The Margin of Evil! (45 page)

He didn
't dare speak of it to Yulia, or anyone else for that matter, about the way he felt. They would only tell him he was overreacting. Gerhardt had said, 'You're not Nicolai Tolstoy,' when he had tried to talk about the way he felt about things. But, all the same, the feeling lay there in the pit of his stomach and it refused to go away. It was only a feeling, but it persisted to the point where it would not go away; but, on many occasions when Georgii had had this feeling, this time he'd just have to learn to live with it, but still it would not go away.

The forest now seemed to have no beginning or end.
Shafts of light cut through the 'Rusty Dusty' colours and the browns and greens of forest. The forests canopy stretched from the west, heading east right across, bar one or two large open spaces, all the way to the Pacific. No one was going to find you here, the guide reassured him; Georgii just hoped their leader was right, because the aching in his gut, and previous life experience, was telling him otherwise.

After one such time, when the guide had disappeared for a long time, only to return, telling them that
they had to head further south, apparently there had been skirmishing ahead of them and the area was not safe. They were going to head for the safety of Luck. From there they would try and cross the front line, and make for Lvov, and then on to Krakow.

As it turned ou
t, it was easier said than done. The guide, after another such disappearance, explained to them that the Soviet advance had accelerated, at speed, towards 'The Vistula' river. Long after the conversation with the guide had finished, Georgii sat down and thought that, if the Poles had any sense, they would make a stand there. Right here, right on the river bank. Also he remembered the offensive of nineteen sixteen when the advance into the Carpathian Mountains, slowly, turned into a rout of the Austrians, and then Ludendorff's counterattack that had given them a dose of their own medicine. 'Aah nostalgia', Georgii thought.

But that retreat had been hard to take.
The army had disintegrated there and then. Looking back on it, it was there that the officer corps had lost faith in the leadership. It was there that the necessity for change in Russia had been borne. But, like all things it had not been immediately obvious. Even now, as he sat there sitting on a tree stump, slightly away from the others, he wondered what historians in twenty or thirty years' time would make of all this. How would they all be judged? Yulia came up to him with a cup of coffee, and then she put her arm around his shoulder and then she gave him a soothing kiss on the cheek. Afterwards, he gave her one of his long penetrating, loving, appreciative stares.

'
What is going through your mind Georgii,' she said.

'
Oh ... nothing much.  I was just thinking about the present and the past. Don't ask me, which order it was all in,' he said.

'
Georgii!  We are going to get out of this alive? Aren't we?'

Of course we are.
Don't worry Yulia, we'll soon be safe.'  He held her hand firmly, and tightened his grip, as he said those words.

They sat there in silence, under the bough of a mighty oak.
In the silence they watched the pillars of sunlight as they filtered through forest roof. The bugs and flies in an instance were brilliantly illuminated only to disappear within a second. As Georgii watched, he felt the flies and bugs were metaphors for them all. You were born, you lived, you flourished, and then you died. Not necessarily in that order. But the more he thought about it, the more Georgii came to realise that you didn't have to be dead, in the physical sense, you could still carry on living. But you were dead in the emotive sense; in so much as you felt nothing for anyone, or anything.  All through his adult and child life, he'd seen evidence of this; you could be emotionally dead, but still you carried on living. Back in Moscow he'd wondered about this, but Yulia had changed all that. There was a distant whistle that cut through the silent forest. Georgii and Yulia got up. It was time for their party to move on.

The following day the faint rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance.
Pyotr and Anna kept on asking when it would rain. Georgii could only reply soon. As the day progressed the sounds of thunder became more consistent. Georgii didn't have the heart to tell the two children that they were walking into a war zone. But soon he knew he would have to explain everything to them.

The guide addressed the
party.  He explained to them all that, based on the intelligence information he had received from locals and so forth, and when he had been out on his various reconnaissance trips, it was now getting too dangerous to travel in the direction he had originally intended. He told them that they were now entering into an area of intense military activity. The guide explained that based on what he had managed to find out there was no conventional front line, due to the fact that the Polish army had retreated, in good order, towards the safety of Poland and the Vistula River. The area they now found themselves in was crawling with combatants from both sides. Their group was too big to travel as a single party. So he told them what he was going to do. Basically, he had decided to split the group up so they could take advantage of the relative confusion, and from here he would have to make two trips to the relative safety of Poland. They would draw straws on who went with which group.

Two things happened that were serve notice on their honeymoon.
The first was, Georgii felt a further disintegration in the pit of his stomach; the moment that the guide had told them of his plans, his bowel had begun to dissolve, he started to experience that 'age old' Georgii Radetzky sinking feeling. Thinking that 'History' was beginning to repeat itself and in light of previous, personal experiences, Georgii knew there was nothing that he could do to stop events unfolding, fate was decreeing, once again, that he was going to lose out. Georgii let out a short sigh.

The second was shortly after the guide
's speech. Pyotr came up to him and had explained that, for a long time, he had suspected that they were being followed. When, along with Anna he had gone to investigate, they were both quite shocked that their worst fears had been confirmed. But the real shock was, they were not being tracked by one group, they were indeed being tracked by two and it seemed that both groups were entirely ignorant of the other.

Even with his delicate stomach a
nd ever increasing aching pains, Georgii scolded the two children for not telling him sooner. But the worst was yet to come. The guide, out on one of his many recce, was in touch with the smaller of the two groups. This group, in actual fact, was a group of one, occasionally joined by another.

'
Christ Almighty', he thought, this changes everything? Gripped in panic, Georgii weighed up the options. To do anything hasty might jeopardise their chances; so it seemed that they had no alternative but to, tentatively, go along with the guides plans. But if the opportunity arose, and they were all still together, they could all 'Cut and Run-For-It' when the opportunity presented itself.

But the guide was beckoning everyone in the group over.
He had the straws laid out in a row. He explained how it was going to work. Those who drew the short straw would lie low here, and wait until he returned, and then they would make up the main body of the second group that would head off in the direction of Poland and the safety of Warsaw. He then put the straws which, in actual fact, were quite long, or not so, bracken stems into his hat. They all took one. Anna and Pyotr drew long ones, as did he, but when he looked over towards Yulia, he was shocked to see that she had drawn a short one.

Georgii asked if he could have a private word with the guide.
They walked a little way into the forest. When he was out of earshot, he asked him if it would be alright if he could swap his straw with that of Yulia's. The guide 'ummed and aahed' and then said no, and squawked on that it would not be fair to the other members of the party, if people were not going to accept the luck of the draw. There could only be one draw, and then the guide made as if to walkback to the group.

Georgii grabbed him by the arm
and then, with his other hand, jabbed his pistol into the guides back. The guide realised that he had no alternative but to acquiesce. Even though he could see that their leader was grudgingly giving in. Georgii pushed him away. The guide pulled himself together and walked back, closely followed by Georgii, to the crowd.

The guide, completely unflustered, told them what he wanted them to do.
The first group was already making ready to leave; Yulia was going along with Anna and Pyotr. The other group was led into the safety of the forest and the guide told them to bivouac down amongst the bracken and the ferns until his return. Georgii made his way back and said his goodbyes to Yulia, Anna and Pyotr. Yulia and Georgii swapped their overcoats.

It was a tearful goodbye, as far as goodbyes were concerned.
The two children did not want to leave and virtually had to be dragged off after the guide by Yulia.

For a long time, after the first group had departed, Georgii stood there staring off in the direction that they had walked off in.
Then he solemnly turned around and headed off back to the second groups temporary encampment.

The funny thing was that in all the time that they had travelled as a group Georgii had only had time for Yulia, O
'Reilly and the two children. Occasionally he had spoken to the guide and, on several occasions, he had made small talk with some of his other fellow, travellers. But, as was his custom, he kept himself to himself. Not unsurprisingly the others had done the same. In this 'Golden Age of Paranoia', no one was going to completely trust the other, unless they had to; you could see it in their eyes, as Georgii Radetzky knew only too well the Cheka, and its informants, were everywhere.

Sitting down amongst some tall forest ferns
, Georgii started to think. It was obvious that the two groups were after him. The reason; it was simply this, he knew too much. His presence could only jeopardise the wellbeing of the others. He looked at his watch. It was only an hour since the first group had set off. So looking around him, Georgii went to his pack and fished out his field glasses, and then he made one of those life changing, Georgii Radetzky, executive decisions. One of those decisions, would ultimately, send his life off in a completely different direction. On the pretence of going to answer the call of nature, Georgii set off after them, but made sure that he kept a safe distance. It didn't take him long to catch up with the first group.

Georgii reflected on the moment, shook his head, and then chuckled quietly to himself.
Old Okhrana habits die hard, he thought!

Chapter Forty Three

The interview that Stalin conducted with Comrade Trofimov was short, sharp, and, as usual, sweet. He congratulated her on the excellent piece of information that she'd provided. Joseph Stalin was feeling good, in fact, on the inside he bordered on the ecstatic.

This did not go unnoticed.
Trofimov decided that she would pull out all the stops. She enquired whether the 'Comrade Commissar' had made any dinner arrangements, if not, would he care to dine with her.

Comrade Stalin,
as he stood there pondering the 'Granite Faced Slag's' not so unreasonable dinner request, decided to 'Play hard to get', under the pretence that he had to make all haste and get to Lvov. Matters of 'National Security' rested in his hands and he had decided to make an early start in the morning. But if she could wait until his return, he would be more than delighted to take up her invitation.

But
it was true, he had to get on after Radetzky. Strike whilst the iron was hot, too much was at stake, and he simply could not afford to let the trail go cold. So, after an impromptu working dinner, and several phone calls to Moscow, Joseph Stalin had decided on a firm line of action. The Lithuanian driver would stay with him and Sergo Ordzhonikidze and a team of experienced and trusted Kevshors would arrive 'Poste-haste' to augment their party.

The plan was, when they arrived they would fan out into the forest to track down the illusive Radetzky.
Also 'The Commissar for The Nationalities', was only too aware that the 'Central Committee' had given him a job to do and 'do-it' he must. So at four the next morning he pressed on towards Lvov.

Two weeks later, on a brisk May morning Joseph Stalin rubbed his hands gleefully.
He felt pleased as punch.  The trap he had laid was set and the net was slowly closing in around Georgii Radetzky.

Brusilov was in place
and, unwittingly, 'The Old-boy' would be the bait. The Lithuanian was leading the party and the unsuspecting Georgii was moving in the right direction, towards Brusilov's cavalry encampment.

Chapter Forty Four

Georgii's guts had further deteriorated. He now felt distinctively uncomfortable, and his arse was getting sore, but through stubbornness and grim determination he managed to keep on trailing the first party.

Pyotr and Anna were right; two other groups were trailing the party.
Both kids had been most definitely 'Spot On' when they had told him about the Lithuanian guide communicating with one of the parties. Looking through his field glasses, and stretching his powers of deductive analysis to the limit, Georgii could see that the first group the Lithuanian communicated with was 'Cheka'. But 'Cheka' with a difference. With that party, there were also
others
he had not seen for a long time; it was those swarthy looking blackmarketeers from the railway yards of Moscow. The other group, if you could really call it a group, varied from one or two persons in size. It soon became obvious that both groups were tracking him, but now one of the groups was also now keeping 'a-weather-eye' upon the other.