Good. They were waiting, giving up the initiative. But could Dalek do more? If he told them armored trains were coming and they should pull back from the station, the station would be easier for the legion to take. But an order like that could backfire because pulling back would make sense only if the station and town were divided. He walked to the map to see how the station was set up, but the map wasn’t detailed enough. Who would know something about Tatarsk?
Dalek turned to the other clerk again. “I need Nurse Sedláková. She ought to be in the hospital car. If not, try the women’s carriage.”
“Why do you need a nurse?”
“For this.” Dalek tapped his finger on the map.
The clerk frowned but left. Dalek didn’t know anyone who had been this far east before, but Nadia knew Russia.
Eventually, she came, still wearing a nurse’s apron spotted with blood.
“Have you heard from Filip? Is he all right?” she asked.
Kral had sent Filip out early that morning, and it seemed Filip’s wife was worried. Dalek recognized concern beneath a shallow layer of calm. He’d seen the same thing from her the day before when he’d found Filip’s body by the bridge and hauled him to the hospital car. “He’s not due back until later. I’m sure he’s fine.”
Her shoulders relaxed in relief. “He should be resting.”
“He said he felt much better this morning.” He hadn’t said it very convincingly, but Kral depended on Filip’s information, so he’d sent Filip out, and as a concession to his recent wound, he’d sent Emil with him.
Nadia looked around the telegraph office. She didn’t seem as weary as she had the day before, but her eyelids drooped a bit. “Why did you send for me?”
“Tatarsk. Do you know it?”
“I’ve not been there, but I’ve heard of it.”
That was something. “How big is it?”
“Small. Not even a town. It scarcely existed before the railway went through.”
“So is it like most of the towns along the railway? With the train depot wherever they could buy cheap land or ford a river and the main town to the north or the south?”
Nadia looked at the vague map. “I would guess not.”
“So telling them to withdraw to town won’t make much sense. Might blow my bluff.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Bolsheviks in Tatarsk requested aid. They think their allies still hold Omsk, but I answered, told them help is on the way. Getting them to expect help when none’s coming is useful, you see. They’ll delay any attack, giving the legion an advantage.” Dalek ran a finger over his mustache. “But it might also make them hold out longer, expecting help to arrive even if the tide turns against them.” He hadn’t thought of that before, and Kral must not have either. The ruse could cut both ways.
Nadia took a chair beside him. “They think you’re the Omsk Soviet?”
“For now. How do you know so much about the railway?”
“My father was involved with the building. Bureaucratically rather than physically. He was passionate about linking Russia together.”
“And why did you assume something happened to Filip?”
Her hands, folded in her lap, did a little flutter before once again clasping calmly together. A hint of color warmed her cheeks. “Why else would anyone call for me?”
“For this, perhaps.” Dalek gestured to the map. “You’re worried about him?”
“He’s my husband. Is it wrong to worry over him?”
Dalek smiled back a chuckle. He was making her defensive. Interesting. “Depends on the type of marriage.”
Her blush grew more pronounced, but before she could answer, another message came through.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Oh, that one’s not for us. Something about grain shipments. But will you stay in case I need you again? Eventually, Tatarsk is going to ask where their reinforcements are.” Dalek looked at his watch. He’d sent his first message an hour ago. It was time to contact them again.
Dalek ran his translation past Nadia, then tapped it out.
Tatarsk didn’t answer for a while, but eventually, it came through.
Dalek had his reply ready.
They waited again, and this time, the delay was longer before Tatarsk’s message arrived.
Dalek sent another message to further the ruse.