The Rift

by H Schmidt

  “What do you mean, Elizaveta?” He could not say that he knew while there was the possibility she was talking of something else. “General Kornilov is preparing to declare himself the leader of Russia. I think it is our only chance to save Russia, Lieutenant. My spirit soared when he told me. I asked him what could I do.”

  “You have not told any of this to Anna, have you?” Billy held his breath. He wondered what Elizaveta knew about Anna.

  “Anna has been a spy for the Bolsheviks for months, Lieutenant. She claims to have broken with the Bolsheviks. I have no reason to trust her. She is a shallow person.”

  “Elizaveta, I want you to persuade Anna to go back to work. There are things we need to know.”

  ---

  For the last week, he felt on top of the world. Everything was falling into place. The meeting between Carson and Kornilov, the carefully orchestrated propaganda for Kornilov before the state conference in Moscow, the reception for Kornilov, had stung him. It was the reception that made him think the world was crumbling under his feet. Everything, all the work on committees, the errands for the Progressive Bloc, the catering to men less capable than he, was for nothing. He was about to lose it to a man who was always allowed to keep his dignity as a soldier, who never had to humiliate himself to achieve what he wanted. But as he watched the general at the state conference, he found something inside him turn to steel. No, he would not let it happen. He was too clever for that. By evening, he knew precisely what he would do, even how he would do it. Kerensky never ceased to admire his own brilliance.

  No one knew what he was up to. Nekrasov was intelligent, and he was clever. But he saw no need to share the whole plan with him. He might become overwhelmed, unable to make the right judgments on the part of the task he would be asked to perform. The prime minister knew that the time would come when he must overcome the Bolsheviks. They had a vision for Russia, they were ruthless, and in time they would come after him. He was sure he could defeat them, that he would emerge after the elections as the leader of Russia and all the socialist parties. First he must deal with Kornilov.

  Lenin was fond of remarking that you must know who your enemies are and be ruthless in defeating them. Well, he knew that General Lavr Gregorivich Kornilov was his enemy. He knew now how to defeat him. That night, when all seemed lost, it had all become clear. The Bolsheviks would do their part. They had begun by attacking unnamed persons who would rescind Order Number One and who demanded we stay in the war. Eventually, they would direct their fury at Kornilov. They would seek to make him confess to these sins, then pillory him. It was the part of the plan that he would execute that would finish the general. It would all be so simple.

  ---

  He loved being a soldier. As long as he could remember, when he first saw his father in the uniform of a Cossack, he had wanted to be what he was today. There were times in the last several years that he had been deeply depressed. The corrupt politicians and generals had brought Russia down. They had allowed themselves to be bullied and flattered into entering the war before Russia was ready to fight. They had been unwilling to risk discomfort at home to see that the army was well fed and had enough weapons and ammunition to fight the war. Now, they had made it impossible for the army to fight by creating Order Number One which made the officers powerless to lead.

  He wanted only to be a soldier, but his love of Russia gave him no choice. He must lead Russia through these dark times into the light. What Turgenev had shown him shocked him, yet exhilarated him. A document signed by Trotsky and Lenin describing the plan to overwhelm those loyal to the Provisional Government and declare a Soviet Russia. He had been allowed to read the document, including the decrees that would be issued nationalizing the banks, the communication centers, the railroads, and ordering the army to fall back from the front for the purpose of making a separate peace with Germany.

  Dmitri Turgenev had excused himself, waiting in the next room until the general said he had finished the document. When he looked up from his reading, his heart was racing. He willed it to stop.

  “How did you get your hands on this?” General Kornilov looked calmly at Turgenev.

  “We have someone inside the Kshesinskaya Palace. We took this at great risk.

  It must be returned this evening.”

  “Why show these documents to me?”

  “Because we knew only the documents would make you believe what is planned.”

  “Do you know when this will happen?”

  “No, we will let you know as soon as we find out.”

  ---

  Kerensky smiled when he thought of Kornilov’s conversation with Turgenev. Turgenev, like he, had been trained as a lawyer. They had carefully reviewed what was to transpire at the meeting. Only he and Dmitri knew of the origin of the documents. He was pleased as he listened to Dmitri recount what was said.

  ---

  “Minister Kerensky understands that conditions in Russia make it impossible for the Provisional Government to withstand the putsch by the Bolsheviks. Only the army, led by someone whom the troops will follow, can save Russia and the revolution.”

  Turgenev watched as the general stood and looked down at him. “What you have told me, Dmitri Turgenev, leads to a point where a momentous decision must be made. That decision must be made by the Provisional Committee of the Duma.”

  “Kerensky asked me to convey to you that is impossible. It would betray to the Bolsheviks that we know their plans. There are members sympathetic to the Bolsheviks, as you know.”

  “I need to hear that from Kerensky, personally.”

  ---

  “Elizaveta tells me that you have told her that you have been a spy for the Bolsheviks and that you would like to do something to make amends.” Billy talked gently to Anna.

  “I have betrayed my father, my family, Minister Kerensky. I will do anything.” Billy wondered whether he could trust the young girl.

  This morning, he had inquired of his sources what they knew about Dmitri Turgenev. Turgenev was a munitions manufacturer who studied law with Kerensky, and frequently was seen at the Kerensky home. He had been known to handle delicate assignments dealing with bankers and industrialists for Kerensky. Shrewd and careful seemed to be the words most often used to describe him. Billy had also worked his sources for any information that might suggest the possibility of a Bolshevik putsch. He had found none. Most seemed to think the Bolsheviks were anxious not to appear too threatening in view of their weakened position after Pereverzev’s accusations of treason. Checking on the final rumor about an intercepted arms shipment, there were no losses reported.

  Why were rumors circulating about Bolshevik activity? Why had Turgenev visited Kornilov? It was common knowledge that Kerensky despised and feared Kornilov, so why? Billy knew that sometimes you have to take risks. He had no other way of finding out.

  “Anna, there have been rumors that the Bolsheviks are planning a putsch, a coup. Have you seen anything that might suggest something like that was true? Has there been anything unusual about the last few days?”

  “Minister Kerensky has spent his time with Dmitri Turgenev and Nicolai Vissaronovich. The minister does seem to be more excitable than usual. But he seems in an excellent mood.”

  “Anna, I’m going to ask you to do something. Do not mention any of this to Kerensky?” He knew he had taken a chance, what could turn out to be a foolish risk. He needed her silence. “Anna, there is a chance that the minister has been compromised by the Germans. You could be in danger. Be very careful.” He was about to walk away.

  “There is one other thing. When Turgenev left, I saw the minister give him a packet. Oddly, the first thing he did when he returned the next morning was given a packet to the minister. It looked to be the same packet. The minister took the packet and immediately put it in his safe without looking at it.”

  “You’re sure he didn’t open it?”

  ---

  Shortly after they first met, they agreed they would mee
t at addresses given to Billy by Carson. The locations were never the same, Billy noticed. Carson was a careful man. It was Billy who sent the note saying it was necessary to meet immediately. It was midafternoon and Billy had chosen to go to the address by traveling through the bustling business district, confident he could lose anyone in the crowds. It was a small home in the older section of the city. An old woman opened the door. She pointed to a door in the back of the house. Carson was sitting at the heavy fir table. He stood and shook hands with Billy, looking at the surprise on his face.

  “Were you followed?” Billy ignored the question for a moment, admiring the man in front of him. He was now as tall as Billy. He looked ten years older with his gray wig and drooping gray mustache. There was a walking cane leaning against the wall. His coat was too large, making him appear thinner.

  “No. How long does it take to do that?”

  Carson smiled. “I was once an actor of sorts. Traveled with an acting troupe. We would put on little plays for the folks. Not long, I still do this from time to time. Actually, the truth be known, I enjoy it.”

  “We have a real pot boiler, Mr. Carson.” He told him what he knew. “The thing I need to know more about is what happened between the general and Turgenev.”

  “Captain Trepov tells me that Turgenev showed the general a document that showed the Bolsheviks were planning something big. Turgenev told him Kerensky thought the Provisional Government was too weak and confused to handle it. He told him, and I asked Trepov to try to tell me as precisely as he could, what Turgenev said. He said Russia needed the army led by someone the soldiers would follow.”

  “Kornilov? Did he say Kornilov?”

  “No, but who else?” Billy was disappointed that Carson hadn’t asked that question.

  “Did Turgenev say when this putsch was supposed to happen?”

  “No, Turgenev said he would let him know, that he had people inside the Kshesinskaya Palace.” Carson broke into a smile. “You amaze me, Billy. Was it Mexico that made you so suspicious of your fellow man?”

  It was the first time he knew that Carson was aware of the Mexico inquiry, but wasn’t surprised by it. Nor that his friends called him Billy. The Old Man would have told him. Billy smiled. “Did Turgenev offer him anything?”

  “No, Turgenev did not. Just that someone must save Russia.” “Did Trepov say how Kornilov took all of this?”

  “He was interested. But he told Turgenev he wanted to hear from Kerensky, personally.”

  There was silence. Then Carson spoke again. “It sounds like Kornilov is being led into a trap, Billy. You think the Bolsheviks are behind this?”

  “I think they want to stop Kornilov. Certainly the Germans do. But no, I think Kerensky is going to try to kill two birds with one stone. He’s going to nail Kornilov for treason and put himself in a strong position when he’s got to deal with the Bolsheviks.”

  “We have to get to Kornilov, Billy. ‘Course, if he’s fool enough to fall for this, maybe he shouldn’t lead. The trouble with that is once he falls, no one else will stand a chance. This is it.”

  “Mr. Carson, we need that packet.”

  ---

  There were few lights in the Winter Palace. They could see the sentries under the lamps that circled the building. Dark for almost two hours, the moon behind the clouds illuminated the great black thunderclouds moving from the west. In the distance, the three could see the lightning bolts, then waited for the sounds of the thunder to reach them. They stayed close to the building, behind the shrubs that screened them from the sentries who marched across the entrance. As a sentry moved past, they dashed for the opening under the great stairs. Reaching cover, the rain became heavier, covering the sounds of their movements. Anna reached inside her pocket, inserted the key into the lock, then opened it quickly and disappeared inside. Billy and Carson followed. Pitch dark inside, they waited until their eyes grew accustomed to the dark. They listened for any sounds above them. It was quiet.

  Kerensky’s offices were two stories above them. To reach them, they would have to pass through lighted hallways on the first floor. The second floor, Anna knew, would be dark. Riezler had accompanied her the last time. Billy knew they had two hours to retrieve the document and make it to the train station. This would enable one of them to make it to Mogilev and Kornilov.

  Billy had reviewed the scenario he now felt positive Kerensky had created. Knowing that the Bolsheviks feared Kornilov as much as he, they would mount an all-out propaganda attack against him. Documents purporting to show plans for a coup, eyewitnesses witnessing clandestine meetings of generals and conservative politicians, evidence of favoritism toward Asians and other natives over Russians, executions of soldiers at the front. All this helped Kerensky.

  As they reached the last step before stepping onto the first floor landing, Billy was in the lead. Slowly, he scanned the great hall, trying to spot anyone who might be on the first floor.

  He knew they would be there, but where? He spotted the small office to his right. Telling the others to wait, he worked his way down the hall, keeping close to the wall, hoping the person inside would not suddenly appear. As he reached the open doorway, he stopped. He could not see the person inside from where he stood. He waited. Then he heard the soft rasp of paper sliding over paper. Then a book close. He heard the chair creak as weight was lifted from it. He cursed under his breath as he spotted it. Not three meters from him was a mirror, facing him. He could see the man now. For whatever reason, the man looked at the mirror almost at the same instant.

  He was inside the room, his revolver drawn, pointing at the chest of the startled guard.

  “Freeze,” he spoke quietly.

  He moved so that his revolver almost touched the nose of the guard, whose eyes began to cross, straining to see the end of the barrel of the .45-caliber Colt. “How many men are on this floor, Corporal?” He stared into the eyes of the young Russian. He could see the tiny beads of sweat begin to pop out on his forehead.

  “None, sir.”

  Sometimes the absurd overtakes you in strange circumstances. He thought of the likelihood of a guard accosted by someone with a revolver telling the truth. Unless his life depended on it. Billy unsheathed the blue steel hunting knife and held it under the man’s chin.

  “If we’re surprised, Corporal, you will be the first to lose your life. How many?”

  “There are three others, one on each side and one in the back.” “Are they likely to come up here?”

  “No, sir.” Billy waited for more. “I’ve been here for a week, and I haven’t seen them.”

  Billy had noticed the second floor had no lights on. “Anyone upstairs?” “No, sir.”

  With that, Billy stepped to the side and motioned the guard to walk in front of him. As he appeared with the guard and started up the stairs to the second story, Anna and Carson followed. Anna moved quickly to her left where the suite was located. Wasting no time, she pulled out her keys and quickly entered. Once inside the suite, Carson turned on his torch. Billy told the guard to sit.

  Anna was gone inside the office with Carson. They were there no more than three minutes when they returned with the packet Anna had recognized. With Anna holding the torch, Carson opened it. He started to read then began leafing through the pages.

  “These are plans like the ones Kornilov told the captain he saw. Lenin and Trotsky have their signatures all over these documents. Turgenev told Kornilov he couldn’t leave them because he had to get them back inside Kshesinskaya before their offices opened this morning.”

  “Forgeries,” Billy said. Carson nodded.

  Carson put the documents back in the packet. “Let’s hope our luck holds.”

  Billy heard it first and froze. He saw Carson reach for his revolver. Anna began to whimper softly. All three moved into Kerensky’s office, motioning the guard with them. They could hear the shouts now. They were growing louder.

  ---

  The news Turgenev carried had shocked the me
ssenger. Like all important men in Petrograd, he had his own network of persons to keep him apprised of what was happening. The network extended from the monarchists to the Bolsheviks, many paid for their services. Why had he not heard of the demonstrations and military operations planned three days from now? Alexander Feodorovich had handed him the packet, explaining that he should read it thoroughly before giving it to the general. What he read did not touch upon the world he thought he knew. For a brief moment, he thought of challenging his friend. How could this be, Alexander Feodorovich? But he trusted him. Such news would shake Russia’s foundations. Kornilov, he had no doubt, would bring his army into Petrograd.

  They had chosen a different village. When Turgenev arrived with his escort, the village was dark, but for a light in the house at the far end of the street. A single horse tied to a porch post. The horse, the sweat glistening on its sides, raised its proud head to look at the new arrivals. Turgenev could not see the Turkomans in the shadows watching the three men as they dismounted.

  “General Kornilov, the prime minister sends his greetings.” “Why have I not heard from him, Dmitri Karlovich?”

  “He asked that you be available at your telegraph at eight tomorrow evening.

  He cannot meet you face-to-face because of this.”

  Turgenev handed the packet to Kornilov and watched the eyes of the general, as they darted over the one-page memorandum. Then he looked at Turgenev.

  “Perhaps, Dmitri Karlovich, we can settle this matter once and for all and get on with the matter of protecting Mother Russia. I have arranged for a train to take you within five kilometers of Petrograd where an escort will be provided to get you back.”

  Turgenev stood and looked at the man in front of him. He knew that Alexander Feodorovich did not trust this man. He had not sensed the deceit and ambition that his friend claimed the general possessed. No matter, he was grateful the prime minister had risen above his feeling for the good of Russia.