The Moscow Affair (From The Files Of Lady Dru Drummond Book 1)

by CW Hawes

“Then we have problems. Since they don’t know much about us, we may try to help them get out of the country.”

  “When can I see them?”

  “I knew you’d ask that. Dru, they don’t know you’re here. You may not be able to see them.”

  “Like hell, I’m not. One is my friend and the other…, the other is the man I love and with whom I want to spend my life. At least as much of my life as I can.”

  “I know, Dru –”

  “Dunyasha, I have to see them. Talk to them. I have to. Please, please arrange this.”

  “Dru, I don’t know if I can. I told Mikhail I don’t want to be part of this anymore and now I’m in something of the same position as you.”

  “Are you serious? You’re telling me the truth?”

  “Yes, I am. In truth, we aren’t much better than the Communists. And I’m tired of playing men’s games. I want to go home and do what we women should be doing, providing a good home to our men and families.”

  “I’m surprised at you, Dunyasha. You, a housewife?”

  “Well, no, not exactly. But being out here killing people isn’t what I want to do with my life. I belong with the Baron. At least for now.” Then she laughed. “At least until I tire of him again.”

  “Now you sound like the Dunyasha I know and love.” Then I became serious. “Please, do what you can. I need to see them.”

  “I’ll try. For you. But I can’t promise you anything. I’m not exactly Mikhail’s favorite person right now.”

  “Thank you, Dunyasha. Thank you.”

  The next day, a sunny Saturday, I had great hopes of seeing Karl and Kit, especially Karl. And after breakfast, when Dunyasha arrived, I expected her to tell me she was taking me to see my friends. Alas, such was not the case.

  “I’m sorry, Dru. Neratoff said letting you see them was out of the question and Mikhail agreed with him.”

  “No. I’m not going to sit here and let them keep my friends from me. I’m tired of this.”

  “What do you propose to do?”

  “Do you know where they are?”

  “At the moment all four are on the ground floor of the house. Neratoff didn’t think it wise to let on about the bunker.”

  “Then we’re going to find them, Dunyasha.”

  “How are you going to leave?”

  “You are going to scream bloody murder for help and when the guard comes in I’m going to clobber him with the poker.”

  “Alright. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  Klara and I stood on either side of the door, she armed with the fireplace shovel and I the poker. When the door opened, I’d be behind the door and when the guard entered, I’d come out from behind and clobber him. Klara was there for backup. When ready, Dunyasha screamed for help and she was very convincing. The door was unlocked and the guard raced in. When he saw Dunyasha he stopped. I brought the poker down hard on his right shoulder. He yelped, dropped his submachine gun, and staggered. Klara belted him on the head and he went down, then pivoted and smacked the other guard in the face as he came through the door and down he went.

  We gagged them, tied them up, and left the room. Dunyasha and I carrying the submachine guns and Klara, my revolver. We charged down the hall, raced down the stairs and checked out the rooms on the ground floor. We didn’t have to go far. On either side of the door to the briefing room, stood a guard. We pointed the machine guns at them. They held up one hand, crouched down, set their rifles on the floor, then stood up with both hands in the air. Dunyasha spoke Russian and one of the guards opened the door. I walked in with Klara and Dunyasha following. Klara had picked up one of the assault rifles.

  Neratoff’s cool demeanor was betrayed by the fire in his eyes. Mikhail, angry at first, began to smile. Kit and Karl stood, both shocked to see me. Kit gave me a lazy salute and said, “Good to see you again, Lady Hurley-Drummond.” Karl and I looked at each other forever. No words needed to be said. Our eyes said everything and then I ran around the table to him and hugged him. Holding him so tightly he could not take a deep breath. He didn’t complain. He put his arms around me and whispered my name.

  Mikhail stood and said, “Come, Dimitri. The ever resourceful Lady Hurley-Drummond has earned the right to meet with her friends. Let’s give them some time alone.” Neratoff joined Mikhail and they left the room.

  When Mikhail and Neratoff left, I looked into Karl’s eyes and then I kissed him. I didn’t care. The man is my soulmate and I love him. Karl didn’t argue but kissed me back. Finally we separated.

  “Now we leave,” I said.

  And that’s when the first artillery shell landed and knocked us to the floor.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Attack

  Dunyasha was the first to speak. “We’re under attack.”

  “That’s what I was trying to tell them,” Kit Somers said.

  Karl added, “The Soviets have a spy here. We finally got information which helped us pinpoint the general area where we thought you and the headquarters were.”

  “Then that Soviet patrol captured us,” Kit said. “We were trying to warn you all and provide intel where the Soviets were building up.”

  “But Count Neratoff wouldn’t believe it,” Karl said.

  The look on Dunyasha’s face was one of disgust. “Now he’ll have to,” she said.

  Another artillery shell exploded. This time further away. Dunyasha shook her head. “They better not scratch the paint on my car.”

  “If they do, I can get you a new Graham to replace it,” Somers said.

  Dunyasha gave him a withering look, then said, “Let’s go. We need to help.”

  But when we tried leaving the house Gregor stopped us.

  “I’m sorry, Ladies and Gentlemen," he said in French, "you cannot leave the house.”

  Dunyasha fired off a string of Russian and I saw Klara blanch. Gregor was firm. “You are not to leave,” he said. “If you do, you will be shot dead. Captain Turbanev has ordered it.”

  “Where are the other two who were with us?” Somers asked.

  “They are here, Sir, and they are safe,” Gregor told him. “If the compound is breached, you can retreat to the bunker.”

  A shell came whistling in. We hit the floor and it hit close by, blowing out windows, and peppering us with glass. We started to get up when we heard the rapid fire of an anti-aircraft gun. We stayed down until the firing stopped.

  I stood, brushed myself off. “I’m going to get my typewriter,” I announced. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Dru, no,” Karl said. “It won’t be safe on the upper floors.”

  “Karl, that typewriter has been with me through thick and thin. I’m not leaving it.”

  “Then I’ll go with you.”

  “That’s not necessary, Karl.”

  “Incoming!” Gregor shouted.

  We all got down. The explosion rocked the house, sending plaster and dust showering down on us.

  “That one hit the house,” Karl said.

  I got up and ran for the stairs. Karl followed. When I reached my rooms I remembered the two guards. Karl and I ungagged and untied them. Neither one was in good shape, but they ran out of my suite. Another artillery shell came whistling in. Karl and I took cover. That one exploded very close by, shaking the house on its foundation.

  Huddled together, I kissed Karl. “Thank you for coming. I’ve been so stupid.”

  He put his finger on my lips. “Get your typewriter and let’s go.”

  I put the machine in its case. Karl picked it up and we ran back downstairs.

  Dunyasha was waiting for us. “Gregor’s taken the others to the cellar. Follow me.”

  We followed her to the cellar and there we found the other two Americans, Elmer Pond and William French. Introductions were made and though nothing was said, I was willing to put a lot of money on Pond and French, if those were indeed their real names, being full-time IRIS agents.

  Gregor said in French, “This is not fully suitable as
a bomb shelter, but will do for now. We’ll fall back to the bunker, if necessary.”

  Dunyasha took in the Americans, then asked, “Tell me, if it’s true, who’d authorized your execution?”

  Karl answered, “I think it was true enough. The local Commissar was quite pleased with himself on his military unit capturing American spies working for the revolutionaries. He was going to have us sign forged statements and then execute us. If your men and women hadn’t attacked, I doubt we’d be breathing at this point.”

  Dunyasha nodded. “A local official looking to make a rapid rise in the party. That is good. He probably did not advertise your capture. And if he did not, that will make it all the easier for you to escape and return to Moscow.”

  “I hope so,” Kit Somers said, “I still have some business to attend to.”

  There was an explosion and the cellar shook. Dust and bits of things dropped down on us.

  “That was a direct hit,” Dunyasha said.

  “This house is much stronger than it appears,” I said.

  Gregor asked Dunyasha a question and she replied.

  “Yes, indeed,” Gregor replied, “it was built to withstand quite a bit of punishment. But nothing is invincible.” Near as I could tell, his French was impeccable.

  We heard the thuds of two more artillery shells and then quiet. And more quiet.

  Elmer Pond spoke in French, “They’re preparing their ground assault. The Red Army has four companies prepared to take this place. We estimate anywhere from four hundred to six hundred men and probably eight tanks."

  "The defense perimeter is quite strong,” Gregor said. “If they get through the minefield, they then have to face the pillboxes. If anyone is left after that… ." He shrugged. Indicating there wouldn’t be many, if any, to assault the compound proper.

  “Your weak spots, I think,” continued Pond, “Are the gates. If they concentrated their efforts there, then you will be vulnerable.”

  “Perhaps, Monsieur Pond. Perhaps. There are charges under the road surface. They can be detonated at any time. You see, we shall not go down without a fight.”

  “I see that,” Pond replied.

  “What I can’t stand is just sitting here,” I said in French, since that seemed to be the lingua franca. “I’m a journalist. Karl, as well. We’re going to go up and take notes.”

  Gregor stood, “Lady Hurley-Drummond, I’m sorry but you can’t leave the house.”

  “Well, we are. We’ll be back. We aren’t running off just yet.”

  “Let them go, Gregor,” Dunyasha said. “They’ll be back, if they can stay alive.”

  “Very well,” he said. “Good luck to you.”

  For the first time William French spoke, “I’ll go with you to provide cover should you need it.”

  Gregor nodded. “But that is all.”

  The three of us went up the stairs to the main floor. We walked out the front door just as the sound of several explosions thudded in the distance.

  “Mines,” French said.

  The main gate is to the northwest of the front door. The secondary gate is to the east of the house. We took in what we could see from the front doors. Which wasn’t much due to the trees. From what we could hear, most of the activity seemed to be coming from the main gate. The whump of mortar fire and the occasional report of a sniper rifle.

  Karl said, “We could split up. Each of us taking a gate. I think that’s where the main action will be.”

  “No. We’re not splitting up, Karl. Not ever again.”

  “Dru, I do so love you.”

  “And I you. And my foolishness…”

  “Shush. Don’t be hard on yourself. There is nothing wrong in what you want.”

  There was a large explosion to the south, followed by quite a bit of machine gun fire. We took off for the garages, rounded the end of the western most one, and saw a disabled tank in the minefield. We heard a distant boom, hit the ground, and a tank shell exploded off to our right. The sound was deafening.

  French said, “That is a T-34. The Soviets aren’t playing around. They’re sending their best tank. That old MS-1 you’ve got won’t stand a chance.”

  There was another boom and an explosion off to our right. Behind us the MS-1 tank began firing. We moved to a new position east of the drive, between the drive and the house, twice having to take cover from incoming tank shells. We got close enough to see the action at the gate but remained hidden in the trees. The MS-1 was firing at a T-34 charging down the drive. The shells of the old tank glanced off the sloped armor of the newer tank. Two hundred meters from the gate the T-34 fired one shell and scored a direct hit on the MS-1. Rivets blew out, the turret jumped a couple of feet, and that was the end of the partisans’ captured tank. The T-34 came rolling on down the drive with soldiers and another tank following. The machine guns in the pill boxes on either side of the drive opened fire which slowed the advance of the infantry.

  The tank crashed through the flimsy gate and from behind each pillbox a partisan fired a panzerfaust. The Soviet tank stopped and smoke began billowing from it. Two down now. Only six to go if Pond was correct.

  William French said, “Very clever of Turbanev to circle this place with a minefield. Like an old-fashioned moat. Then he turns the drives into a killing field.”

  The Soviets apparently had the same thought. They pulled back behind the tree line. Then the booms and thuds of tank and mortar fire began to be heard.

  Karl’s face was grim. “The Red Army is going to shell this place into oblivion.”

  French nodded. “Looks like a likely scenario.”

  The whistling of heavier artillery rounds sounded and we buried our heads. The explosions shook the ground and sent debris flying everywhere. For their part, the partisans replied with mortar fire. And then we heard a deep and much throatier report. And then another.

  “Looks as though Turbanev has himself a couple heavier guns,” French said. “Let’s see what they are.”

  The Soviets however were beginning to rain down a heavy barrage of shells. Explosions were going off everywhere.

  Karl said, “We better get back to the cellar.”

  French nodded. “Good idea.”

  We began moving towards the house. French on my left and Karl on my right. A mortar round caught us by surprise. The blast on our left literally knocked us down. I think I passed out for a moment or two, because it took a moment for me to regain recognition my surroundings. Mr. French was on top of me and I was covered with blood.

  Karl staggered to his feet and dragged French’s body off of me. “Come on, Dru. We have to get out of here.”

  A shell hit the side of the house. We staggered towards the front doors. They were hanging askew. Blown off their hinges. We made our way inside and down to the cellar.

  “Thank God, you’re back,” Dunyasha said.

  Pond didn’t say anything. His eyes and face did the talking for him.

  “I’m sorry,” Karl said. “Artillery or mortar round.

  “My lady, you’re hurt,” Klara said.

  “Oh my God, Dru! You’re covered in blood!” Dunyasha exclaimed.

  “Mr. French’s,” I said. “We were running to the house and a shell exploded. He caught the brunt of the blast.”

  “The mine field stopped the Soviet advance,” Karl said. “The Red Army lost two tanks. The old MS-1 you captured was destroyed as well. They’ve pulled back and are now shelling this place.”

  Gregor went to a corner of the cellar, pressed a spot on the wall, and then opened the door to a large wardrobe. “In here,” he said. “It’s best we go to the bunker.”

  "We'll get you cleaned up there, Dru," Dunyasha said.

  There was an explosion and the house shook. I entered the wardrobe. There was an open door at the back and steps leading down. Klara, Dunyasha, and the men followed, with Gregor coming down last. He then took the lead in guiding us through the maze of corridors and rooms that comprised Turbanev’s bunker.
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  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Escape

  The shelling stopped at four Sunday morning. The house was a ruin. One garage was completely destroyed and half of the other one was demolished. Dunyasha was so thankful that her car wasn’t destroyed she was almost willing to join a convent to show appreciation to the Almighty for sparing her baby. Almost. Two of the four anti-aircraft guns were destroyed and one of the two Pak 38 anti-tank guns had been knocked out. The partisans were pretty sure four more Soviet tanks had been destroyed. During the night, SS-Sturmbannführer Leon Leiprecht slipped out through one of the escape tunnels. If we were overrun it would be prudent for him not to be amongst the partisans. The presence of German arms and munitions will be a big enough headache for Berlin to deal with.

  Just before four-thirty Mikhail came to see us. He said we were free to leave.

  “I cannot guarantee we will survive this,” he said. The Soviets have us surrounded. Their shelling targeted the minefields. The west field has been mostly obliterated. We expect a three-prong attack: the two gates and from the west. There are six of you. You can take the Autobahnkurier and of course the Talbot Lago. You best leave immediately. The sky is already beginning to lighten. They could attack at any time.”

  Mikhail and I looked at each other. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “No. I’m the one who should be sorry, Dru. I shall remember you always. Now, go. Hurry.”

  Pond, Somers, Karl, Klara, Dunyasha, and I climbed out of the bunker through a narrow emergency exit just to the south of the garages. We made our way carefully through the rubble towards the garage where the cars were located in which we’d make our escape. Suddenly two flares turned the beginning dawn into day.

  “The attack begins,” Pond said.

  “We better hurry.” I could feel the intensity in Dunyasha’s voice.

  We ran to the portion of the garage still standing. No one was on duty. We grabbed the keys and made for the cars.

  “How shall we divide up?” Pond asked.

  Dunyasha answered him. “I have room for one. I’d like Dru to come with me.”