“Dalek, Filip, come meet my son!” Anton held the infant higher so his friends could see.
“A son? That’s wonderful!” Filip came closer and brushed the baby’s hair with a reverent finger. For a moment, Nadia was filled with longing. Helping Veronika with the delivery had made her glad she was not with child. The process had been terrifying. And Veronika was no weakling. If she had cried in pain, what would Nadia do? But in the end, she had a baby. What would it be like to bear a child and share it with Filip? The pain still frightened her, but the outcome—the outcome appealed to her.
Anton bent to give his wife a kiss. “Yes, and my beautiful, brave Veronika is well.” Anton met Nadia’s eyes for a moment. “She had the help of dear friends.”
Nadia felt her cheeks grow warm. Veronika had shown Nadia so much kindness. Nadia was glad to return a bit of it.
“Dalek?” Anton’s face held question. “What’s wrong?”
Dalek glanced from the baby to Veronika to Anton. “I’m just wishing I had champagne to help celebrate. It’s good news. So delightful that I wish I didn’t have news of my own to share.”
Filip looked up. “What is it?”
“Gajda wants demolition experts.” All eyes turned to Anton. “Kral sent me to find you.”
“Anton’s a new father. Surely someone else . . .” Filip didn’t finish his sentence.
Dalek shook his head. “The Bolsheviks pulled out of Irkutsk. We can waltz right in, but according to White Russian spies, the Bolsheviks have a train full of high explosives at Baikal Station. There are thirty-nine tunnels around the lake. If they blow any one of them, we’re trapped. And they tore up the track behind them, so we’ll have to go on foot.”
It had taken years to build all the tunnels that cut through the steep cliffs at the southern end of Lake Baikal. If one was destroyed, it could take months—or more—to repair it. By then, the Red Army would be upon them, and the Red Army was gaining strength every single day.
Veronika’s lips trembled. “When is he to leave?”
“Tonight.” Dalek frowned. “I’m sorry.”
Anton sat next to Veronika and handed the baby to her. She’d been so strong all night, but now she sobbed. “What if you don’t come back?”
“I’ll go with him,” Filip said. “I’ll bring him back to you.”
“It’s the Seventh Regiment’s task, not ours,” Dalek pointed out.
“I’m sure they’ll accept volunteers. I’ll clear it with Kral.” Filip took the baby’s hand and smiled, then looked at the new parents. “I’ll get your equipment ready. And Veronika, I will keep him safe. I promise.”
Nadia left the boxcar with Filip and Dalek to give the new family some time together before they were parted. She was glad Filip would look after Anton, for Veronika’s sake. But who would make sure Filip came back?
***
They left under cover of night, following Cossack guides. Nadia watched them go, and Filip wondered what she thought. He hadn’t considered how she might feel when he volunteered. He’d been a soldier the entire time they’d known each other, so she had to understand his duty. Only this wasn’t his duty, not really. He wasn’t following orders, just the demands of friendship. If Anton were being dragged away from his vulnerable wife and new baby, how could Filip stay behind?
“Can we trust them?” Anton studied the nearest guide.
“Most Cossacks don’t love the Bolsheviks.”
“They might not love us either.”
That was true enough, but most of the people he’d met in Siberia sympathized with the Czechoslovaks. They were just going home, after all, and weren’t a threat if left alone. If provoked, it was an entirely different matter. “There are more of us than there are of them. I doubt they’ll cross us.”
Anton grunted. “They don’t have to cross us directly. They just have to delay us, and the Bolsheviks will blow up a tunnel and trap us.”
Filip didn’t expect Anton to be cheerful company during their march. Had it been Nadia who’d just given birth, Filip would have had a hard time leaving. But their marriage wasn’t real, so the thought of children was laughable. He was simply Nadia’s ticket to Vladivostok, and he had to remember that, or the pain when she left—and leave she would—would be unbearable. “Did you name your son?”
“Marek, after Veronika’s father.”
“Marek Tothova. It’s a good name.”
Anton’s voice was softer now, the bitterness gone. “A name from a Czech grandfather and a Slovak father. He’ll be both, I suppose, just like this country we’re going to win.” Anton adjusted the straps of his knapsack. “If we don’t get trapped between a bunch of blocked tunnels and the Red Army.”
“You’re going to save us from that fate, aren’t you?”
Anton shook his head. “If we can’t move the train, we’re to blow it up. Just about anyone could do that.”
“I’m sorry you had to come.”
Anton nodded. “I miss her. And the baby. I’ve only known him a few hours, but I already miss him.” They walked in silence for a time. “Do you miss your wife?”
“Nadia isn’t really mine. I’ve no right to miss her.”
“So you’ll go through with the annulment?”
“That was our agreement.”