Juli was silent, realizing Nina’s last statement referred to her affair with Mihaly. Finally, Juli took another deep breath and spoke.
“I want you to understand how Mihaly and I became involved, Nina. I’m not seeking forgiveness, but I want you to know. My father, the only person I was ever close to, died the previous winter.
I was quite alone when Mihaly came along. It wasn’t his fault. I…
I needed someone then. It’s my fault. Please…”
Silence except for one of the children sighing deeply in sleep.
One of Mihaly’s little girls dreaming of her father and mother and happier times. Juli continued.
“I’m not seeking forgiveness.”
“I hear you,” said Nina, her voice less composed. “But what else can you do with Mihaly gone and all of us down here together in a hole that may end up being our grave?”
Another long silence, the only sounds the fidgeting of the children at the back of the cellar. Finally Nina spoke.
“Enough about forgiveness and what happened between you and Mihaly. We’ve got the children to consider. Earlier you said you could help. What can you do? There are men with machine guns up there.”
“I know,” said Juli. “I saw them. But there’s got to be a way. If we knew what was going on up there…”
“Perhaps…” whispered Mariska. “Perhaps we can spy out the trapdoor without them seeing us.”
“It’s possible,” said Juli. “When I came inside, I saw a small crack where the door doesn’t quite close all the way. I know we couldn’t see much now. But soon it will be light. Maybe we’ll be able to see something during the day to help us decide what to do.”
Nina and Mariska and Juli agreed. For now it was the only thing they could do.
They took turns standing on the ladder peering through the small crack at the entrance. The two not at the entrance tried to keep the children warm and quiet.
The hour or so until dawn passed slowly. The crack at the entrance faced the house but was too low to the ground to allow them to see windows beyond the weeds. Only the dark roof of the house and the shadows of trees in the yard were visible. Eventually, when it was Juli’s turn on the ladder, the gray of dawn began. It was then that Juli saw a movement against the gray sky. At first she was not certain what it could be, perhaps clouds. But then, after studying the movement, and as the dawn grew brighter, she realized she was looking at the legs of a man, a man standing very close to the entrance to the cellar. As it grew lighter, she could also see, to the side of the man’s legs, the barrel of a machine gun.
From below, Nina touched Juli’s ankle gently to let her know it was time to trade positions on the ladder.
Before dawn, a man was sent to relieve Nikolai. Nikolai sat in one of the Volgas with the engine running and the heater blowing warm air over his face.
Two hours earlier he had opened the front door to the house and was confronted by a scene he would never forget. Bela Sandor and Lazlo Horvath were tied to chairs in the middle of the room beneath the overhead light. Their faces were covered with welts, their eyes were swollen, their shirts were ripped open, and burn marks were on their necks and chests. Both men looked to the door when he opened it and, with their eyes, pleaded with him for help.
The other part of the scene Nikolai would never forget was Captain Brovko at the door about to come out while Major Komarov aimed his pistol at Brovko’s back. The look on Komarov’s face was alarming. Time stopped. The men in the chairs stared with pleading eyes. Komarov aimed his pistol at Brovko. Then time resumed and Komarov emptied his pistol into the floor. After this incident Brovko went back inside and closed the door.
The shots attracted the attention of the rest of the men. While Nikolai was on duty at the front door, several held a lengthy conference near the parked Volgas. One of the men approached Nikolai and asked what he had seen in the house. While considering his answer, Nikolai thought of many things. He thought of the look on Komarov’s face. He thought of Pavel smiling up at him while blood gushed from his temple. He thought of Pavel’s wife at the funeral. Finally Nikolai told the other men that if he hadn’t opened the door when he did, he was certain Komarov would have shot Captain Brovko in the back.
Now, as Nikolai sat in the Volga watching the morning sky brighten, he wondered if he should go into the house and tell Captain Brovko what the other men, gathering in small groups before dawn, already knew.
Whenever he moved, Lazlo’s face felt as if it had expanded, creating more nerves to send messages of pain to his brain. Although he had lost track of time, he felt at least an hour had gone by since Komarov had stopped his beatings. The last thing Komarov had done was to blow cigarette smoke into their faces.
It was quiet in the room, so quiet he could hear Bela’s deep breaths. He hoped Bela would not begin snoring and rouse Komarov, who had apparently settled in the daybed behind them. Earlier, the man he now knew as Captain Brovko had given both him and Bela a drink of water. Now Brovko sat at the kitchen table. The phonograph was off the table and back in the cabinet. When Komarov finished beating them and placed Lazlo’s pistol on the table, Brovko had picked it up and tucked it into his belt. Now Brovko sat with his elbows on the table, staring out the window at the new dawn.
Last night, during Komarov’s beatings, there had been increasing evidence Brovko did not approve. Brovko attempted several approaches to convince Komarov they should return to Kiev with their prisoners. Each time, Komarov refused, insisting Lazlo knew where Juli Popovics was and Bela knew where the women and children were. After the incident in which Komarov shot Lazlo’s pistol into the floor, Brovko was especially watchful, never leaving them alone in the house with Komarov.
Lazlo recalled the man who opened the door. It was the same man he had sent back to Kiev in his Zhiguli after shooting his partner in Visenka. The man who had wept as his partner lay bleeding in his lap. He had heard Brovko call the man Nikolai. And now he recalled the partner’s name because it had been repeated over and over.
“Pavel! Don’t die, Pavel!”
Again, the question. Why would Komarov send an untrained agent on a dangerous mission? Were there more untrained agents outside? The man he had hit over the head had been young. Were they all fresh recruits primed to kill or be killed?
Lazlo opened his eyes wider and, although it was painful, moved his head slowly from side to side. He tried to get Brovko’s attention without speaking out loud, but Brovko continued staring out the window.
As the sun rose, its brightness through the windows overpowered the overhead light. When Brovko stretched and yawned, Lazlo stared at him, motioned with his head, and finally stuck out his swollen tongue and wagged it at Brovko.
Brovko stood and came to Lazlo. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I was trying to get your attention,” whispered Lazlo.
“Why?”
“I thought you might want to hear another Hungarian song. I can sing one for you.”
Brovko smiled. “You have a sense of humor.” Then Brovko looked over Lazlo’s shoulder and frowned. “However, I wouldn’t try any jokes on the major.”
“I know. My cousin and I didn’t laugh all night. Apparently he’s sleeping?”
“Your cousin?”
“Komarov.”
“He appears to be sleeping.”
“Then I’d like to ask you something.”
“What?”
“I’d like to ask the same question you did. Why does he want the women and children?”
Brovko stared at Lazlo for a moment. Then he went to the sink and came back with a glass of water. He held the water to Lazlo’s lips.
The rooster had crowed, the sun was up, and budding trees surrounding the house were capped in orange. Nikolai reached out and switched off the Volga’s engine. He lowered the window slightly and listened to the birds. It was a fine spring morning, and Nikolai relished the moment of peace until, in the distance, he heard the sound of an engine laboring up the hill.