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“Comrades, I have found no evidence of any treachery on the part of Comrade Leytenant General Kochetov.”

“He tried to shoot you, woman! What more evidence do you need, eh?”

Suppressing Beria with an icy look, Stalin turned, his visage becoming instantly warmer, encouraging the GRU officer.

“Carry on, Comrade General, carry on… tell us what you have discovered.”

“Comrade General Secretary, I have discovered nothing, absolutely nothing at all, that would lead me to even suspect that Comrade Kochetov had any involvement in any of Pekunin’s apparent betrayal.”

She could not go the full hog and denounce her mentor, but Tatiana certainly intended that the innocent Kochetov’s family should not suffer.

“Then we shall take you at your word, Comrade General. There will be no further action against the Kochetov family. Proceed please, Comrade.”

Stalin was clever at using words when he needed to be, drawing a smile from Beria.

Unbeknown to Nazarbayeva, three generations of Kochetovs had already perished at the vengeful hands of the NKVD. No further action was available, unless they could be pursued into the afterlife.

“I have examined some of the exchanges between Comrade Pekunin and his agents. Particularly, I found some irregularities in his dealings with Agent Leopard, the operative who supplied information regarding the French SS units, information that, in the light of events, now seems somewhat suspect.”

Beria had no idea of this issue and remained silent, concentrating on every word.

“I came across information that led me to believe that Comrade Pekunin clandestinely met with Agent Leopard on 22nd October in Böblingen, Germany. I also know that Marshal Rokossovsky was present at that meeting.”

Both senior men leant forward, somehow resembling vultures preparing to feast on a corpse.

“The Marshal was very open about that meeting. He informed me that the agent had delivered information on the enemy dispositions, information that encouraged the advance into Alsace and subsequently brought about the destruction of at least one of our armies in that region. That information was wholly vouched for by Polkovnik General Pekunin.”

Both vultures could see a clear image of the corpse of Rokossovsky at their feet.

“Comrade General Secretary, if you will permit me, I will state quite categorically that Marshal Rokossovsky had and has no part in any matter that is contrary to the interests of the State.”

The image melted away.

“Noted, Comrade Nazarbayeva. Continue.”

“My understanding of Agent Leopard is that he’s in the guise of a Polish Army Major, attached to the French Army as a liaison officer and…”

A violent cough stopped her in mid-flow, causing Stalin to make a simple gesture, directing his henchman towards a carafe of water on a tasteful gilded table near the door.

Unhappy at being a serving boy, Beria performed the act of providing Nazarbayeva with a drink with as little grace as he could get away with.

“Sorry. Agent Leopard was used to control the enemy senior officer Knocke. You will remember that we held his wife as a hostage, and that she apparently died in circumstances that were possibly dubious.”

Beria had more direct knowledge than Stalin did, but this was the first time that he had heard of any doubts about the Primorsk matter.

Nazarbayeva surged forward.

“GRU and NKVD investigations apparently revealed that an errant SS unit had attacked the NKVD troops in Primorsk, during which attack the Knocke family were killed…”

“Apparently, Comrade?”

“Comrade Marshal, I raised my concerns at the time. I felt it far-fetched that an SS unit would have remained silent for so long, and would have selected such a target as its first action.”

Clearing her throat, she took the opportunity to drink a little more water.

“Comrade Pekunin did not agree with me, so the report was ratified and accepted, despite my views on that and other issues.”

“It’s a hasty man that doesn’t listen to your words, Comrade Nazarbayeva,” Stalin chuckled his way through the statement, ignoring Beria’s demonstrable surprise at the unexpected and, in the circumstance, decidedly out of character humour.

“Thank you, Comrade General Secretary. I must say that I’ve kept an eye on the region, and there have been no further attacks attributed to a roving group of SS soldiers.”

“Nothing?”

“Yes, Comrade Marshal, there have been attacks, but they are all verified as being opportunist elements seeking rations, or ex-military groups trying to disrupt our forces. Nothing at all SS.”

“I understand your suspicions, Comrade Nazarbayeva. Is there more?”

“Comrade General Secretary, I have always had concerns over the identification of the bodies of Knocke’s family. They were all burnt, a fate that befell few of the occupants of Primorsk, and something that was very convenient in making identification difficult. According to the GRU report, the bodies of the two girls were found together in their house, which, circumstantially, was seen as sufficient proof of identity for the investigators.”

Another sip of water relieved the growing dryness.

“The wife’s body was exhumed and identified by jewellery found on the corpse. Such items are easily placed on a body. In short, I find the evidence unsatisfactory and, looking at the actions of the legion units that were supposed to be controlled by Knocke’s blackmail, there seems little evidence of any positive influence exercised by our agent at all, Comrade General Secretary.”

She drained the rest of the glass.

“Comrade General Secretary, my investigations continue, but I have yet to find conclusive evidence that Comrade Pekunin acted in betrayal of the state, although there is some doubt over the effectiveness of some of his agents. Certainly, I find myself questioning some of the decision making, but that may just be hindsight.”

Stalin’s affability and tolerance seemed to disappear in one noticeable breath and he, very deliberately to both watchers, extracted another cigarette and went through the motions of tapping it down and lighting it before speaking.

“Comrade General. Your investigations must continue. Your efforts to keep secret these matters is noted… and the State thanks you.”

Beria seemed to want to say something, but lost his chance.

“Two of your sons are dead, and that is a personal tragedy. There is nothing I can do to change that. Both have died for the Rodina, and the Party, one as a soldier hero, the other in a way that is wholly regrettable… but it was necessary, Comrade.”

Stalin stood and pulled his tunic into place, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, reflecting his peasant roots.

“Comrade Nazarbayeva, I wish I had a thousand like you, soldiers who do their duty without question and without fear for their own position. Continue your investigation, and send me your final written report when it’s complete. Dismissed.”

Chapter 114 – THE FRIDAY

Remember that upon the conduct of each depends the fate of all.

Alexander the Great
0055 hrs, Friday 6th December 1945, Soviet Temporary Detention Camp 130, Baranovichi, USSR.

“Hold the light steady, man!”

Desperation and tiredness made the surgeon shout at his helper.

“Damn it! Clamp.”

“We have no more clamps, Sir.”

“The pegs, give me a peg.”

Needs must, so the wooden peg was quickly inserted into the inner thigh of the Sikh Corporal who lay dying on the crates that counted as a surgical table in Camp 130.