Endgame (The Red Gambit Series Book 7)

by Colin Gee

  Kaganovich was in a playful mood.

  “I’m never sure if the camel lovers can tell a Spitfire from a Seagull.”

  She passed across the cover sheet with its summary of the increase in air power in the region.

  “They report more heavy bombers and more fighters, and you’ll see they seem to be able to at least count engines. As I said, Comrade General, I’ve only just got this but at first sight, it seems like they’re reporting American B-29s and British Lancasters… the fighters could be anything of course… except the twin hulls… most likely the Mustang upgrade... long range escort… very long range.”

  “Your thoughts, Tatiana?”

  “Clearly they intend to expand their air operations out of Persia. I think I’d be looking at our facilities within range of their bases… with the intention of improving our defences, Comrade Polkovnik General.”

  Inside, Kaganovich was debating whether or not to reveal the report that had arrived with Beria the previous day, but he elected to keep it secret for the moment, solely for his own purposes.

  Nazarbayeva continued, oblivious to Kaganovich’s internal debate.

  “The atomic research facility is clearly in range, but there’s no indication that its location and purpose have been detected.”

  Kaganovich knew better and reversed his decision, immediately seeing the advantage.

  “The Allies have performed an overflight of the facility on the Volga.”

  “The atomic research facility?”

  “Yes, Comrade General. But it would appear that they tried to hide it within a bombing mission.”

  “How do we know this?”

  “Red Air Force reports from an engaging interceptor pilot. He recognised the aircraft as a photoreconnaissance craft… apparently by the artwork on it… a naked woman by all accounts. Anyway, he had previously engaged it without success on three occasions.”

  Nazarbayeva nodded her understanding and yet…

  “But how could he know it was photographing Camp 1001?”

  Kaganovich read the section again to remind himself of the facts.

  “The attacking force was heading for Stalingrad, but they split into five distinct groups, each covered by fighter regiments. He engaged the group that flew directly over Camp 1001, despite the fact that it was protected by the largest number of fighters… the group contained the naked woman aircraft, which turned back after it had just passed Akhtubinsk, streaming smoke and accompanied by six fighters… all of its own accord.”

  She frowned.

  He read more.

  “The pilot could not engage the aircraft… and has stated that, in fact, no one engaged it… and yet it turned back, seemingly damaged.”

  “So you think they know what’s there, Comrade Polkovnik General?”

  “Decidedly likely. They’ve overflown the area before. NKVD’s Southern Office was very thorough and included the previous definite and possible overflights…there are six in all. Two by photographic aircraft for certain, and four that could have been bombing missions against Akhtubinsk and Stalingrad, possibly contrived to overfly to conceal the purpose… and five of them have been flown since the beginning of March.”

  “What? And you learn of this now?”

  “Yes. Bear in mind that as far as most in NKVD South are concerned, Camp 1001 is simply Camp 1001, and any mission to photograph it wouldn’t normally draw a special report. Secrecy comes with complications sometimes, as we both know. It’s only come to my attention now because of a request for information issued by Air Commander South, based on the intelligence he received on curious air operations being conducted in Persia.”

  That there were NKVD agents entrenched in all areas of Southern Command did not need saying.

  She sipped at her drink and considered the problem.

  “So, I assume you’ve decided on a course of action, Comrade Polkovnik General?”

  “Yes. I intend to report what I suspect to Comrade Beria and give my recommendations.”

  “May I ask what they might be, Comrade General?”

  “Yes, Tatiana. I consider it wise to relocate the hardware and processes at Camp 100. I intend to recommend that to the GKO shortly.”

  “Hardware?”

  “Most of our weapons are there.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Our atomic weapons… most of them are there.”

  “Most?”

  “Some have already left for air bases.”

  “Mother of God. We have weapons already? We’re deploying them already? You feed me information in drips, Comrade Polkovnik General!”

  “Yes… I’m sorry… I told you the Japanese assistance made us advance… we have weaponised the material.”

  “So we have atomic weapons… and they plan to use them? Are they mad? Our enemy’s more advanced than us, surely? If we use such weapons, then they will most certainly use them on us. There will be no end… chemical, biological, atomic… we’ll transform this world and nothing will ever be the same!”

  “Yes, Tatiana, that’s our fear… I mean… the fear of those of us who can see this future if we do not stop this now… although an asset within their own programme has the Allies with no more than six devices… which I believe our leadership thinks we can easily endure... and our capacity to strike back is, in many ways, superior.”

  “Easily endure… easily endure?”

  ‘Are they fucking totally mad?’

  Nazarbayeva saw untold horrors in her mind, her vivid imagination throwing up images of a ravaged world in which nothing was the same, and everything was destroyed.

  “What do you suggest, Comrade Polkovnik General?”

  “Nothing at the moment, but I’ll talk to the others immediately…”

  “But I have to tell the leadership of this…”

  Kaganovich had played his hand well.

  “Yes… yes you must…I’ll speak to the others whilst you are apprising the GKO… I’ll contact you later.”

  There was no opportunity to discuss the instructions she had received from Khrushchev.

  1934 hrs, Saturday, 5th April 1947, the Kremlin, Moscow, USSR.

  She had delivered her normal briefing to the GKO and then sought a further session for Stalin’s ears only.

  Of course, that meant Stalin and Beria.

  Beria shifted uncomfortably as she delivered her information hot from Kaganovich’s office, whereas the dictator listened impassively.

  “Thank you, Comrade Leytenant General.”

  She was surprised at the control shown by both men, given her knowledge of what Camp 1001 represented.

  It was Beria that spoke up first, although his keenness to understand how the bitch had got hold of NKVD information was immediately dampened by the certainty that it was Kaganovich.

  He would find out later from those who watched his deputy like a hawk.

  “So, the Southern Command has caught wind of some sort of secret operation being run out of Persia… we’ve increased numbers of enemy aircraft in the area… and we’ve evidence of overflights to sensitive facilities of great importance to the Motherland.”

  “Yes, Comrade Marshal.”

  “Moving our research facility is no small thing, and yet you would still recommend moving it, Comrade General?”

  “Yes, Comrade General Secretary, I would.”

  “Thank you for your briefing, Comrade General Nazarbayeva. I will speak to the Ministry shortly. Thank you.”

  The two men said no more, their silence a way of terminating the meeting, leaving Nazarbayev to salute and leave the meeting room.

  They waited in silence until the door closed.

  Stalin spoke first.

  “How long?”

  “I’ve no idea… but the break in production would impact greatly… and transporting everything would need time to arrange.”

  “But if she’s right?”

  Beria took a moment to think about it.

  “If she’s right, then we ris
k losing everything… equipment… material… expertise… everything, Comrade General Secretary.”

  “We’ve no choice then, Lavrentiy.”

  “I agree, Comrade General Secretary.”

  “Forty-eight hours?”

  “According to the emergency planning, the facility can be stripped down in thirty-six hours, but there will be complications due to the haste…”

  “Thirty-six it is then… no more… I have an idea…”

  ‘An idea? Mudaks! I’ll mark it in my fucking diary!’

  Stalin continued, oblivious to his henchman’s thoughts.

  “An accident.”

  “Accident?”

  “If the Allies know it’s there, then an accident would allay their concerns, will it not?”

  “Ah, yes… I see, Comrade General Secretary... I see exactly what you mean… especially if we accompany it with some extra dressing…”

  Stalin smiled.

  It was not pleasant, but then it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Yes… yes… “

  Stalin started to sketch out the barebones of his idea on paper, whilst Beria was already well ahead of him in his mind.

  “Comrade General Secretary… perhaps I might suggest broadening the plan a little.”

  It took the head of the NKVD less than two minutes to explain what his distorted mind had just devised.

  “The Ukraine, Lavrentiy?”

  “What have we got to lose, Comrade General Secretary?”

  “Why not throw in the fucking Balts too then?”

  Beria shrugged.

  “Why not? Why stop there, Comrade General Secretary?”

  Beria reeled off a few more names.

  It took Stalin less than twenty seconds to agree.

  A total of less than three minutes to arrive at a monstrous decision… less than three minutes that condemned a million people to death.

  The messenger had caught up with Nazarbayeva just before she entered her car, just in time to deflect her to the Grand Park, where Kaganovich was taking a constitutional.

  “Comrade Polkovnik General. You wanted to speak with me?”

  “Indeed I do, Comrade Nazarbayeva. Your meeting went well?”

  She passed on her version of events, which pretty much tallied with his own, except for the part where the three of them had been alone.

  Kaganovich listened intently, factoring in the decisions already made by the others.

  Nazarbayeva finished up with a bombshell.

  “I did not hear what they said when I left the room, but I felt… think… no, sensed that I may have started a process.”

  “Female intuition, Comrade Nazarbayeva?”

  “You may call it that… but I felt it as very real.”

  Kaganovich hung back from derision and instead relied on respecting the woman’s instincts and basic intelligence.

  “I’ll bear that in mind and you may well be right. We want you to do something for the Motherland… something that’ll be difficult to understand, I expect… but the Rodina will profit from it.”

  Nazarbayeva stumbled on a stone as she gave Kaganovich her full attention.

  “You know the line I won’t cross, Comrade Polkovnik General.”

  “Yes… I do… we do. I understand that Comrade Khrushchev’s ears gave you a request?”

  Nazarbayeva’s eyes narrowed.

  “Yes, she did, Comrade General.”

  “And did you bring it?”

  Her gripped instinctively tightened on her briefcase.

  “Yes.”

  “Good… then here is what you must do.”

  She listened.

  She stopped in her tracks.

  She said no… and no again…

  Kaganovich explained the decision fully, understanding her knee-jerk reaction to such an action… as she put it ‘betrayal’, but he showed her how, in reality, it served the Motherland, however unsavoury it might appear.

  When they parted, he returned to report that Nazarbayeva was committed to her part in their desperate plan.

  At 2011 hrs on Saturday, 5th April 1947, the Knockes were delivered of a son.

  Whether the newborn Jürgen Georges Knocke had a living father was still unknown.

  The end is nigh…

  List of Figures within Endgame.

  Fig # 1[rev] – Table of comparative ranks.

  Fig # 1a - List of Military map icons.

  Fig # 223 - List of important locations within Endgame.

  Fig # 224 - Important locations in Southern USSR.

  Fig # 225 - Areas around the Neman River, Lithuania.

  Fig # 226 - Reorganised Legion Corps D’Assaut, December 1946.

  Fig # 227 - Demarcation lines in Europe as of 15th March 1947

  Fig # 228 - US Forces engaged at the Schönbrunn Palace.

  Fig # 229 - Soviet Forces engaged at the Schönbrunn Palace.

  Fig # 230 - The Schönbrunn Palace Gardens, Vienna, Austria.

  Fig # 231 - US Forces engaged at Veľký Saris.

  Fig # 232 Soviet forces engaged at Veľký Saris.

  Fig # 233 - Vel’ky Saris, Czechoslovakia.

  Fig # 234 - Seirijai, Lithuania.

  Fig # 235 - Polish Forces engaged at Seirijai, Lithuania.

  Fig # 236 - Soviet forces engaged at Seirijai, Lithuania.

  Fig # 237 - Old Man’s Nose, Seirijai, Lithuania.

  Fig # 238 - Soviet forces, Koprzywianka River, Poland.

  Fig # 239 - Allied forces, KOPRZYWIANKA River, Poland.

  Fig # 240 - The battleground, Koprzywianka River, Poland.

  Fig # 241 - Legion Corps D’Assaut radio call signs.

  Fig # 242 - Braun’s manoeuvre, the Koprzywianka River, Poland.

  Fig # 243 - 1er Bataillon Chars Léger at Sulisɫawice.

  Fig # 245 - Sulisɫawice, Poland.

  Author’s note on the Auschwitz section.

  When I first decided to take on the particular section dealing with the ex-SS and their time at Auschwitz, I understood that it would have to be done in such a way as to properly represent the matters I wished to raise.

  I also knew that whatever I wrote, some would find it distasteful or even derogatory. As you can see, that did not stop me from trying to write about the issues.

  When I first stood in the middle of Auschwitz-II Birkenau some years ago, I was amazed to feel nothing in the place. I wrote at the time that it was as if the whole area had surrendered every essence of its being, every last measure of emotion, and that it had seemed to have been left with nothing whatsoever, a vacuum into which you could bring every part of your imagination.

  Truly, I have never been in such an empty place in my life, and I have been to other dark places such as Malmedy, Wormhoudt, Natzwiller-Struthof, Mauthausen, and Nordhausen.

  To tackle the enormity of such a place is decidedly beyond my skills as a writer, but I so wanted to try to impart that feeling to the reader.

  I chose to do so in a different way, by incorporating it in a story where the ex-SS come to a place synonymous with themselves and the victims of the regime they both represented and fought for.

  Anyone with the slightest knowledge on the subject, and certainly myself, knows enough about the SS to know that the force contained some of the vilest beings ever to darken the planet, individuals who should have been exterminated long before they got into a position from where they could impact other’s lives so terribly.

  I also know that many of them were through and through Nazis, or whatever that represented for them at the time. We now apply the label of ‘Nazi’ in a different way, in many ways making it synonymous with the camps, and I am directly aware that some of those who joined the party had absolutely no idea of what it would finally come to represent, and what its full and horrible agenda was.

  In other words, what they joined was not what it became, and their continued membership of it, given the likely consequences of trying to leave, is something we can probably all understand but not nece
ssarily condone.

  My point on the enormity just being too much to contemplate is quite valid. For quite some time, even the Allies refused to believe the stories of mass killings and genocide that slowly started to emerge, considering them beyond possible.

  How wrong they were.

  The defence of ‘just obeying orders’ holds no water for me. I never ever followed an order I considered incorrect or wrong, although in my career they were rarely life-changing orders, and then also rarely was my life involved.

  However, I did want to expose that ‘defence’ for what I consider it to be; a weak man’s solution.

  But I also wanted to bring to mind the alternative.

  It is my fondest hope that, were I positioned as Bach was in the book, or thousands of others during the war itself, then I would have had the moral courage and conviction to place what is right and my code of honour above my own well-being, and that I would have refused to enact orders that brought about such suffering and death.

  But, in honesty, I am in the closing years of my life, and such decisions are made more cheaply than when in the flower of youth or of recently acquired manhood.

  I, like most people, have absolutely no idea what I would have done had I been so placed.

  Hopefully, this chapter will promote that debate within the reader, although you will find no certain answers; of that I’m sure.

  What I set out to achieve was firstly to put over some idea of the awfulness of Auschwitz and Birkenau.

  Secondly, I wanted to highlight that the common impression of the SS, that being that all were guilty of the crimes of the camps. Absolutely, all were guilty by association, by wearing the uniform, but many members of the Waffen-SS, and I make the distinction Waffen-SS, were not aware of the horrors conducted by the regime for which they fought so bravely.

  To some, that makes me an SS apologist. I do not see it that way; I might be wrong but I don’t think so. I would certainly consider myself one who is armed with enough information to know that the SS contained both good and bad men, and also that I possess enough impartiality to understand and represent that view openly.