“I don’t need to. But something Olga let slip today made me realize she must know why Konstantin was killed, and who was responsible. She’s obviously too frightened to say a word, so perhaps it’s time you told me the truth. Were you at that meeting?”
“It was a tragic accident,” said Kolya.
Elena leaned forward and whispered, “Is your life also in danger?” Her brother nodded, and left the kitchen without another word.
* * *
Elena lay in bed that night thinking about her husband. Part of her was still unwilling to accept he wasn’t alive. It didn’t help that Alexander had worshiped his father, and had always tried so hard to live up to his impossible standards. Standards that must have been the reason Konstantin had sacrificed his life, and at the same time condemned his son to spend the rest of his days as a dock laborer.
Elena had hoped their son would join the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and that she would live long enough to see him becom
e an ambassador. But it was not to be. If brave men aren’t willing to take risks for what they believe in, Konstantin had once told her, nothing will ever change. Elena only wished her husband had been more of a coward. But then, if he had been, perhaps she wouldn’t have fallen so helplessly in love with him.
Elena’s brother, Kolya, had been his third in command at the docks, but Polyakov clearly didn’t consider him a threat, because he kept his job as chief loader after Konstantin’s “tragic accident.” What Polyakov couldn’t know was that Kolya hated the KGB even more than his brother-in-law had, and although he appeared to have fallen into line, he was already planning his revenge, which wouldn’t involve making impassioned speeches, although it would take every bit as much courage.
* * *
Elena was surprised to see her brother waiting for her outside the dock gates when she clocked off the following afternoon.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” she said, as they began to walk home.
“You may not think so when you hear what I’ve got to say.”
“Does it concern Alexander?” asked Elena anxiously.
“I’m afraid it does. He’s begun badly. Refuses to take orders, and is openly contemptuous of the KGB. Today he told a junior officer to fuck off.” Elena shuddered. “You must tell him to knuckle down, because I won’t be able to cover for him much longer.”
“I’m afraid he’s inherited his father’s fierce independent streak,” said Elena, “without any of his discretion or wisdom.”
“And it doesn’t help that he’s brighter than everyone else around him, including the KGB officers,” said Kolya. “And they all know it.”
“But what can I do, when he doesn’t listen to me any longer?”
They walked in silence for some time before Kolya spoke again, and then not until he was certain no one could overhear them. “I may have come up with a solution. But I can’t pull it off without your full cooperation.” He paused. “And Alexander’s.”
* * *
As if Elena’s problems at home weren’t bad enough, things were becoming worse at work, as the major’s advances became less and less subtle. She had considered pouring boiling water over his wandering hands, but the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.
It must have been about a week later, as she was tidying up the kitchen before returning home, that Polyakov staggered in, clearly drunk, and began to unbutton his trousers as he advanced toward her. Just as he was about to place a sweaty hand on her breast, a junior officer rushed in, and said that the commandant needed to see him urgently. Polyakov couldn’t hide his frustration, and as he left, hissed at Elena, “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back later.” Elena was so terrified, she didn’t leave the kitchen for over an hour. But the moment the siren finally sounded, she pulled on her coat and was among the first to clock off.
When her brother joined her for supper that evening, she begged him to tell her the details of his plan.
“I thought you said it was far too great a risk.”
“I did, but that was before I realized I can’t avoid Polyakov’s advances any longer.”
“You told me you could even bear that, as long as Alexander never found out.”
“But if he did,” said Elena quietly, “can you imagine what he might do? So tell me what you have in mind, because I’ll consider anything.”
Kolya leaned forward and poured himself a shot of vodka before he began to take her slowly through his plan. “As you know, several foreign vessels unload their cargo at the docks every week, and we have to turn them around as quickly as possible, so any waiting ships can take their place. That’s my responsibility.”
“But how does that help us?” asked Elena.
“Once a ship has been unloaded, the loading process begins. Because not everyone wants bags of salt or cases of vodka, some vessels leave the port empty.” Elena remained silent while her brother continued. “There are two ships due in on Friday, which after they’ve discharged their cargo will leave on the Saturday afternoon tide with empty holds. You and Alexander could be hidden on one of them.”
“But if we’re caught we could end up on a cattle train to Siberia.”