Endgame (The Red Gambit Series Book 7)

by Colin Gee

  She checked her notes before continuing, not fully understanding that she had just scored a major point on Beria, who was now silently seething.

  “A GRU asset in Antwerp has confirmed that the new dock facilities are operational, and have seen the passage of a large number of weapons and vehicles in the last two weeks…”

  Stalin and Beria both said nothing, but their looks were sufficient to give her a moment’s pause.

  “I investigated the matter, Comrade General Secretary. Apparently, my agent’s house was occupied by some enemy troops and so communicating was a problem, hence the delay.”

  A nod drew a line under the matter.

  “It has been difficult to establish exactly what the types of vehicles were. My agent was familiar with the M-46 Pershing II and Super Pershing types, and reported that these were not of either of those vehicles, but much larger and heavier. My intelligence interpretation section have concluded that the new influx of in excess of ninety vehicles, based upon the best description my agent could supply, are almost certainly either or both of the rumoured super heavy tanks, the M-29 Chamberlain or M-30 Hancock.”

  Again Beria steamed as Stalin shot him a piercing look, surrounded by a mocking smile, as both men knew that the recent NKVD report had all but committed itself to stating that the M-29 and M-30 were drawing board warriors, and no imminent threat to the balance of power.

  “We must thank the GRU for being so efficient whilst your own service is crippled by the Allied codebreaking efforts, eh Lavrentiy?”

  The contemptuous tone was apparent to both Beria and Nazarbayeva, and the NKVD Marshal blushed noticeably.

  At least his own force had discovered that the damned Allied codebreakers were reading NKVD codes. Had the GRU discovered it, the humiliation would have been total.

  “Indeed, Comrade Secretary. Our communications have been badly hurt by this discovery… but better my men found out about the problem than the damned Allies discovered our inner secrets.”

  Stalin had pressed Beria for a long time over whether any aspect of Raduga could be compromised.

  He had staked his reputation on that not being the case, and no one ‘in the know’ thought it was simply his reputation that rested on him being absolutely correct.

  Stalin moved on.

  “So, Comrade General… what’s your view of these new arrivals… combined with the reports from Southern France, Portugal, and Italy?”

  As usual, Nazarbayeva had an opinion and ventured it immediately.

  “I see nothing really hostile here, Comrade General Secretary. If my department and the NKVD are correct, we are actually seeing a large reduction in Amerikanski forces, certainly in terms of numbers. I suspect that we’ll see more and more units returning to their various homelands in the near future. Only one Brazilian unit remains… the Spanish have returned four full divisions to the Pyrenees for conversion training to Amerikanski equipment, and two more divisions have returned to Spain as garrison troops.”

  She took a sip of the water and continued.

  “Yes, we are seeing some increases in their order of battle. The Dutch, Belgians, French, and Danes have all put extra forces into the field, armed with equipment handed over by units already back in their homelands. Of course, the Germans are increasing the most, but we know that this is being encouraged to permit more Amerikanski, British, and Commonwealth forces to return home.”

  “And yet there’s something that holds you back from making full assurances… some gap in your information maybe…. or some female intuition we are not yet informed of?”

  “You are correct, Comrade General Secretary. There’s something that concerns me greatly in all this.”

  It was Stalin’s turn to take a drink, and he sipped his tea deliberately slowly as he took in the woman’s face.

  “Is it the reorganisation of the Red Army?”

  “No, Comrade General Secretary. The reasons for that are sound and will profit the Motherland greatly. No, it’s something else entirely.”

  “Proceed, Comrade General.”

  “Whilst the manpower of the enemy forces in Europe and the Pacific has reduced, we see a focussing of his existing eastern manpower, specifically concentrating in China, Manchuria, and Korea… the garrison of Japan apart.”

  “And that poses a threat… this we know, Comrade Nazarbayeva.”

  Beria’s interruption drew no response as the GRU officer simply continued as if his words had not been spoken.

  “Our forces in the east were reduced by the needs of the west, dangerously so… this we can now see and have acknowledged… a risk that the GKO considered acceptable at the time. Again, across the borders of China and the east, the enemy seemingly displays no hostile intent, and continues to scale down his manpower… but there is the issue that causes me concern. We have an imbalance of forces in Persia and the Pacific, one that is greatest in the east.”

  The anticipated interruption didn’t come and the uncomfortable vacuum drew her into its embrace.

  “It’s a question of quality… across the board… the Allies have made technological advances and these are now in place across the battlefield and above it.”

  “Our own tanks… the IS-III, IV, and VII… the T-54 maybe… now seem to be equalled or even bettered by new arrivals.”

  She counted points off on her fingers as she recited the concerns one by one.

  “Super Pershing… Pershing II… Chamberlain… Hancock… Centurion… Black Panther… and that’s just in tanks.”

  She consulted her notes before continuing.

  “They have new bombers… the B-29 used in the Pacific now arrives in numbers, and the improved B-50 version has started to trickle across the ocean.”

  “Their new fighters…the Amerikanski’s Shooting Star and Thunderjet fill over half the US fighter regiments… and the damned Skyraider aircraft that hurt our ground forces so badly has increased from ten regiments to twenty-seven at least… at least… and the Amerikanski are producing enough to let the Royal Air Force and Luftwaffe have some of their own. That tells us a lot, of course. The British have the new Lancaster, and their own jet fighters have trebled in numbers since the ceasefire.”

  “Even the new British piston engine aircraft are extremely formidable opponents, as we discovered near Estonia.”

  Nazarbayeva referred to an incident involving the new RAF twin-engine fighter, the Hornet, three of which ran rings around a full regiment of the latest La-9 fighters.

  No shots had been fired but the De Havilland aircraft had appeared to be superior to the latest Lavochkin across the board, as the reports of the humiliated regimental commander and his pilots indicated.

  ‘And yet your report made no mention of these issues, Comrade Beria!’

  Her thoughts transferred to action, and Nazarbayeva indicated Beria with a gesture that she didn’t mean to be dismissive.

  “The NKVD commission on our own technological advancements appears to lean towards some exaggeration, and has some glaring omissions.”

  Beria jumped to his feet but was cut off by Stalin’s raised hand.

  “Quite rightly, you need to justify that statement quickly, Comrade Nazarbayeva. The NKVD report was most thorough and was signed off by Comrade Marshal Beria himself.”

  The eyes of the man in question blazed in fury.

  “I meant no disrespect, Comrade Marshal. I apologise. What I meant was that the findings of the commission tended towards the upbeat to avoid discouraging results, which is understandable in these times of positivity and hope for the future.”

  “So… what exactly do you think has been misreported… or presented to us in too positive a fashion?”

  “Comrade General Secretary. Our tanks were at a great disadvantage towards the end of the war. We saw increased losses in tank versus tank combat, apparently due to some new type of shell, something both the NKVD and ourselves have yet to fully confirm and identify, although NKVD has made some inroads by identifying t
he name ‘HESH’.”

  She nodded to Beria in mid-sentence, as an acknowledgement of his office’s work, not as a weak attempt to curry favour, which was how the NKVD head interpreted it.

  “From survivor’s descriptions, the new shell seems to break open our tank’s own armour and send it around like shrapnel. We have not yet developed a defence, and yet the NKVD report avoids the issue and speaks only of the up armouring of existing tank types, and more spaced armour to combat their hollow-charge weaponry.”

  “We know of the powertrain improvements made to the IS-III, and they have maximised the reliability of the vehicle, its previous weak point. This is reported in the NKVD report, as well as the new installations being made in the latest T-54 production vehicles. Yet no mention is made of the problems that remain with the IS-IV and the proposal that was made to discontinue its production in favour of more reliable and mobile vehicles.”

  Stalin struck a match as he examined Beria’s reaction to the woman’s words…

  The reaction was quite plain.

  ‘…traitorous accusations! You bitch!’

  “The IS-VII is spoken of in great detail. The first experimental vehicle has proven to be more than was hoped, but it may not see service in numbers for at least another year, probably more… and yet it forms nearly two pages of the report all by itself.”

  She displayed the two pages in question.

  “Two pages for what will probably be no more than forty vehicles by this time next year.”

  She opened the folder in another pre-marked place and moved neatly to the inventory of aircraft, where glaring omissions were apparent to anyone, regardless of the upbeat nature of the NKVD commission’s report.

  “Our current aircraft are almost universally outclassed by the later marks of their existing inventory and most of new aircraft of the enemy. Even our ex-German equipment, what little we can still run, appear to offer a difficult match for the latest jet fighters of our enemy. And what do we propose now? Copies of German, Japanese, and Allied aircraft that perform in an inferior fashion, most of the time because our best fuels are unavailable or our re-engineering of their engines is unsatisfactory. These matters are hidden away quite thoroughly, whilst the performance of our own new aircraft… well…”

  She turned to a page of the NKVD report and quoted.

  “The new Lavochkin-9 is a superior piston-engine fighter at least the equal of the standard aircraft of the enemy in speed, firepower, and performance. And yet… no mention of the encounter with the enemy over the Baltic in which it proved decidedly second best, Comrade General Secretary.”

  The report was tossed to the table like a matador’s cape, and the bull in Beria prepared to gore his opponent.

  “Clearly, the La-9 is superior to all our propeller aircraft, but its opponents are changing, and it’s already outclassed by the enemy jets fighters and, as we know, some of their latest propeller craft too.”

  The human bull scraped at the ground, preparing its ‘charge’.

  “The MiG-9 continues to have problems, and no matter of revision by our engineers is having an effect. The I-250 development is a total disaster and is wasting precious assets that we could do better preserving for other projects. Our efforts, both the NKVD and my own agency, have failed to procure all the information and specifications needed to produce consistently reliable jet propulsion units, and our own engine development programme is under-performing.”

  Nazarbayeva did not have the word ‘shambles’ in her vocabulary, which would have been perfect to describe the Soviet Union’s own efforts to get a decent home-designed and engineered jet engine into an airframe.

  “OKB MiG is failing with its efforts on Allied copies, and the Lyul'ka Bureau’s TR-1 engine is presently under-performing in every department… except fuel consumption!”

  “How do you know that, woman?”

  Beria cracked.

  “How can you claim that, eh? My department’s report has access to all levels of information, plus our own intelligence. How can you claim such rubbish, eh?”

  Stalin relaxed back in his seat, content to let the two contest matters in front of him.

  “Because, Comrade Marshal, I too have access to many levels of information… such as academician’s gossip around the canteen table… such as engineering reports from the maintenance units at regimental level… or encounter reports filed by our own pilots and crews… peacetime encounters for sure, but none the less enlightening.”

  “Such claims require evidence, Comrade Nazarbayeva.”

  “I have prepared it, Comrade General Secretary.”

  Two healthy-sized documents appeared from her briefcase and made their way into the eager hands of the two senior men, eager for different reasons.

  Both Beria and Stalin were absorbed by the documents, so Nazarbayeva decided to produce three teas from the ornate samovar set against the wall to one side of the great man’s desk.

  Stalin accepted his drink without words, so intent was he on consuming the information in Nazarbayeva’s paperwork.

  “Really? Unguarded comments as evidence of our jet’s problems, Comrade General?”

  “Comrade General Secretary, I understand your reservation, but the names of those involved speaks of the importance of their words.”

  Stalin re-examined the document, seeking out the information he had clearly not comprehended.

  ‘Arkhip Lyulka… jet engine designer… Mikhail Vasilyevich Khrunichev, the Minister for Aviation?’

  “The Minister for Aviation?”

  “Yes, Comrade General Secretary. He submitted a report on the state of the TR-1, but it seems not to be reflected in the NKVD’s assessment.”

  “Comrade Marshal?”

  Beria sought a moment’s pause and resorted to polishing his glasses.

  “Comrade General Secretary. No report was received from Comrade Leytenant General Khrunichev regarding the TR-1, at least not when the commission was undertaking its assessments.”

  “Did Comrades Lyulka and Khrunichev contribute at all?”

  Both Beria and Nazarbayeva checked the list of names in appendix four, and both failed to find either man’s name present.

  Nazarbayeva stayed silent, leaving Beria to announce his own failure.

  “No, Comrade General Secretary.”

  “No, Lavrentiy?”

  Stalin tossed his copy of the NKVD report across the table towards his henchman, and followed it with the GRU assessment.

  “I want your commission to crawl back into this mess and produce a report that tells the GKO… tells me… exactly what the situation is. Can your department manage that… or shall I task the GRU to do it for me, eh Lavrentiy? Eh?”

  Beria considered dignified silence was a suitable response and simply nodded, unsure which of the two creatures present he detested the most.

  Stalin decided to push the matter further, increasing Beria’s feelings of resentment and humiliation, both of which made bad bedfellows to his more common traits of cunning, scheming, and violent resolution.

  “Perhaps you should start immediately, Comrade Marshal?”

  The gesture towards the door was made dismissively, as Stalin intended, in order to reinforce his unhappiness with Beria.

  Nazarbayeva nodded to the NKVD commander with as blank a face as she could manage, but he still managed to see some sort of triumph, some celebration, some satisfaction in her eyes.

  His dismissal did not sit well, neither did his interpretation of the woman’s face, and the man who left the room silently vowed revenge upon those he left behind.

  “Thank you for your report, Comrade Nazarbayeva.”

  “It was necessary to ensure you and the GKO were not misled, Comrade General Secretary.”

  Stalin nodded and stood up but waved the woman back into her seat when she started to respond.

  “Comrade Beria is efficient, but he sometimes can be guilty of telling us what we want to hear. I shall always rely on you to p
resent the truth, no matter what form it may take.”

  “In his defence, he has many duties, Comrade General Secretary, so he must rely on those under him to produce efficient and truthful reports.”

  Stalin chuckled.

  “Don’t we all, Comrade… don’t we all…”

  He considered some new thought for a moment and then almost imperceptibly nodded to himself as the decision was silently made.

  “I shall create a new commission, one drawn from not just the NKVD, for the purpose of overseeing and appreciating our technical challenges, progress, and comparisons with the Allied forces.”

  He returned to his seat and drained the last of his tea.

  “I’ll speak to Polkovnik General Kuznetsov and have him appoint someone from the GRU immediately. Whoever it is, make sure you feed your information directly to them. That way you may make yourself less of an enemy to Comrade Beria.”

  Nazarbayeva opened her mouth to protest but was cut short by a wagging finger.

  “Oh yes, Tatiana Sergievna Nazarbayeva, he considers you his enemy… and today’s display has made that more clear in his mind. You humiliated him…”

  The hand stopped her objection in an instant.

  “I know… I know… you serve the Rodina and the Party to the best of your ability, but what he saw today was a GRU officer tell him he was wrong and make play of it in front of his boss. Don’t stop telling me the truth… ever… but be more wary, Comrade. That’s my advice on the matter. Now, I’ve a meeting to chair.”

  He stood and fished in the top drawer of his desk as Nazarbayeva came to attention, ready to take her leave.

  “Comrade, you serve the Rodina and Party to the absolute best of your ability. I commend you for it, Leytenant General Nazarbayeva.”

  The words penetrated her brain instantly and she saluted smartly.

  “Thank you, Comrade General Secretary.”

  He handed over the insignia of a Lieutenant General with a smile that conveyed real warmth.