Finally, he also admitted to being the leader of the kidnapping mission. But as soon as the interpreter started asking questions about things over on the Russian side, the man fell silent, saying only that he had been sent on this mission and knew nothing whatsoever of his own side’s state of affairs. Of his own squad he offered more information. The man whom Rokka had killed with the back of the pistol had been an NCO specially trained for the task. He was the one who was supposed to capture the prisoner. The failure, the Captain explained, resulted from the fact that Rokka had heard them coming and so had managed to turn around.
‘Lissen, that ain’t why it failed. You tell ’im straight out it was ’cause Antti Rokka here happen’na be standin’ guard. But you tell ’im they did one hell of a job plannin’ that trick. You tell ’im I know their whole plan. They been spendin’ lots a nights watchin’ how our patrol squad comes ’n’ goes, plottin’ their whole operation off a that. First they set the cannons goin’ so the guards would take cover. And meanwhile the fellas crawl along through the reeds… He’s still wet from it too. Then they thought, the guard’ll think it’ssa patrol squad comin’. That’s what I thought, anyway. I’d thought about takin’ that same route myself, cuttin’ through the reeds over to their side. That’s why I thought it might be them. You remember, Koskela, how I said we oughdda put more guard posts along the shore? You’re a right sensible fella, that’s for sure. I’m gonna make you a cuppa tea. Then in’na mornin’ when there ain’t nobody sleepin’ no more, I’m gonna play you “Yokkantee”. Then you and me’s gonna head over to the command post together. Fellas’ll git’ta do their official inquiry on us both!’
Rokka was happy as a clam. He hummed along as he boiled his water for tea, and, drinking it with his prisoner, chatted on about the merits of the world, none of which his companion understood in the least. Then Rokka ordered his prisoner into the bunk to sleep. The man went to the bunk, but he didn’t sleep. Rokka, on the other hand, dropped off as before – instantly, without so much as rolling over onto his side. The guy on fire-watch kept an eye on the prisoner, and all the weapons were removed from his reach. They were perfectly aware that he was not the type of man to let even the slightest opportunity pass him by.
III
Rokka awoke the next morning in splendid spirits, though his prisoner’s mood was even more dour. He drank the tea Rokka gave him, but the playing of ‘Yokkantee’ he endured only because he had ears through which he had to. Rokka, on the other hand, threw in a couple of spins as he danced along, at which even Baranov’s scowling eyes betrayed the tiniest trace of a smile.
‘Lissen now, you cheer up, hear! We’ll head off to prison together. We won’t have no worries there. We’ll make lamp-stands. I’ll teach you how. You might’ta tried’da knock me down with the butt a your submachine gun, but you got a boot in’na face for it too.’
Rokka had been ordered to appear at the command post at nine o’clock, and a few minutes before nine he turned up with his prisoner in tow. Lammio was there, as well as some ensign who had been given the task of taking the minutes. Rokka’s case was so important that Sarastie himself had chosen to attend the interrogation.
Sarastie’s bunker was rather modest, as he didn’t share the front-line architectural aspirations of the other officers. Rokka stepped inside, bringing Baranov with him, and in place of the standard military greeting, declared with a natural chipperness, ‘Mornin’! Here I am! Koskela mentioned somethin’ about me bein’ called over here.’
The officers’ moods underwent a small revolution. They had just been engaged in a stone-faced, ‘scientific’ discussion about the importance of discipline at the current time, as morale was sinking very low. And into this general atmosphere now popped the much-discussed problem child, with his ‘Mornin’!’ greetings and – on top of that – a prisoner, about whom they had received no information whatsoever.
‘Whaa— Who is this?’
‘This fella here? Why, he’s the Baranov boy!’
Sarastie was quick enough to realize that Rokka was up to something, but suspected it would be revealed to him soon enough. The Major couldn’t help laughing as he gazed at Rokka. The latter stole a glance at the officers as if weighing the impact of his entrance. Otherwise he was entirely nonchalant, as if there was nothing exceptional in the least about the situation.
‘The Baranov boy,’ Sarastie repeated. ‘May I ask why you brought him here?’
‘I took ’im prisoner last night, then I thought that if we were doin’ this here inquiry, we might git his over with at the same time. I heard you might be threatenin’ me with some kinda prison sentence, so I thought maybe the two of us here could go together. Two birds with one stone like.’
The prisoner was so important that the officers paid no attention to Rokka’s jibe and just asked how the prisoner had been taken.
‘Fellas came to take me off to Russia! But I told ’em that it wasn’t gonna work that way, on accoun’ta I gotta go to this court martial, see. Three of ’em died in the scuffle, but I held onto this fella here. Good lookin’ guy like he is. I done spoiled ’im a little with that kick in the jaw, but he’ll git over that all right. Baranov here’s a big fish. He’s a cap’n.’
Sarastie was increasingly interested. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Sotti questioned him over in’na bunker already. He’s from Salmi, see, so he knows Russian. Oh, he’s a cap’n all right. He was chief a the commando.’
Rokka explained the incident in greater detail, and Sarastie phoned Koskela. Putting down the receiver, he looked at Rokka for a moment, considering him carefully, and then asked with a smile, ‘What kind of man are you, anyway?’
‘Who, me? Don’t you know me? I’m Antti Rokka. Farmer from Kannas. These days, poster boy for Tikkakoski Tommy Guns.’
The ensign assigned to take the minutes endeavored to keep a straight face, as he didn’t dare laugh before a major, but seeing that Sarastie himself had lost it, the Ensign burst into laughter as well. Only the two captains, Lammio and Baranov, remained straight-faced. Rokka himself was quite earnest, though slyly, vigilantly keeping tabs on the situation. He had evidently decided to relish the ordeal as much as possible, hopefully getting out of the threat of the court martial without being humiliated, and maybe even doing some humiliating himself.
‘How did you manage this? Really.’
‘I shot, hit, head-butted and kicked, that’s how. They were some tough fellas, lemme tell you. I almost didn’t make it to this here inquiry for the court martial.’
Sarastie turned to the Ensign. ‘Take the prisoner out and send for the interpreter. That man is valuable. We’ve been after him a long time.’
The Ensign and Baranov left. Rokka called after them, ‘I don’t think you’re gonna git much outta that fella. He’s tough as nails. I sure seen that all right. Good thing I heard those fellas comin’! Who knows what might’ta happened with this here court martial if I hadn’t? That’s the way it is with these things in wartime, see, just dunno what’s gonna come at you one hour later. Everythin’s always gittin’ mixed up with the regulations and such. Downright irritatin’, ain’t it? But whadda you gonna do?’ Rokka lifted his hands and shrugged his shoulders, as if to lament the whole state of affairs.