“Yes, they were our allies in the past and could be our allies in the future.”
“We meet tomorrow to negotiate. We’re on friendly terms thus far, and I would like to continue that goodwill. The last thing we want is for them to turn against us and join the Whites. See what you can learn. Ask around, find out how many weapons they have and what their morale is like. And judge if they seem more inclined to support us or our rivals.”
“Yes, comrade.”
Another click of the heels, and then a blast of wind.
Dalek met the eyes of the clerk sitting beside him. The man’s smile suggested he knew exactly what Dalek had been doing. “Let me show you how the relay works.”
Dalek was no longer interested in telegraph equipment. Kral and the other officers would want to hear about the series of orders to the local Bolsheviks. But if the man was going to overlook Dalek’s eavesdropping, then Dalek was prepared to be a model of interest, no matter how mundane and detailed the man’s explanations were.
Chapter Nine
Filip led the men in calisthenics the morning after he and Nadia had seen the Cheka agent. He’d wanted to shoot the man. It was his duty as a husband to protect his wife. More than that, he was furious over what the agent had done. But revenge went both ways. Filip could punish the man for shooting Nadia’s family and letting one of his subordinates assault her, but what would that mean for the rest of the legion? They didn’t want to go to war against the Russians. The Russians were their Slavic brothers.
But Nadia. She’d been so frightened. And it was Filip’s fault. He’d asked her to go shopping, even when she’d been nervous. He’d never gain her trust if he couldn’t keep her safe.
As they finished their drills, Dalek made his way over. “His name is Vlad Orlov. He’s been poking around, asking questions.”
“You found that out already?” Filip had told Dalek about the Chekist and asked for information, but he hadn’t expected results so quickly.
Dalek shrugged. “He was the one in the telegraph office yesterday, so I asked my new friend, the clerk, all about him.”
“You say he’s poking around. What about?”
“Sounding out our morale and political leanings. And recruiting, indirectly.”
Filip huffed. “We’ve stated our neutrality in Russian affairs.” That was why Filip hadn’t already found and killed Orlov. “It would be nice if the Bolsheviks would give us the same courtesy.”
“That could explain the indirect part.”
“Anton heard they plan to send us to Arkhangelsk, stop the trains in the middle of nowhere, and preach the gospel of Bolshevism. If they get us hungry enough, it might start to sound appealing.”
“Appealing to you, Corporal Sedlák?” Kral stood nearby, his arms crossed. “Would you compromise your beliefs for a loaf of bread?”
It would take more than food to lure Filip to the Red cause, but that wasn’t the case with everyone. “Get a man hungry enough, and desperation will make just about anything palatable. Especially when he’s stranded on the single track to Arkhangelsk.”
“Well, we’re not going to Arkhangelsk. We’re going to Vladivostok, per a new agreement with the Soviets here and in Moscow. We’re allowed to travel unmolested as free citizens. We can keep one hundred sixty-eight rifles and one machine gun for every train to protect ourselves. The rest we’re to turn over.”
Give up all but a hundred and sixty-eight rifles per train? “But we’ve earned our rifles! Some of us had to take them from dead German soldiers! And the rest would have fallen into German hands if we hadn’t collected them.”
Kral nodded. “Make sure the Soviets don’t see more than the allotted amount, eh? They’re appointing commissars to accompany us, so hide them well.”
“Spies?” It was Dalek’s question, but Filip had thought the same thing.
The corners of Kral’s lips pulled in amusement. “Technically, they are to ensure our safe passage. But yes, I think the truth is closer to your statement, Pokorný. We’re to move in groups of six hundred men, supposedly to keep traffic manageable. What do you think of that last part?”
“If we’re in smaller groups, we’re weaker.” Dalek frowned. “Why did we agree to something like this?”
“Because that’s what our leaders in France said to do. And because we don’t want a battle in Russia. The Bolsheviks were friendly during the evacuation of the Ukraine, so we have reason to believe they’ll cooperate with us in Russia.”
Filip wasn’t sure he agreed. “They’re trying to recruit our men into the Red Army.”
“Keep the men near the trains, then. We’ve already lost some of our Russian officers. We don’t want to lose our men too.”
***
A knock on the wooden siding drew Nadia’s attention, and she turned to see Filip standing on the ground outside the boxcar’s doorway.
“Good morning, Filip.” There was something comforting about the man with a pleasant face and a generous nature. Like seeing a friend, and with her past life erased, there were few others she could give that title to.
“All alone?”
“Yes.” Veronika was with her husband, like most of the other women. Veronika was another unexpected friend. The other women had stopped snickering behind Nadia’s back, but she wouldn’t call them friendly.
“I forgot to give you this yesterday.” He handed up a piece of paper.
She took it and scanned the words.
. . . do solemnly swear that my marriage with Nadia Sedláková nee Petrova was never consummated and hereby state that I have no objection to an annulment. The marriage on March 8, 1918, between Filip Sedlák and Nadia Petrova should hereby be considered null and void.
“It’s not official, but it might be useful if I can’t be there to answer questions.” Filip looked away. “Anyway, I wanted you to have it in case you need it. I left the date blank, for you to fill in later. If you use black ink, it will match the rest of the document.”
It was witnessed by Anton Tothova and Dalek Pokorný.
“Thank you.” It was what they’d agreed upon, what she’d wanted. So why did she feel such gloom as she put the affidavit in the secondhand attaché case he’d bought her the day before? And why was his expression so sad?
“Are you busy now?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then I am at your service. At least until evening when I have guard duty.” He straightened as he spoke, as if reporting before a general.
“Perhaps you could show me my duties. I’ve a great deal to learn.”
“Such as?”
Where to start? “Could you teach me to wash clothes? I’ve never done it before.”
He nodded and reached out to assist her from the boxcar. Two rickety metal steps helped with the descent, but she was glad for his firm, balancing hand. “Let’s gather supplies first.”
She followed him over the tracks and around long trains sitting, waiting. “Will we be in Penza long?”
“I’m not sure. The local Soviet is split. The longer we stay, the longer we interrupt traffic. But the longer we stay, the more likely they are to recruit from among our ranks, and we have more training than the Red Army does.”
“Prime recruits.”
Filip scowled. “I convinced a lot of these men to fight for a new Czechoslovakia. I didn’t recruit them to fight for the Bolsheviks. And they aren’t content with stealing our men. They want our weapons too. We just want to leave in peace, but they want us to supply their equipment and their personnel. I might agree to surrendering our weapons when we reach Vladivostok, but to turn them over here, with all of Russia still to cross?” Frustration colored his voice and showed in the tense set of his shoulders and the way one of his hands squeezed into a fist. But paired with the frustration was a mildness she admired.