Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(52)

"I don't know," Alexander said calmly. "I'm not a doctor. But maybe you should get one. The comrade may have had a heart attack."

The guard didn't know whether to run, to stay, to leave Alexander, to take him along. He didn't know whether to lock the door or to leave it open. The confusion was so apparent on his frightened and pale face that Alexander, smiling kindly, said, "Leave him here, and take me with you. Don't bother locking the cell. He is not going anywhere."

The guard took Alexander and they both ran up the stairs, through the school, outside, and to the commandant's building. "I don't even know who I should speak to," the guard said helplessly.

"Let's go and talk to Colonel Stepanov. He'll know what to do."

To say that Stepanov was surprised to see Alexander would have been an understatement. The guard by this time was in such a panic he was not able to speak. He mumbled something about Slonko and no noise and just doing his job, just standing right by the door, hearing nothing. Stepanov asked him several times to calm down, but the guard was unable to follow simple orders. Finally, Stepanov had to offer the boy a drink of vodka, and turned to Alexander with a perplexed face.

"Sir," said Alexander, "Comrade Slonko collapsed while he was in my cell. The guard was obviously away for a few moments"--Alexander paused--"perhaps attending to some private business. He is afraid it will seem that he was derelict in his duty. Yet, I know firsthand he is a diligent and dedicated guard. There was nothing he could have done for the comrade."

"Oh, my God, Alexander," said Stepanov, getting up and quickly getting dressed. "Are you telling me Slonko is dead?"

"Sir, I don't know. I'm not a doctor. I would recommend finding one, though. Probably soon."

They procured a medic who came to the cell, shuddered once, and without even listening for Slonko's pulse pronounced the man dead. The cell had a filthy stench it had not had before. Everyone held their breath as they filed out.

"Oh, Alexander," said Stepanov.

"Yes, sir," said Alexander, "I seem to have bad f*cking luck."

No one had any idea what to do with Slonko. He had come to Alexander's cell at two in the morning. Everyone else was soundly asleep. There was nowhere to put Alexander, who offered to sleep in Stepanov's anteroom with the guard by his side. Stepanov agreed. "Thank you, sir," said Alexander, lying down on the floor and putting his head down. Stepanov glanced at the trembling guard in the corner, Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

and then back at Alexander. "What the hell is going on, Major?" he whispered, crouching by him.

"You tell me, Colonel," said Alexander. "What did Slonko want with me? He kept telling me they've brought Tatiana back from Helsinki, that she's confessed. What was he talking about?"

"They're beside themselves," Stepanov said. "They tried to find her, but she is nowhere. People don't just disappear in the Soviet Union--"

"Actually, sir--"

"Not without a trace."

"Actually, sir--"

"Alexander, stop being impossible."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm telling you that once the Grechesky hospital told the NKGB--"

"The what?

"Oh, they haven't informed you? NKVD is gone. Now it's the NKGB. The People's Kommitet on Government Security. Same agency, different name. First name change since 1934." Stepanov shrugged. "Anyway. Once the NKGB was informed that Sayers and Metanova had not made it to the Leningrad hospital, they got very suspicious. They have a turned-over truck, they have four dead Soviet troops and a handful of Finnish ones, no first aid kit in the truck, and in fact, the Red Cross symbol had been torn out of the cabin's canvas. No one can explain it. There is no trace of either the doctor or his nurse. Yet six border stations along the way say they checked through a doctor and his nurse returning to Helsinki with a wounded Finnish pilot in a prisoner exchange. They cannot remember the nurse's name, but they swear it was American. Well, we have the wounded Finnish pilot. He is neither Finnish, nor a pilot, and wounded is a euphemism for what he is. He is your friend Dimitri and he is ripped full of holes. That's the situation on the ground. He's dead, and the doctor and the nurse have vanished into thin air. So Mitterand called the Helsinki Red Cross hospital and found a doctor who doesn't speak any Russian. It took the bumbling idiots"--Stepanov was barely whispering at this point--"it took them a whole day to find someone to talk to the doctor in English." Stepanov smiled. "I was going to suggest you."

Alexander stayed impassive.

"Anyway, they finally got someone from Volkhov to speak to the doctor in English. From what I can understand, Matthew Sayers has died."

"So that much was true." Alexander sighed. "They all have such a way of mixing their lies with just enough truth that you go mad trying to uncover what's real and what isn't."

"Yes, Sayers died in Helsinki. Blood poisoning from his wounds. As for the nurse with him, the doctor said that she had gone and he hadn't seen her for two days. He assumed she was no longer in Finland."

Alexander stared at Stepanov with sadness and relief. For a sick moment he actually felt regret that they hadn't brought Tatiana back; he thought maybe he could lay his eyes on her one last time. But finally something real bobbed to the surface. "Thank you, sir," Alexander whispered. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html