“Nadia’s here? And Orlov?”
Dalek looked at his wound.
“Orlov shot you?”
“He remembered . . . our last meeting. Going to execute her . . . tomorrow. The Ushakovka.”
“What time? What part of the river?”
“That’s . . . all I know.”
“Don’t make him talk.” Anton’s hands moved with desperation as he tried to bind up the wound.
Dalek was shot and bleeding. Nadia was a captive of the Cheka. And daylight was already fading. “Should we take him to the depot?” Legion trains still sat at the station. The local hospital was probably full of typhus cases, but the Fifth Regiment would have doctors. Between the two of them, they could carry Dalek back.
Anton tied a knot in the rag he’d used around Dalek’s abdomen and nodded.
Filip grabbed Dalek under the armpits, and Anton took his legs. Dalek was heavy and quickly grew unresponsive. Deadweight. Filip hoped he wasn’t really dead.
A pair of new worries ate at Filip. Dalek had come to Irkutsk to help him. He had forged that telegram for the same reason. If Dalek died, it would be Filip’s fault.
And Nadia was here, in Irkutsk, scheduled to die tomorrow, but Filip didn’t know where or when.
Chapter Forty-Five
Orlov and three guards roused Nadia and the others before daybreak. They weren’t given time to wash or eat. They were simply marched from the prison and taken onto the ice of the Ushakovka River. Most rivers froze with smooth surfaces, but not the Angara and its tributaries near Lake Baikal. Chunks of ice floated from the lake and connected into a rough frozen plane, adding one more difficulty to their walk that morning. Waiting at their destination were two additional guards, standing in the light of an automobile’s headlights, poking at a hole in the ice to keep it from freezing over.
Since the moment she’d been arrested, Nadia had known what would happen, but that didn’t make the cut of the wind any less sharp or the taste of defeat any less bitter.
Orlov clasped his hands behind his back. “Yesterday, a troika found you each guilty of counterrevolutionary activities. You’ve been sentenced to death.”
Nadia squeezed her eyes shut. The sentence wasn’t a surprise, but death came with regrets.
“Any last requests?”
She almost asked if they could mail a letter for her so she could tell Filip not to look for her anymore, tell him their marriage had been but a temporary affair after all, but she didn’t trust the Bolsheviks. If they knew Filip was married to a counterrevolutionary, it might cause trouble for him. He would have to remain ignorant of her fate, for his own good.
“Your glorious revolution doesn’t allow the accused to attend their own trial?” Nikolai stood tall, just as Papa had when facing the executioner.
Orlov frowned. “This is war. You were lucky to get a trial.”
No one spoke for a long moment.
Orlov motioned to two guards, who seized Sokolov and Fedorov. Both declined blindfolds. Sokolov met her eyes and gave her that sympathetic smile she had grown used to from him. Fedorov held his head erect and glared at his executioners.
The Cheka agents raised their revolvers and fired. The shots echoed through Nadia’s soul. Sokolov and Fedorov fell to the frozen surface of the river, and the guards kicked their bodies through the hole into the rushing black water below.
They’d survived five and a half years of war only to end their lives in the predawn gray of a Siberian winter, shot by misguided guards trying to protect a revolution that had brought their country nothing but misery.
Nikolai took Nadia’s hand and squeezed it. “I wish it hadn’t come to this for any of us, but especially for you.”
The guards grabbed them and hauled them closer to the opening in the river. Smears of blood from her slain friends stained the ice.
“I suppose we’ll see each other again soon.” Nadia filled her lungs with frigid air. “And our parents.”
“Yes. And it won’t be so cold in heaven.”
“When they shot Mama and Papa, I felt like a frightened little mouse. But I’m not scared this time.” And she wasn’t. Sad, yes. But not scared.
Nikolai took her hand again. “You may have been a mouse before. But now you’re a tiger. And though a tiger might be cornered, the hunter is still frightened.” Nikolai scowled at Orlov. The Cheka agent didn’t look frightened, not in the least. Even so, Nadia was ready to die bravely. Soon it would all be over. She could be brave for a few more seconds.
“Ready.” Orlov ignored Nikolai’s glare and focused on his men.
Two raised their revolvers, one aiming at Nikolai, the other at Nadia.
A shot sounded, a headlight blinked out, and Nadia flinched. Nikolai jerked on her hand, pulling her behind him so he could shield her with his body.
Another shot and one of the guards fell. Then another.
“Shoot them!” Orlov shouted.
Nikolai fell to the ice. She went down after him, hoping he was simply diving for cover. Only one headlight shone, but it was enough for her to see red spreading across Nikolai’s chest.