taken them all for their own purposes.”
“Tell him we understand that,” Carter said. “Tell him we are on a mission for the army and need to find someone in authority to speak with.”
William nodded and turned back to the man, relaying the message. He gestured to a door to our left. “He says a Captain Aleksandrov is in charge. Says we can find him on the loading dock.”
We nodded our thanks to the man, while William added a spasiba for the three of us.
We walked back into the chill wind and gently falling snow. Before I could ask how we would know this Aleksandrov, we came upon a man standing on the platform, watching the loading and unloading. He had the obvious air of command, and if he was not the Captain, he would certainly know his whereabouts.
William led the way, excused himself in Russian, and began to explain our situation. A quizzical smile spread across the man’s face before he held up a hand to stop him.
“Your Russian is very good, my friend, but perhaps not as good as my English.”
“And much preferable,” Carter said with a laugh, “as my friend and I here speak not a word of the former.”
“Understandable. It is not an easy language, as I know well. My parents moved to England when I was young, so I struggle with its finer points even now. I returned on the eve of the Great War, to defend my homeland. I never thought,” he said, gesturing to the tumult around him, “that I would be defending her from my own brothers. And I certainly did not expect to see three Americans here, in Vladivostok, seeking my assistance. What brings you to this godforsaken place?”
“We come at the behest of General Denikin,” Carter said, handing him the pass. “We seek passage to Irkutsk, on an urgent errand for him, an old friend from well before the revolution.”
“General Denikin? I’m sorry to say that I’m not even sure he still lives. And besides, I do not believe he would have called you to Irkutsk if he knew the situation there now. What you see here is but a fraction of the chaos there. We will hold her as long as we can, but Irkutsk will be overrun by the Red Army by the spring, if not sooner. It may not see Christmas. I must advise you to abandon this plan.”
I watched as Aleksandrov handed Carter the pass, who shook his head.
“I’m sorry Captain, I can’t do that. We have obligations, and we must see them through.”
Aleksandrov’s eyes narrowed, and something of the friendliness he had offered us melted away even in the freezing cold.
“I don’t know what those obligations entail, and I won’t bother to ask since, if I judge you rightly, you wouldn’t tell me in any event. But I must ask you, are they worth your life? Are they worth the lives of your friends? If you travel to Irkutsk, you are putting all of them at risk. I’ll tell you what I should not, but what every Bolshevik knows already. Transbaikal is lost, my friends. We intend to halt the retreat at Chita and establish a new line there. But even that plan is suspect, and Chita lies several hundred miles east of Irkutsk. Go if you must, but know well what you face if you do. There is no help for you beyond the Baikal.”
“I thank you for your assistance, Captain. And I thank you for your warning.”
Aleksandrov nodded, not bothering to argue further.
“This train departs within the half-hour. The accommodations leave something to be desired, but they are the best I can do. I have no doubt you will find Colonel Rostov in Irkutsk. It is his home, and he will never leave it. I only hope that the same will not be said of you.”
Aleksandrov turned to his duties, and Carter glanced at William and me. We were committed, and he saw it in our eyes. We entered the train and made our way to the corner of a half-empty troop car. There we passed the next few nights as the train traveled inexorably west into the jaws of the advancing Red Army, a menace that now far outshone in our eyes anything we might find in
Michael Jecks
Eric J. Guignard (Editor)
Alaska Angelini
Peter Dickinson
E. J. Fechenda
Cecelia Tishy
Julie E. Czerneda
Jerri Drennen
John Grisham
Lori Smith