“I’ll avoid the man, Comrade General Secretary. I hope your birthday is enjoyable, Sir?”
Stalin snorted, aware that a group including the ambassador from Yugoslavia was approaching with intent.
His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he leant in towards Tatiana’s ear.
“I’d rather have a straightforward affair, but the requirements of the Rodina override my own simple peasant wishes, Comrade Nazarbayeva. Now, I must do my duty.”
Stalin accepted the hand of the Yugoslavian, and both men retreated to a corner by the fireplace to discuss Tito’s position on the present de facto cease-fire across Europe.
A strange pang filled her stomach, almost as if something was about to rebel against the food and drink she had recently consumed.
Her system seemed dulled, slowed, almost disconnected, and growing worse by the minute.
Miron Vovsi, Stalin’s personal physician, noticed something about her from across the room, and made his way over.
“Comrade Nazarbayeva, are you unwell?”
“I think I’m unused to this fine wine and rich food, Comrade Doctor. It will pass.”
“Excuse me please,” the Doctor’s hands taking first her wrist and, satisfied with her pulse, pressed his hand to her forehead.
“I think that you have a fever developing. Comrade.”
Given the illness that had incapacitated her earlier in the year, such a statement was bound to get Nazarbayeva’s full attention; as had been the plan.
“Might I suggest that you have an early night tonight and rest for a day?”
Normally, she would have refused the advice on the spot, but now she felt she could only agree.
The stealthy, but purposeful approach of the Bulgarian Ambassador, clinched the decision.
“Could I ask you to accompany me to the car please, Comrade Doctor?”
“Of course, of course.”
Offering up his arm, he assisted the GRU General towards the exit, his eyes holding those of Beria for only the briefest of moments.
The NKVD Marshal smiled and determined to spend his next thirty minutes attending to business before he left the party to attend to ‘business’.
Savouring the pepper vodka and ice, he started counting down the minutes until his revenge was complete.
The KIM 10-52 car, used to move dignitaries around the Kuntsevo complex, pulled up at the NKVD guest dacha, not that Nazarbayeva had any idea that was what the building was.
Dr Vovsi leapt out and moved round to open the other passenger door, before assisting Nazarbayeva out.
An orderly appeared, but Tatiana declined his offer of assistance, preferring to steady herself on the shoulder of her fellow passenger.
“Make sure the car waits, orderly.”
The orderly moved to do as he was asked, and Vovsi helped Nazarbayeva inside.
She made her way to the comfortable armchair and collapsed into it.
Again, Vovsi examined her pulse, temperature and produced a stethoscope, which he warmed before listening to her inner sounds.
“You need a day of bed rest, Comrade General, no arguments.”
He moved to his medical bag and rummaged, quickly finding the required item.
“Your temperature’s raised and your pulse is up on earlier. Breathing seems fine. I want you to go to bed now. Take this…” he passed her a phial of orange liquid, “Mixed in with water, but only once you’re under the covers.”
She looked at the phial and asked a silent question.
“It’s a sedative, but also has powers that will address your fever. You’ll sleep like a fallen tree. Take it before you’re in bed and you risk a night lying on the carpet, Comrade General.”
He slipped his stethoscope back into the bag and closed it with a snap.
“I will return at,” he checked his watch, “Eleven in the morning to check on your condition. If you need me before then, just tell the orderly and he can contact me.”
“Thank you, Comrade Doctor.”
“The pleasure is mine, Comrade General. Now, to bed with you… and have a good night.”
The orderly moved to open the front door.
“Thank you, but I can see myself out, Comrade Serzhant.”
Nazarbayeva moved unsteadily towards the bedroom, her mind not working as she would expect.
The orderly brushed past her to open the door.
“Thank you, Comrade.”
Once she was inside, he turned up the slumbering oil lamps and turned down the heavy bedding.
“So many lamps, Comrade Orderly?”
“Some of our guest like enough light to make the room as day, Comrade General.”
A fair reply, she thought.
“Please turn them all back down, Comrade. I need my bed.”
“As you wish, Comrade General.”
Each of the lamps was reduced to next to nothing, providing sufficient light for undressing.
‘I’ll turn them up later, you GRU whore!’
The orderly came to attention.
“If there’s nothing else, Sir?”
“No, thank you.”
“The Comrade General can reach me by pressing the button on the bedside table, should she require any service.”
She missed the edge completely.
“Again, thank you, Comrade Orderly.”
NKVD Serzhant Ruslan Spartakevich Stranov nodded and closed the door, before proceeding to the telephone and reporting in as ordered.
Sarkisov replaced the receiver and checked his watch.
“The Boss’ll be ready by now. Warm up the car and we can get the fun started.”
Nadaraia looked sternly at his colleague.
“You start the fucking car. I’m senior Polkovnik remember!”
The battle over seniority was permanent and would never be resolved, but it had never really mattered, and was always done in humour.
Sarkisov conceded.
“Well, I suppose it’s my turn anyway.”
The Packard car was warm and inviting.
Lavrentiy Beria dropped onto the wide back seat and tackled his Colonels immediately.
“Report.”
Sarkisov passed on all that he had gleaned from Stranov, Nadaraia added the facts he had been given by Doctor Vovsi.
“Excellent. Let’s pay her a visit then. No need to rush though.”
Beria wanted to savour the build-up for as long as possible.
Switching off the engine, NKVD Colonel Sarkisov extracted the bag from the glove box. Nadaraia got out and opened Beria’s door.
The three quickly made their way inside.
Stranov took all three men’s coats and then offered up the drinks that he had already prepared.
Still holding the paper bag, Sarkisov passed on his instructions from Dr Vovsi, who had been very keen that they should be understood by all.
“Comrade Marshal. Vovsi has one more dose in here, to be administered by syringe. He suggests between the toes, so as to mask the entry site.”
Beria listened patiently, although both Colonels knew that it would fall to one of them to do the deed.
“2330hrs and no sooner. He suggests concluding our business by 0220 at the latest. The residual effects will last through until morning, but only if the patient is left undisturbed, Comrade Marshal.”
“The effects will be as described. She may have some feeling of the experience, but will have no control and will not be conscious. None the less, he still advises taking the precautions you both discussed, to be on the safe side.”
Beria laughed, a throaty genuine laugh, taking all three NKVD men by surprise.
“The bitch won’t see my face unless she’s eyes in the back of her fucking head!”