“Meaning what, Comrade?”
“Meaning I will be surprised if they are not employed on the assault, Comrade General Secretary. I would use the devils in such a role.”
Beria ventured his opinion.
“Then they were politically motivated. Now they would not be, so would they be any better than the average Germanski swine?”
Stalin was singularly amused to watch both Zhukov and Nazarbayeva look in disbelief at the NKVD leader, the former speaking swiftly, partially to spare the latter from more retribution.
“The average Germanski reached the gates of Moscow wearing a flimsy summer tunic, and holding a weapon too frozen to fire, Comrade Marshall. The average Germanski reached the banks of the Volga. He is not to be underestimated. And these men were not average Germanski.”
Stalin, ever playful when it came to watching his henchman placed in an uncomfortable position, sought the GRU officer’s view on the matter.
“Comrade General Secretary, I could only give you my opinion as this is fresh information.”
“Then do so. How do you see this, Comrade PodPolkovnik, without frills?”
“Comrade Marshall Zhukov is wholly correct. The German is a good soldier but the SS had something extra. I see no reason to believe that the absence of political motivation from the National Socialism cause will undermine their will and ability to fight.”
“Go on, you said something extra. Explain Comrade,” the Dictator presiding benignly over proceedings almost purred the words.
“They had unequalled military skills, zeal, comradeship and esprit de corps, Comrade General Secretary, which combined with a fanatical belief that they were without equal militarily. That made them the very worst of enemies.”
Beria rallied.
“Under German leadership remember that. Eisenhower and his cronies are lesser men as we have seen already.”
“That is true Comrade Marshall. However, Leopard identified SS officers Bittrich and Knocke as part of the command group for this Legion Corps.”
Beria contemplated saying nothing, but immediately understood that he would need the GRU’s agent.
“In which case, we will be able to interfere with their effectiveness.”
This time, it was Zhukov who was taken by surprise.
“How so, Comrade Marshall?”
“Knocke has a wife and two young girls, presently within the control of the NKVD, Comrade Marshall Zhukov.”
Pausing for the briefest of moments to permit his plan to form, he addressed Nazarbayeva in a friendly tone.
“So Comrade PodPolkovnik, one assumes that you can communicate with your agent in the field? Give him orders to follow, messages to deliver?”
Nazarbayeva understood perfectly.
“Yes, Comrade Marshall.”
“Then NKVD and GRU can between us,” he conceded, “Affect this SS Group.”
“Excellent, Comrade Marshall. Liaise with GRU and sort the SS bastards out swiftly. Anything else, comrade?”
Nazarbayeva passed the sole copy of the Leopard report to Stalin.
“No, Comrade General-Secretary.”
“Thank you, Comrade Nazarbayeva. Excellent work. You may go, but wait outside so that Comrade Marshall Beria can organise the SS solution with you.”
Nazarbayeva departed the room, the faintest trace of her limp apparent.
When the door closed behind her, Stalin chuckled openly.
“A formidable woman. Would that all Russian women had balls like that, eh Lavrentiy?”
Beria ignored the obvious retort.
“She is confident and efficient for sure, Comrade General Secretary. What say you, Comrade Zhukov?”
The bald Marshall ripped his eyes away from the closed doors, extinguishing the vision of the departing GRU officer.
“Would that all Russian soldiers had balls like her, Comrade Beria.”
Zhukov exited the room and found Nazarbayeva scribbling out a copy of the Leopard report from memory.
She sprang to her feet as he approached.
“Relax, Comrade. Thank you for your input, but do watch Marshall Beria. You have an enemy there.”
Tatiana went to reply but remained silent, the doors opening in her peripheral vision as Beria came in search of her.
Zhukov extracted a notebook and quickly penned a message. Folding the paper, he held it out to the GRU officer as Beria hung back, waiting for the Marshall to move on.
“My vehicles will leave in thirty-five minutes time. Just in case you are not with us, I would welcome your briefings in my headquarters on a regular basis, if General Pekunin can spare you, Comrade. Please give him this note.”
The paper changed hands and Zhukov nodded his goodbye to Nazarbayeva, who saluted smartly.
As the military man withdrew, so the NKVD chief drew near.
“Comrade PodPolkovnik. I need you to get a message to your agent as soon as possible. I believe we can exert some pressure on our man.”
A notebook appeared, and a second message was pressed into Nazarbayeva’s hand.
“Simple enough, Comrade?”
She read the message.
“Yes, Comrade Marshall. I will inform Comrade Polkovnik General Pekunin, with my explanation and endorsement, and I am sure he will have it sent straight away.”
“With your fucking endorsement? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Tatiana meant nothing more than she would support the concept and relay events from the meeting, but Beria heard what he wanted and interpreted it in the same jaundiced way.
He counter-attacked.
“Good. I was sorry to hear of the death of your son.”
The change in tack threw the woman, a fact not wasted on Beria.
“Thank you, Comrade Marshall. He was a soldier and took a soldier’s risks.”
“True, true. But we should look after our sons and husbands, and do all we can to keep them safe from harm.”
‘Sympathy from Beria?’ she thought, ‘Out of character.’
“All we can, Comrade Nazarbayeva. You still have three sons and a husband in service to the Motherland. They should be kept safe.”
“That is beyond me, Comrade Marshall. I can but hope that victory will come, and they will be delivered home to me alive.”
“Nothing is beyond anyone prepared to sacrifice themselves for others.”
A chill went through Nazarbayeva as she realised that the NKVD boss was examining her form, very deliberately studying her breasts through the tunic, his mind obviously on matters other than Agent Leopard.
“I will ensure the agent gets this message, Comrade Marshall.”
Her hasty salute and departure broke Beria’s train of thought, but not enough for him to stop imagining himself exploding hard inside the bitch and inflicting pleasurable pain upon her body.
“Sometime soon, Comrade Tatiana. You will know what happens to those who cross me.”
Nazarbayeva presented herself in front of General Pekunin and handed him the notes from Beria and Zhukov.
The journey back by car to Ostafievo had been relatively quiet, Zhukov studying a new report on the military situation.
Once on board the aircraft, the two had talked for a while, until Zhukov called a halt and decided to get some much needed sleep.
Nazarbayeva did not inform him of what had transpired after he had left her with Beria.
Pekunin’s chuckle roused her from her thoughts as she stood in front of his desk.
Placing the document from Zhukov on the table, the GRU commander returned to the dilemma posed by his Chinese puzzle box.
“So it appears that you have made a good impression on Marshall Zhukov, Tatiana. Do you know what this note says?”