgents in collusion with 'Foreign' agencies had got wind of the Germans visit. They also knew why they were here and they had put every resource at their disposal to track down and kill the two surgeons. The same source that had supplied the information had said that their every endeavour was to be made, and this was apparently Admiral Kolchak's very words, 'to cut the head's off the German snakes!'

Days turned into a we
ek and one week turned into two weeks. Mikoyan's story was always the same, 'As we speak, death squads are combing the forest, they have one purpose and that is to kill you.'

Days in the Dacha were, pretty much, always the same.
Breakfast was served at seven o'clock and then, if the weather was clement, they were allowed to walk around the yard; lunch at midday, and then an evening meal at six. The food consisted of soup served with black bread and some days if they were lucky, meat in the shape of venison would be served. Whatever they did and wherever they went the surgeons were always under the watchful eye of someone. Whether it was Mikoyan, the cook or the guards.

The Germans had tried direct
confrontation with their captor but this always produced the same mechanical answer, 'Everything possible, is being done to try to get you safely to Moscow.  But the road is closed, the town has changed hands again and bandits and other class criminals are operating in this area. If we were to let you go we could not guarantee your safety.'

Still they waited.
Then Mikoyan returned one day and told them were going to be taken back to the railway line. From there they would catch a train to Moscow. The two doctors looked at each other. Each could read the others mind.

There had been delay after delay; this was not really surprising in the aftermath of the Kaplan assassination attempt.
The Kremlin was gripped in fear and paranoia. Eventually last minute arrangements regarding Lenin's operation were worked out, first between the 'Central Committee' and then, later, between Stalin and 'The Doctor' Sergo Ordzhonikidze.

Between the pair of them the fine minutiae of the operation was worked out.
As they had previously decided Sergo was, because of his medical experience as a doctor, going to oversee the operation. Mikoyan would be instructed to take care of the Chinese bodyguard. The operation itself would be conducted, here, inside the Kremlin. Due to its very nature there was going to be a complete 'Security Blackout', only those directly involved knew, and that was only on a need to know basis. The 'Georgian Doctor' and 'The Boss', once other details surrounding the operation had been worked out, waited for Mikoyan to get back from the forest. Then, and only then, could the plan swing into action. In the meantime Sergo Ordzhonikidze went off to the 'Funk Hole' to pick up the two German impostors.

Astonishingly for them
, the two 'Layabouts' were surprisingly sober. A ludicrous thought began to take shape in Sergo Ordzhonikidze's mind. It occurred to him that Krupin and Mazhulin were actually taking things seriously. When he arrived the two were dressed in their best suits. If you had not known, you would have thought them to be professionals of one thing or another. Maybe doctors or lawyers! He plied them with vodka, discreetly hidden in bottles of surgical spirit. What a waste, the pair joked! Sergo, thinking to himself thought they would, probably, have drunk that as well.

Privately, Serge Ordzhonikidze was amused that these two drunken incompetents were going to operate on Lenin.
It was no secret that Vladimir Iilyvich did not like drunkenness in any shape or form. The 'Hero of The Revolution' felt, and quite rightly so, that alcohol abuse was the curse that blighted the Russian peoples.

Ordzhonikidze handed over the necessary paperwork
, then briefed the pair and then they headed out to a waiting car. On arrival at the Kremlin, they were ushered through checkpoint after checkpoint until they finally arrived at the medical wing. The wing itself was an old dormitory, which had received a good scrubbing down and a new coat of paint. The three of them waited, Sergo waited discretely by the window. Whilst they waited one of his aides made sure that the two wards were frequently plied with vodka. After an hour Sergo Ordzhonikidze heard a commotion over on the far side of the yard.  A door opened and then flanked by bodyguards, a trolley appeared.  On the trolley he could just make out Lenin's face. The rest of the body was hidden under a white cloth.  A nurse was holding a drip and she was accompanied by the rest of the party. Behind them Ordzhonikidze could see his boss and mentor bringing up the rear.

Once inside the building, the guards formed a protective ring inside and out of the building.
No one could leave or enter. That was of no consequence to Sergo Ordzhonikidze, everything was in place and the two, 'Bogus', Germans were, for the moment, well out of the way.

It also amused him that Lenin
's personal bodyguard had been removed earlier in the day.  'The Boss' had simply given the Chinese bodyguards the day off. They were all too keen to accept it, none of them could remember the last time such an opportunity had presented itself; not only that, it was tactfully implied that if the day was not taken, the opportunity to have a day off might not materialise again in the foreseeable future. So it was a case of take it or leave it 'Boys'. Also, and this was completely off the record, it was stated that they could spend the day in the Prokrovhka district gambling amongst themselves. When one or two zealots queried this Stalin winked and said that the Soviet in that part of town had been instructed, on his orders, to close a blind eye. Without fuss, and all in agreement, they took the day off.

Once inside the building the plan quickly sped into action.
As arranged the nurse had given Lenin a mild sedative. This had put him out. Mazhulin then administered an anaesthetic. Whilst this was taking effect, Krupin and the nurse arranged the tools and other implements they would need for the operation.

Satisfied that Vladimir Iilyvich was out cold, the three of them turned him over onto his side.
Krupin made an incision in the back of the neck and started ferreting around for the bullet. Stalin was now standing by his side. Both of them looked on intently.

'
I thought you said that these two were a pair of incompetents?'  Stalin said.

Sergo Ordzhonikidze had to agree that they seemed to be doing quite a professional job.
However that illusion was shattered a moment or two later when, after a particularly vicious wrench from Krupin, Vladimir Illyvich suddenly sat bolt upright and screamed. In that frozen moment, Lenin seemed to look around and take stock of everything around him. Instantaneously Mazhulin turned around and belted the 'Soviet Leader' in the face. This appeared to knock him out cold. Stalin and Ordzhonikidze looked at each other and grinned. The rest of the operation was uneventful. Towards the end Sergo Ordzhonikidze donned a gown and then went to inspect the pair's handiwork. Satisfied that they had already exacerbated an already serious injury, he instructed them to wrap it up, so they could send the Russian leader back to his apartment to recuperate. Hopefully he would not recover.