At that point, the second gun had come up abreast of the first and begun its dance, just slightly behind in time.
Turgenev heard Federov shout, “Follow me.” At that point, the gun crew trotted off, hauling gun and ammunition by main force, until the view of them was lost to the intervening tentage. The drill was fast enough that the second gun crew began trotting off about the time the first crew disappeared.
“Getting there,” said Mokrenko, “aren’t they?”
“Yes,” said Turgenev, “but for them as for us, time is a limited resource. Let’s go… and about that substitution code; are businesses that unsophisticated? A mere substitution code when actual, by God, money is on the line.”
“I confess, I don’t know,” Mokrenko replied.
“No clue,” added Goat.
“Let’s presume they’re not,” said Turgenev. “What else might be available to us?”
“Books,” said Goat, who was no dummy.
“Books?”
“Sure, sir; we get two copies of the same book, two exact copies. Any word we want is going to be found by a combination of a page number, a line number, and a word on the line number. Inefficient? I’m sure. But probably pretty secure.”
“What book?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe War and Peace?” Goat offered.
Mokrenko shook his head. “Sure has enough words… but we’re Russian, for God’s sake. Maybe some book less obvious? Something that isn’t by Tolstoy or Dostoevsky?”
“Lermontov?” suggested the lieutenant.
Goat offered, “Or maybe Chernychevsky?”
“Maybe better, because more obscure,” Turgenev said.
“You know,” said Mokrenko, “We might be well advised to find a telegraph station away from wherever we may find the royal family, and as far from their guards as possible.”
“Point,” agreed Turgenev.
“May not be possible,” said Corporal Koslov. “And there’s no train station or even a near passing line in Tobolsk, if they’re still there.”
“There will be a telegraph station in Tobolsk,” Turgenev said. “They’d never have brought the royal family there without a way to give the order to kill them in a hurry.”
“Also, ‘point,’” conceded Goat. “But if so, sir, there’s still not going to be another station in easy distance. What? Tyumen? Could we even get back to Tyumen in time to give the word.”
“No,” Turgenev said. “Well… six days? Maybe we could.”
“I wonder if we could get a man attached to us who knows telegraphy and a portable set for him that we could to tap into the wires?”
“Army math,” Turgenev reminded. “If you must have one of something to end with you must start with more than one.”
“Maybe so,” Mokrenko said, “but, under the circumstances, we’ll be lucky to get even one.”
Those words brought them to the mess where the lieutenant said, “No more talking until we’ve got our food and are on our way.”
“A minute and thirty-two seconds,” announced Federov to both gun crews, together, seated in a semi-circle on the ground between the pair of cannon. “A minute and thirty-two seconds from me designating a stopping point to both guns, side by side, ready to fire. You know, that’s not bad. I think maybe we’re ready for the real ammunition.”
“We’re ready, sir,” said the Feldfebel, “but the range is not. What we can do, though, is put the guns up, draw our rifles, and go knock off the requirement to qualify on the M1891s. That would be a good use of our time.”
Federov considered that for perhaps as much as three seconds, then said, “Let me know, Feldfebel, when everything is secured and we’re ready to march to the range.”
Machine gun and cannon range (Under Construction)
The men building the range were still eating when Kostyshakov suddenly appeared on the dirt road.
Both First and Third were commanded by senior lieutenants, Boris Baluyev for First and Georgy Lesh for Third. They ran up and reported to Kostyshakov as soon as they spied him.
Lesh spoke first. “Any word on the pioneer tools, sir? This would go so much faster if we had them. And we’ve still got to do the deep digging for the building clearing.”
“We need more lumber, too, sir,” added Baluyev, blowing aside facial hair as he spoke. “Trying to do this with entrenching tools is, well…” Baluyev took off his mittens to show blistered, bleeding hands. “See, sir? And the men? They’re in worse shape than we are. We’ve got to get those pioneer tools.”
“I know. Romeyko’s at wit’s end. The Germans are trying but nobody seems to have anything to spare. What they had to spare seems to have gone west with the divisions being shifted to face the French and British and, now, the Americans.”
Lesh scowled. “Hell, sir, we could make our own wooden handles if they’d just get us the metal parts!”
“Yes, sure. But we don’t have those either. Now quit complaining and show me what you have managed to do here.”
“Georgy has something special to show you, sir,” said Baluyev. “While he’s setting that up, I can walk you around.”
“Fine;” said Daniil, “go get your demonstration set up, Lesh.”
“Yes, sir.” With a hasty salute, Lesh trotted off.
Baluyev led Daniil to the firing line. The first thing Kostyshakov noticed was a set of large screens, at either end.
“What are those for?” he asked.
“The infantry guns, sir. Their tactics involve leaving their ammunition wagon, along with the mule or horse if they have one, in safe defilade. They manhandle the guns forward. But we don’t have anywhere with a suitable hill, nor any particularly good means of raising a hill. So we put these up to give a simulation of defilade. It’s not perfect because the guns can’t go over them but have to go around. But then, they’re supposed to go around.
“The heavy machine guns will do something similar. And we have two so both can be on the range at one time, or, when we don’t need both, either one has a choice of where to go. Or they can split sections.”
“Good thinking in general, though I’ll ask the Germans if there’s a place we can use that has actual hills or ridges, too.”
“I think Lieutenant Federov would appreciate that, sir.
“Now between the two screens, we’ve put in spots for five Lewis guns at a time.” Baluyev pointed down range, saying, “Note here, sir, that we haven’t put in anything for the Lewis guns to shoot at that’s closer than seven hundred and fifty arshin. For that they may as well use the rifle range, no?”
Kostyshakov considered that, then gestured a general agreement.
“What are you using for targets here?”
“You can’t generally see them, sir, because they’re camouflaged, but we have forty-five deep pits we’re digging. Men sheltering in those will raise targets on whistle command. Scoring, since those will be machine guns being scored, will be from the firing point rather than the target. That’s for the Lewis guns and the Maxims when shooting targets at range. We’re also building frames to put basic machine gun targets on, but I’m having trouble figuring out what to do about our traversing and elevating mechanisms, and our usual targets being in Russian, and the only ones available, the Germans’ targets, being in metric.”
“If you had heavy duty paper and paint or ink,” Kostyshakov asked, “oh, and rulers, I suppose, could you make our kind of targets from scratch?”
“Probably, sir, though we’d have to test them with our guns, too, to make sure they’re right.”