“Well, we’re not going to Arkhangelsk. We’re going to Vladivostok, per a new agreement with the Soviets here and in Moscow. We’re allowed to travel unmolested as free citizens. We can keep one hundred sixty-eight rifles and one machine gun for every train to protect ourselves. The rest we’re to turn over.”
Give up all but a hundred and sixty-eight rifles per train? “But we’ve earned our rifles! Some of us had to take them from dead German soldiers! And the rest would have fallen into German hands if we hadn’t collected them.”
Kral nodded. “Make sure the Soviets don’t
“Spies?” It was Dalek’s question, but Filip had thought the same thing.
The corners of Kral’s lips pulled in amusement. “Technically, they are to ensure our safe passage. But yes, I think the truth is closer to your statement, Pokorný. We’re to move in groups of six hundred men, supposedly to keep traffic manageable. What do you think of that last part?”
“If we’re in smaller groups, we’re weaker.” Dalek frowned. “Why did we agree to something like this?”
“Because that’s what our leaders in France said to do. And because we don’t want a battle in Russia. The Bolsheviks were friendly during the evacuation of the Ukraine, so we have reason to believe they’ll cooperate with us in Russia.”
Filip wasn’t sure he agreed. “They’re trying to recruit our men into the Red Army.”
“Keep the men near the trains, then. We’ve already lost some of our Russian officers. We don’t want to lose our men too.”
***
A knock on the wooden siding drew Nadia’s attention, and she turned to see Filip standing on the ground outside the boxcar’s doorway.
“Good morning, Filip.” There was something comforting about the man with a pleasant face and a generous nature. Like seeing a friend, and with her past life erased, there were few others she could give that title to.
“All alone?”
“Yes.” Veronika was with her husband, like most of the other women. Veronika was another unexpected friend. The other women had stopped snickering behind Nadia’s back, but she wouldn’t call them friendly.
“I forgot to give you this yesterday.” He handed up a piece of paper.
She took it and scanned the words.
“It’s not official, but it might be useful if I can’t be there to answer questions.” Filip looked away. “Anyway, I wanted you to have it in case you need it. I left the date blank, for you to fill in later. If you use black ink, it will match the rest of the document.”
It was witnessed by Anton Tothova and Dalek Pokorný.
“Thank you.” It was what they’d agreed upon, what she’d wanted. So why did she feel such gloom as she put the affidavit in the secondhand attaché case he’d bought her the day before? And why was his expression so sad?
“Are you busy now?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then I am at your service. At least until evening when I have guard duty.” He straightened as he spoke, as if reporting before a general.
“Perhaps you could show me my duties. I’ve a great deal to learn.”
“Such as?”
Where to start? “Could you teach me to wash clothes? I’ve never done it before.”
He nodded and reached out to assist her from the boxcar. Two rickety metal steps helped with the descent, but she was glad for his firm, balancing hand. “Let’s gather supplies first.”
She followed him over the tracks and around long trains sitting, waiting. “Will we be in Penza long?”
“I’m not sure. The local Soviet is split. The longer we stay, the longer we interrupt traffic. But the longer we stay, the more likely they are to recruit from among our ranks, and we have more training than the Red Army does.”
“Prime recruits.”
Filip scowled. “I convinced a lot of these men to fight for a new Czechoslovakia. I didn’t recruit them to fight for the Bolsheviks. And they aren’t content with stealing our men. They want our weapons too. We just want to leave in peace, but they want us to supply their equipment and their personnel. I might agree to surrendering our weapons when we reach Vladivostok, but to turn them over here, with all of Russia still to cross?” Frustration colored his voice and showed in the tense set of his shoulders and the way one of his hands squeezed into a fist. But paired with the frustration was a mildness she admired.
She almost didn’t say anything—any suggestion she had was unlikely to help—but she didn’t think Filip would laugh at her, no matter how naive her idea sounded. “Could you hide your weapons?”