The Margin of Evil! (52 page)

It only took a split second for Georgii to make up his mind.
But in that second he knew that it was the right thing to do. Yes he could have killed each and every one of them if he`d wanted to, but the voice of experience was telling him, that others would follow, and after them still more would come after him. Georgii was on the wrong side of safety, he had no choice but to give himself up. He threw his gun out into the open and lent up against the tree. He waited for them to come.

'
Don't shoot! I surrender ... my guns over there!'  Georgii got up and dusted himself off then walked out to face the armed party. His hands were held up high.

'
That's him,' a voice from behind said.

Georgii turned around
and he could see that little maggot Yezhov dressed in children's clothes, standing waist high to the others in the forest undergrowth.

Georgii couldn
't resist and said. 'Been performing favours ... for your master, eh?'

Yezhov retorted with one of his sickly smiles.
'Time to go traitor, 'The Boss' doesn't like to be kept waiting!'

Georgii
's hands were bound behind him and they walked off through the forest. After about twenty minutes they all returned to the clearing.

'
The Boss' had resumed his perch on the tree stump and was puffing away on his pipe when Falkowski's party broke into the open.

'
Long time no see ... Georgii Radetzky,' he said. Getting up and walking towards him he said, 'You wouldn't believe the headaches that you've caused me!'  As he faced him. 'So where are the others in your little party,' he asked.

'What other's
,' Georgii replied.

He pistol whipped Georgii Ra
detzky across the face and said, 'Get down on your knees!'

Stalin watched Georgii Radetzky drop to his knees.
Then he went over and talked with Nikolai Yezhov and Sergo Ordzhonikidze. A moment later 'The Commissar for The Nationalities,' faced Radetzky again and said, 'You've got something that I want. You know what it is, and I want it now!'  Addressing the Poles, 'Have you searched him?

'
He only had these,' the leader of the Poles said. Falkowski threw down the pistol and the coat.

Stalin walked over and picked up the coat.
Out of his pocket he produced a 'Swiss Army Knife', and then set about, carefully, ripping the back seam of the coat apart. He put his hand inside of the gash and then pulled out the file.

'
Well, well, well ... what do we have here Mr Okhrana man? What do we have here?'  Stalin returned to where Yezhov and Ordzhonikidze were standing and leafed through the tatty file.

The three of them walked towards Radetzky.

'You can stand up now! Undo his hands and ...' the 'Commissar' did not have time to complete his sentence.

'
Stay right where you are, and drop your weapons! Don't any of you move,' the voice behind him said.

'
What the fuck,' Stalin muttered.

The Lithuanian moved from behind and kicked the weapons away.
He brandished a Mauser C6 pistol and said, 'You don't remember me do you?'

Stalin looked at the man and said,
'No I don't remember you, and what the 'Fuck' do you think you`re playing at?!'

'
Then you should Koba. Just as well my memory is long and yours is short. But let me refresh it for you.'  Turning to the Poles, 'You men can go.'  Falkowski's party walked off into the forest; a moment later they were gone. The Lithuanian faced the Georgian and said, 'Let me nudge your memory a little. Does the name Peter Piaktow mean anything to you? Huh ...' He then turned and faced Georgii, 'Stay put Comrade Okhrana man!'

Stalin stood there in half stunned silence.
He pointed his finger at Piaktow, but whatever he was trying to say, he just couldn't get out, all that came out was a hoarse kind of whistle, a soft, 'youoooooooh!'

'
Does Sidney Street, mean anything to you,' the Lithuanian added, 'I bet it's all coming back now! Isn't it.' Pointing to the still kneeling Georgii Radetzky, 'You were working in the Russian embassy at the time! You tell him,' the Lithuanian said pointing towards Radetzky.

Georgii struggled
to remember and then blurted out, 'I was a case officer in 'The Okhrana' at that time ... But I've forgotten, it was a long, long, time ago!'

'
I haven't forgotten what you, and that 'Dirty' Georgian, did ... Peter Piaktow doesn't
ever
forget!'

The Lithuanian could see that Stalin and Radetzky were both stupefied.
He, was loving every minute of it! 'That's what I took from the 'Good Olde' English 'Bobbies!'  Piaktow dropped his trousers and showed them his scars. 'That's what I took!'  Turning to face Joseph Stalin, he could see that the colour was draining out of the Georgians face. 'What about the girls? Heh!  What about, Fritz and William? They need to be avenged! And they will be avenged right here; right now,' he screamed.

'
What about them,' Radetzky's voice said.

Joseph Stalin watched in amazement as Piaktow turned to face Radetzky, Piaktow was holding the Mauser with both hands.
The Georgian could see that the Latvian was only seconds away from using it.

'
What about them,' Radetzky said, 'What about them! My understanding was there was an informer in The Gardstein gang and it could have been you!'

'
You're a liar,' the Latvian said.

Stalin still looked on
and was astounded by the brazen cheek of the man who only moments before had stared death right in the face. 'Unfortunately she was better looking than you,' Radetzky said.

'
You're going to die ..; Prick! Get down on your knees!!'

The Commissar for The Nationalities
' watched the Latvian brace himself, but it never came.

Chapter Fifty Three

Yulia had been watching everything from the safety of the undergrowth.
It was almost dark.

In front of her she had watched the whole story unfold.
She had watched Stalin rip Georgii's coat apart and she had watched him find the concealed file. She had watched in equal, amazement as the Lithuanian, now turned Latvian, had come from behind and she watched him hi-jack the proceedings. She had watched as each person shouted at the other, the accusations and the counter recriminations. She found it hard to believe that anyone, like Piaktow, could bare a grudge and for so long. More importantly, Yulia Kilduff was amazed at the apparent 'Coolness' of Georgii Radetzky, but she had decided that, this time, there was going to be no going back. She wasn't going to let her heart get the better of her, not a second time.

A bright flash illuminated the clearing, instantaneously a roar of thunder followed.

All the players faces were briefly illuminated, then there was silence ... a muffled thump followed.

Yulia heard Sidney Reilly
's voice say, 'Nobody move! Stay exactly where you are! Yulia get the file!'

She
clambered down and walked towards the file. It only took a second, but it was a scene that she, and all of the clearings occupants, would never forget. Georgii looked at her, like Stalin had only moments before, he tried to speak, but nothing came out. Yezhov and Ordzhonikidze stood there expressionless. The Latvian lay face down and was completely motionless. She stepped over his corpse, picked up the folder and then disappeared into the undergrowth on the far side of the clearing.

Still kneeling on the ground, Georgii Radetzky was now squinting his eyes, he said a short prayer to himself, and awaited the inevitable.
It never came.  He saw the flash and heard the loud bang, Georgii watched as Piaktow's body crumpled up in front of him, he watched the blood, slowly, drain out of Piaktows corpse.

In horror he had watched Yulia Kilduff emerge f
rom a thicket, pick up the file and then coolly disappear back into the undergrowth. Not even a cursory nod of recognition and the bitch was carrying his child. Once she had gone, there was only silence. He just stared at the forest wall. Then he felt a hand pick him up.  It was the hand of Joseph Stalin.

'
Come on Georgii ... let's go home,' the Georgian said. Sergo Ordzhonikidze handed Georgii the remains of his coat. 'Leave the Lewis gun, let's get out of here, it's too dangerous to hang around any longer,' Stalin said. The four of them left the clearing. 

Five days later they arrived back in Moscow.
To all sense and purposes the place looked the same, but it wasn't.  After all 'The Crap', that he'd taken, nothing could ever be the same again. But, by Georgii's reckoning, you live, you learn and you try to move on.  Yes it was a simple philosophy, but it had worked for him in the past and he saw no reason now why it shouldn't work again. People were like snakes, all they had to do was shed their skins.

They took him back to his rooms
and told him to take a few days off. When he felt better he could return to the Kremlin. Georgii had to admit that they were quite understanding, despite the fact that he'd not actually delivered, what it was that they were wanting. The files were gone and, along with it, all the incriminating information that they contained. Georgii was not even asked to put another one together from memory. They left him, pretty much, alone.

The Moscow of nineteen
twenty was not that different from the place he'd left behind. There was evidence of decline everywhere. Weeds grew in the middle of once busy thoroughfares; there were still shortages of everything from flour to clothing, Georgii reasoned that the 'Kevshors', had never had it so good, blackmarkets were rife, and, in parts of the city, law and order had completely broken down.

By pre-war standards people
's lives were still wretched and the city continued, at an alarming rate, to empty out. Streets were half deserted and looting was widely practised at night. Despite disease, personal loss and despair, there was an optimism that had not been there before. It was hard to say what exactly had brought about this change, but maybe it had something to do with the fact, you know when you hit rock bottom, that things can't get any worse than they are now and if you carry on down this line of thinking, then eventually you come to the conclusion that, inevitably, things can only get better. Georgii figured that maybe he could have done a lot worse. Perhaps fate had dictated that his corpse, whatever was left of it, especially after the wild creatures of the night had helped themselves to it, would be, by now, decaying in the middle of that lonely forest. Really it didn't pay to think about it, but human nature being what it was; wherever you looked, there was always something to remind him of the last eighteen months. Everywhere he turned, there was always a reminder. He could see it in the drunkard Reznikoff's eyes.

But there were still one or two reminders of the past.
The first was a good one; Stalin had kept Georgii's rooms on, in a city where living space exacted a high premium. The Housing Committee could have billeted two families into his designated 'Living space' and he would have had to factor himself into that equation. But, because of his status as 'Cheka' case officer, he was in a privileged position, whereby he was to be left alone. The room by the door was almost as he had left it. His books, the books he'd found on the street, were still there, the tatty furniture and the mirror were exactly where he'd left them on that night when he'd taken flight. In the wardrobe, his clothes were there and it looked as though his uniform had been cleaned and his shirts had been ironed.

So it was that Georgii found himself, eighteen months after it all had begun, sitting in the same wing chair, staring across the same street.
By his reckoning there was no point hanging around here feeling sorry for himself; he might as well go back to work. He needed to take his mind off things.

His place of work was in the office adjacent to Joseph Stalin
's suite of offices. 'The Boss' was often away and, in his absence Georgii was often authorised to act on his behalf and, in some cases, make executive decisions on Stalin's behalf.  Infact the arrangement worked well for the both of them. From Stalin's point of view, he had a hard working diligent aide, whom could be trusted with departmental affairs, and other business; and, from Georgii's, he had the suzerainty of one of Russia's most powerful men, 'The Rising Star' of the party.  He was privy to most of Stalin's business and was often used by him, sometimes at short notice, as a sounding board and confident. The only others who enjoyed a similar level of access were Anastas Mikoyan and Sergo Ordzhonikidze, but these two, by their very nature, were high profile in their dealings with Stalin. Georgii was not, he stayed firmly in the background. As time went on Georgii Radetzky excelled in his new role and 'The Boss' was happy that his earlier assessment of him had been proven so correct.

The second reminder of the past happened many months later.
It actually happened during the hard winter of nineteen twenty, twenty one. It came in the shape of a large package. Georgii opened it and, to his dismay, the two folders were inside, also there was a letter. The letter had been written in Warsaw five months earlier, but inside of it was a second shorter note. He started with the first: