could not be trusted, but her best option at that moment was to remain subdued even as they both seethed under the surface. Any wrong move and the snake would strike!
She explained that her judgment suggested that the gold remained on the Trans-Siberia rail line after Kolchak was taken prisoner and all the Russian guards killed. There was no evidence supporting the myths regarding the lake route, nor evidence that it was discovered by the Czechs. They had Kolchak, the big prize, with no reason to care about anything else. There was no knowledge at that time that he’d taken the gold with him. The Bolsheviks wanted him captured more than anyone in the empire. There was nothing else of importance to the Czech Legion, having him for exchange with the Reds.
The America Army, charged with protecting the train and cargo did not engage in any sort of action. The Czech soldiers would have looted everything if allowed, and the Americans would have fought to protect the cargo and train. There was no such action according to the online records she had examined from the Army Expeditionary Force in Russia. The 7th Brigade was guarding the train.
“So, what do you do next?” He was impressed with her logic.
“We know the train was bound for Vladivostok on the coast near Japan.”
“I know where Vladivostok is.” His sarcasm was upsetting, but no more so than every other characteristic of the man.
“From the time of the Great War, Vladivostok was the main shipping location for materials coming and going from America and Japan. I must find evidence regarding shipments made from the port after the train arrived. The American Army was leaving Russia immediately after Kolchak was taken. The Bolsheviks had defeated the White Army by that time, and all the neutral military groups from America, Japan and England left Russia as quickly as possible, taking their supplies with them.”
“Would they leave the gold sitting in some warehouse?”
“No, very unlikely, but they may not have known what the Russian cargo contained. It was undoubtedly mislabeled to fool people, but there is no historic record of any great wealth emerging from anywhere in the world around this time. If it had been discovered, it would be impossible to hide that fact. It most certainly left the country.
“Even if it did not appear to be valuable, there would be tons of materials in many crates. The military could overlook such large quantities as part of their massive stores of supplies to be removed. Their manifests were not precise. The gold was probably loaded aboard transport ships unnoticed with tons of equipment and supplies, then shipped to Japan or America with their soldiers.”
He looked at her, still figuring how to eliminate her professor friend, “That is very insightful, Karina. I commend your work. Now you must find the destination of those war materials.”
“It was a long time ago, Gregor. Records have been destroyed or lost in many places, and I might need to go to America to research old paper records that were never copied.”
“Why not Japan, too?”
“First, I think we need to follow the Americans; they departed soon after the train arrived at the port. The cargo of the train had been under their complete control, them alone, after Kolchak and his men were taken. I believe they are the best choice to find the gold. If not there, then Japan.”
“I agree. Please let me know when you will go to America. I will arrange private transportation.” He was already deciding how to assure that she came back.
The meeting ended as coldly as it began. She knew the man had no morals, no scruples, no compassion; she could not escape his evil intentions, there was no way.
That evening, Evan called as usual, using his secure phone. He had reached an accord with Peter Mikhailovich that would help insure their safety from her client, Gregori Jelavich, but it would be perilous. There were no guarantees that either of them would be safe anymore, but he had some limited safety. The phone rang several times, without answer. He tried twice more with the same result. He knew her routine; he knew she would be home now.
Evan worried. Disregarding threats from Jelavich, he needed to know she was safe. He raced for the Metro, disregarding anyone who might be watching. It was dark, cold, sleeting and crowded at the station, with people coming in and out constantly; he was difficult to spot if anyone was watching. The rail cars were still running at frequent intervals early in the evening. The doors were closing as he ran down the stairs and jumped aboard. The ride to her station seemed to take an eternity.
He exited with several other riders, trying to remain obscure, blending with the masses. It was dark and he was hidden in shadows once outside. He still had the phone with him, but had no other plan. He needed to be near her. He could be endangering her by his presence. He didn’t intend to rush to her apartment, just be close by. He walked four blocks to the street where she lived. Turning the corner, he ducked into a darkened entryway of a building under construction. He had a clear view toward her building, but the street was partially blocked by two police cars and an ambulance. Flashing lights gave some illumination and he could see people standing around, curiosity seekers. Someone was sitting on a gurney near the ambulance, being treated by the medics. Karina! He slipped from his hiding place, moving toward her, but he saw that it wasn’t her as he got nearer. It was her mother. He joined a gathering of several people.
There she was, a short distance from her mother, being questioned by two police officers, shaking her head. Body language said she was saying nothing. Whatever happened, the police weren’t getting answers. At least she was safe with the police for the moment, so he returned to his darkened vantage point. After several minutes, her mother stood with assistance and walked to her daughter where they embraced. The police and ambulance left shortly after they had reentered the building. He walked fast back to the Metro.
Back at his apartment, he called her again. The encrypted phones didn’t have voicemail, and he let it ring more than a dozen times. Something had happened at their apartment, her mother was sick or hurt. He guessed she was hurt based on the way she was being treated by the medics. Karina had looked okay but nervous; he wasn’t close enough to know for sure. Whatever happened to them, he feared, had not been an accident.
He waited ten minutes after sending an SMS to her unsecured phone, before calling it. He only wanted to hear her voice. It went directly to voicemail. What’s going on? In frustration, he tried both phones several times that night, but never got an answer. He couldn’t sleep after that. He felt isolated and powerless. Some things Peter had said began resonating as he tried to sleep. He’d dismissed them during their conversation, but now they were making sense.
Jason
Some of the emotion from yesterday was gone, and it was a new day. Kiki decided to visit the farm again. She didn’t know why, but there were still unanswered mysteries about it. At least she wanted to have a full understanding of the place. She realized that her childhood recollections were incomplete or forgotten. She couldn’t remember ever walking into the orchard as a girl, except to pick fruit along the tractor path. She’d never walked down the rows or over the ridge. Her father had tried to interest her in driving the tractor, but that had failed. She’d never gone into the equipment building, covered now with rusted corrugated metal. The barn had scared her as a girl; she always thought it would fall down. Some of the chickens roosted inside and she’d collected the eggs, but had always run out, never exploring its vast unlit interior. Cracks between the weathered grey siding boards cast eerie shadows, making interior details unrecognizable or ghostly. She’d hated it as a girl. Now, as an adult, it didn’t look so large and no more rotten over the years. It hadn’t fallen down yet. She wanted to explore.
They had breakfast, and Jim played hooky again. She was enjoying his attention even more than expected. He wasn’t presumptuous or single minded. They’d talk until late the night before, and not only about the grave or the farm. They talked about a lot of things; they had both had some diverse
experiences and communicated well. She had a feeling, like herself, that Jim was growing fond of her, and she found herself enjoying it.
They got to the farm around eight o’clock, and it struck her nostalgically that there were no chickens or horses there anymore. They’d been gone for years, the horses before she was born, yet that had been the vision she’d retained before returning. All life was gone. A farm should be vibrant with people and animal noises and smells. Even the fruit trees looked old and sickly, and the buildings looked decrepit. The farm buildings were old when her father bought it, but it was ancient now. She was reminded of all the abandoned farm houses and barns she’d seen growing up. After finding the grave and feeling more viscerally connected to the people in its past, sadness overtook her. She had never expected to feel anything emotional about the place. Her father had died there only a few weeks ago; she could accept that, but now the emotions were deeper. Her father felt an attachment to the land, but she didn’t think it was spiritual. She felt sad that the farm was dying.
“Jim, look, I think I saw someone duck into the barn.” He stopped the car short of the house, about a hundred feet away from the barn.
“Well,