Peasants could take hardships. Nadia had seen that in the hospital. But they’d been at war for years. They wanted to plant and grow, not fight and flee. “Few Siberian peasants have reason to support Kolchak.”
“Well, he’s better than the Bolsheviks.”
No one wanted to risk their life for someone who wasn’t quite as bad as the other option. They wanted to fight for someone they supported wholeheartedly.
“Any word on your husband?” Sokolov asked.
“His regiment left, and the mail isn’t moving much faster than the men. I might have to chase him all the way to Vladivostok.” She would follow Filip until she couldn’t take another step forward, but she was beginning to think her last step would come long before she found him again.
Chapter Forty-Two
Another train depot, another thousand notes stuck to the walls of the station, and none of them from Nadia.
Filip headed back to his teplushka. He paused when he spotted a pile of corpses stacked like logs on the side of the train depot. They couldn’t be buried until the ground thawed in the spring. Filip bent to examine them. Unlike his efforts in the station, here he hoped he wouldn’t find sign of his wife.
He finished with the frozen bodies and straightened. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stomach looking at piles of dead Russians, especially when some of the bodies were children. But what if he passed Nadia’s body and never learned the truth?
Dalek practically barreled into Filip as he turned from the deceased refugees. Dalek was breathing hard, as though he’d been running. In his hand, he held a piece of paper. “It’s from her.”
Filip grabbed the letter. The words were mostly German, and the ink was so smudged he could barely read it.
Dearest Filip,
I’m trying my best to chase you to Vladivostok and, if I must, to Prague. But I have no money and very few friends. You can find me tending Voitsekhovsky’s wounded. The Fifth Regiment won’t take me. If this letter reaches you, please help me find you again. I love you, and I miss you.
A thousand kisses,
Nadia
“She’s alive,” were the first words that escaped Filip’s mouth.
“I would assume so, if she’s writing a letter.”
Nadia was alive. Powerful emotion made his throat feel raspy. Relief, regret, and for the first time in months, hope. He couldn’t cry, not in front of Dalek, but he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer of gratitude. She was out there waiting for him, and now he had a place to begin his search.
He wanted to march back to the Fifth Regiment and give them a serious reprimand for turning his wife away, but the Sixth Regiment was under similar orders. No refugees could be taken on the trains. There were barely spots for the legionnaires. Filip read the words again. “Voitsekhovsky? The Russian colonel with us in Chelyabinsk?”
“He’s a White general now, took over after Kappel died.”
If she was with the White Army, Filip could get to her in a matter of days. No trains moved west now, but with a horse or a sleigh . . .
He ran all the way to Kral’s quarters, and Dalek followed. Filip burst into the office and held the letter up. “I know where my wife is.”
Kral took the letter and read it through. “It might be best to telegraph Fifth Regiment, and you can wait for her here.”
Filip shook his head. “You know what a mess the rails are. I need to go to her.”
“By yourself?”
By himself, across Siberia, in the winter. It wasn’t the wisest course of action, but he was desperate to reach his wife. “Yes.”
“I’ll go with him,” Dalek said.
Kral nodded. “I’d rather you both stay, but I understand. Let me write a few letters so you can get back to us.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Revkom gave their answer a few days after Nikolai’s delegation made their offer. They would not turn over the gold, nor would they release Kolchak.
Nikolai seemed to have a permanent frown etched onto his face now, so different from the mischievous boy from Nadia’s memory. But she, too, was changed. War did that to people. It sucked out the laughter and smothered the joy. “I’ll take you and Tanya back,” he said. “I’m sorry the Czechs wouldn’t help you.”
Was Nadia better off staying with the White Army or chasing the legion and hoping Filip would send help? Staying in Irkutsk was dangerous, and thousands of other refugees fought for the food and shelter she would need. But would she ever find Filip if she returned to the Whites?
There was another possibility she had to consider. A year had passed since her abduction, and Filip was a soldier, vulnerable to bullets and subject to the myriad epidemics that raged across Siberia. He might be dead.
Sokolov tugged at the cuff of his glove. “We could use a pair of lookouts.”
“No.” Nikolai’s reply was immediate. “I’m taking her back where she’ll be safe.” He huffed. “Safer than with us anyhow. I doubt anywhere in Russia is safe right now.”
“She was useful when we escaped from our labor battalion.” Sokolov crossed his arms.
“She’s not a soldier.”
Nadia cleared her throat so the two of them would stop talking over her. “What are you planning? Perhaps I should be the one to decide whether or not I can help.”
Nikolai glanced outside the boxcar, then lowered his voice. “Revkom isn’t cooperating, so Voitsekhovsky will attack. And if Voitsekhovsky takes the city, we’ll take the gold.”
“Unless Revkom tries to move it.” Sokolov planted his legs in a firm stance, as if digging in for an argument.
“They can’t move it by rail. We’re blocking the way west, and to the east are the Czechs, the Japanese, and Semenov.” Nikolai rubbed his hands together for warmth. “Voitsekhovsky might take the city, but he can’t hold it. Most of the gold is still in boxcars under heavy guard—heavier than we could get past. But one of Revkom’s men managed to transfer part of it to his personal boxcar.”
Sokolov smiled. “And Tanya saw where.”
“So you’re planning to take it?”
Nikolai nodded. “An army can’t fight without money. With that gold, we can buy real boots for our men instead of the rags and bark they’re using now. Rifles, ammunition, artillery. A chance to save Russia from the Bolsheviks.”
He was just like Papa, only Papa hadn’t included Nadia in his plans. “Let me help.” She was a Linsky—how could she not do everything in her power to save her homeland?
“I’d rather you return to the camp.”
“So I can freeze to death with the rest of them? Or catch typhus?” She wanted to help her brother. She’d already lost him once. She didn’t want to lose him again, not when her efforts might mean the difference between success and failure. “Let me stay.”
Nikolai looked at her for a long time. Finally, he nodded. “Just as lookout.”
***
Nadia stood in the shadows of an old boxcar at Glaskov Station. The official Allied delegations had all moved on, but foreign troops still occupied Glaskov. The main tracks of the Trans-Siberian line were closely guarded, but the sidings weren’t, not always. Across the river, Irkutsk was under siege law—anyone caught outside could be killed on sight. That wasn’t so different from being part of a labor battalion. She’d faced that before. This time, at least, she had her brother and three others with her, people she trusted. And in her pocket, she carried a grenade. She’d never had that in the labor camps. And Glaskov wasn’t under Revkom’s control, not completely, so they were likely to get a warning before anyone fired at them.
Tanya waited along the track, ahead of where Nikolai, Sokolov, and Fedorov planned to move the boxcar. Nadia waited behind. Her role was simply to make sure no one approached from that direction. The whistled trill she and Nikolai had used in the woods of Lavanda Selo would serve as warning should anyone appear.