He glanced at the Udehe. “That’s a good man. Keep him around. We will need him.”
He slapped his thigh with his gloves. “The question is, where did he go? Where is he now?”
“Colonel Zamatev is inclined to think the fugitive is trying to retrace the old route his people may have taken when they migrated over the Bering Strait to America, That would mean he’s going northeast.”
“It would, indeed.” Rukovsky slapped his leg again. “But northeast of here is the Kolyma. A hard river to cross and well guarded. You say this man was a major in the American air force? Then he will be intelligent as well as a good woodsman. I suggest he went west.”
“West, sir?”
“West, of course. The Kolyma is well guarded. If he goes further east he restricts his arc of movement. You say he is a man accustomed to the wilderness. Very well, he will go west. He will try to lose himself in the mountains.”
“Do you suppose he knows our country that well?”
“We must suppose he does. One thing, Lieutenant, never underestimate an enemy!”
“I shall have to communicate with Colonel Zamatev.”
“By all means!” Rukovsky agreed. “Tell him I am prepared to cooperate to the fullest. The man interests me, and I’d like to be present when he is taken.”
Suvarov hesitated, and then tentatively he suggested, “There are others in the field, sir. Comrade Shepilov wants him also, wants him first.”
“Shepilov?” Rukovsky’s face was bland. “Of course! But Colonel Zamatev is GRU is he not? I have every admiration for Comrade Shepilov and wish him success, but we in the military, we must work together, must we not?”
Rukovsky looked toward the soldier; the Udehe was waiting. “Let’s get that man seeking out the trail, Suvarov. He seems to be a good man on a trail.”
“Yes, sir. Comrade Alekhin is in the field, too, sir.”
“Alekhin? And where is he?”
“Nobody knows but Alekhin and perhaps Colonel Zamatev. He reports only to him, but I do know he is very anxious to be the one who takes the American. There is something personal between them.”
“How could that be?”
Suvarov explained about the brief meeting shortly after the American was first taken.
At the car Colonel Rukovsky got out his maps. “Suvarov? Let’s recall our men and transport them west. Let us make a base of Oymyakon.” He folded the map. “He covers country, this American. How does he do it?”
“He is an Indian. Some of them are said to be great runners. The man was an athlete.”
“Come, Lieutenant, let’s move.” He turned and glanced at Suvarov. “Let’s make this an army operation, Lieutenant. I’ve flown over those mountains and know them a little. We will take him ourselves.”
“Colonel Zamatev will appreciate your cooperation.”
“He shall have it. This American of yours intrigues me. I’d like to take him.” He paused, making room for Suvarov to get into the car. “Shepilov, is it? A very capable man, Lieutenant, but never very friendly to the army. Never friendly at all.”
On a rocky point under some low-growing, wind-torn spruce, Joe Mack squatted on his heels looking down the valley. At the distance he could see very little, only that the soldiers were being recalled. He had seen the car, even heard it in the cold air.
An officer, probably, a commanding officer taking his men from the field.
Why?
He had eluded them. Had they discovered how? The Russians were good players of chess, and now they contemplated another move. There must be a reason for suddenly leaving the field. They would not be quitting the chase, so they must be changing direction. Had they guessed what he was attempting?
When he got where he was going, would they be there, waiting?
Thirty-One
Now coldly blew the winds, icy blasts from beyond the Arctic Circle. In the small house above Plastun Bay, Stephan Baronas spent much of his time seeking wood in the forest. Here along the Sea of Japan the snow sometimes fell until it was several feet deep.
He came in from the cold, stamping his feet. “It is cold,” he said, coming up to the fire. “If this lasts another day I must go to the village for food.”
“I will go.”
“The snow is deep, Talya.”
“I am strong, and much younger than you.” She seated herself on the hearth. “I wonder where he is?”
Baronas shook his head. “He is out there; that is all we know except that they do not seem to have caught him. As you know, word gets around. Somebody whispers something and it is passed on, person to person. The trouble is that by the time it reaches us it may be much changed.”
“What did you hear?”
“It was just before the storm began. I was down on the shore looking for driftwood. There was a fisherman I know, just down from Magadan, where he sold his catch. The word is they are organizing a search by trappers and hunters, men who know the country.”
“Father? Must we wait?”
“Wait? You mean for whatever Bocharev can do? We must. What he can do I do not know, but certainly more than anyone else. Who cares about us? He seems to because of his son. That feeling may pass, and it might be impossible even for him.”
“Can we not at least try? That other man? The trader in furs? You suspected he might be arranging to get away over the border? He might take us.”
Baronas shook his head. “Zhikarev is a good man but he owes us nothing. Moreover, he will have enough trouble trying to arrange things for himself. My feeling was that he expected to get right away and something went wrong.”
“The border is not far, and I am afraid.”
“You? You have never been afraid, Talya.”
“They might try to use me to capture him.” Her eyes were large with worry and fear. “It has come to me in the night. They will do anything to capture him.”
“But how would he know? If they took us now, how would they get word to him? It is impossible. You worry needlessly.”
“How much longer can we stay here? When spring comes, we can no longer have the house.”
He had been thinking of that and shied from the thought. This place, however small and lonely it might be, was snug and warm. It was a refuge, a hiding place from all that crowded about outside. Little as it was, he hated to give up these days of peace. The place was cozy, the view beautiful, and there were no passersby to alert the authorities.
He dreaded another trek across country and the problems of protecting his daughter. So far he had succeeded, but there were bands of young renegades, “hooligans” the law called them, and he was no fighting man. He would soon be seventy and had grown more fragile with the years, although since coming to live in the taiga his health had been better and he was stronger. The north country did not tolerate many germs, and the air was better. They were far from factories and the effects of smokestacks and power lines.
“We must think about it, Talya. I agree we must have an alternative plan if Bocharev forgets or can do nothing. I agree that we must leave, for it is only a matter of time until they descend upon us again.
“We are free now only because they are busy with other things. They have, as the saying is, bigger fish to fry. If they want us, they will have us.
“I think we should make plans now; when this snow is gone, then we can move.”
To where? He asked himself this question. The closest point on the Chinese border was beyond Voroshilov. He did not know the towns but must get out his maps and study them. Iman might be better, although farther. There might be fewer people about.
He put on his heavy coat and went out again to gather fuel. It was a never-ending struggle against the cold. Had he been here earlier he would have stacked wood for the winter, but there had been no chance of that.
He walked up into the huge trees in the grove behind the cabin. It was silent there, like walking in a huge cathedral or the temple at Luxor, of which he had seen pictures. It was a good place to think.
Natalya was right, of course. They must not delay. How to get across the border he had no idea. All they could do was get close and study the alternatives. Knowing the thoroughness of the KGB, his only wonder was that they had not already been picked up and interrogated.
Their very presence on this coast was enough to arouse suspicion.
Thoughtfully, be began reviewing all he had learned from the young soldiers during their visits. They had talked a good bit about the borders and their duties, partly to impress Natalya and himself with the importance of what they were doing. This was expected of young men, and their experiences had been interesting as well as informative. Although there were places where troops facing each other verged on outright hostility, there were others where food was exchanged and clothing traded back and forth. At such a point, there might be tolerance unfound elsewhere.