Frank Kohlhaas, Alfred Bäumer, Thorsten Wilden and two other men from Ivas were waiting on a secluded parking lot. Meanwhile, it was 22.00 o`clock and it was getting dark. They had driven to the outskirts of Vitebsk in the northwest of Belarus, and had parked their car next to an vacant building. The men peered across a long road which led directly to the parking lot.

  ”Well, it`s 22.00 o`clock now – these guys are not punctual”, growled Wilden, staring at his digital watch.

  “I just hope that the are okay, that`s the main thing”, said Alfred.

  Martin Steinbacher, one of the two young men who had accompanied them as an escort, gasped nervously and moaned.

  ”Stay calm!”, whispered Frank, looking at him and fumbling for his gun which was in the pocket of his coat. “It must be them!”

  From a distance, they saw the headlights of a car flashing in the night. Someone was driving in the direction of the meeting place.

  ”Ah!”, said Wilden and seemed to become fraught.

  The vehicle came nearer with a quiet hum. It also seemed to transport five men, whose outlines could be recognized behind the car`s windows. Then it finally stopped and a tall, blond man with a long gray trench coat got out first. Four other men followed him, looking grimly around. They were dressed completely in black.

  The blond man, Artur Tschistokjow, came to Wilden, after he had correctly identified him as the leader of the five strangers, and shook his hand.

  ”Menja sawut Artur Tschistokjow”, he said with a smile.

  ”Priwjet, Thorsten Wilden!”, answered the village boss and looked friendly at the Russian.

  “Could we speak English, Mr. Tschistokjow?”, asked Wilden and nodded.

  Meanwhile, the other men had come closer and introduced themselves too. Frank and Alf had calmed down and welcomed them.

  “Speak English? Yes, all right!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Tschistokjow!”, said Wilden, while the blond Russian suddenly grinned.

  “Tij njemez?”, he asked then.

  “Da, ja njemez!”, replied the village boss, grinning too.

  “Choroschow! Then I will try to speak in German!”, returned the leader of the freedom movement and perked his eyebrows up.

  “Good! I`m pleased. You can speak German, Mr. Tschistokjow! I haven`t expected that”, remarked Wilden and was amazed.

  “I can talk a little bit. It will be enough to conversation!”

  Wilden seemed to like his new interlocutor and started to laugh loudly. Artur`s comrades were just silent and stood behind him like statues.

  “Why have you learned German?”, asked the head of Ivas.

  ”Well, I`m a big friend of the German culture. Then I have learned as a hobby German language”, explained Tschistokjow and gave Wilden a wink.

  “I`m sorry, that I must meet you at such a place, but it is because of...safe...Understand?”

  „Safety!“, said Frank.

  „Yes, because of safety!“, added the blond man, smiling at Kohlhaas.

  The conversation lasted almost two hours and soon it was dark. Finally, only the headlights of the cars gave the ten men some orientation. The rebels from Ivas and their new acquaintances from Belarus were on very good terms with each other and had similiar political ideologies. Wilden showed his great world knowledge and was quite amazed, that Artur Tschistokjow could answer him on the same level, despite all language difficulties. Deep in the night, the men said goodbye to each other and drove back home.

  “We will stay in contact. I`m looking forward to join forces with you!”, said Wilden euphorically and clapped on Tschistokjow's back. Then they disappeared.

  On the trip home, the village boss was effusive and seemed to have found his old zest.

  “Tell me, what you think about him?”, he asked the others.

  “He seems to be a honest man!”, said Frank.

  “And he knows about the backgrounds of world policy. This is important today”, remarked Alf.

  The two younger men from Ivas just nodded and remained silent.

  “In Lithuania, there are also some members of Tschistokjow`s organization. We will immediately get in touch with them. This would be great, right?”, said the village boss.

  “But we won`t exactly tell them, where we come from. Even this Tschistokjow must not know our home village. You always tell us to keep our mouths shut, Thorsten. And secrecy is the most important thing of all!”, replied Frank, trying to cool down Wilden again.

  ”Yes, yes! Of course! We tell them nothing. But I`m just glad to have such an organization in the proximity of Ivas. We can achieve a lot, if we fight together with Tschistokjow and his men!”

  “What doesn`t mean that we become blabbers!”, growled Alf and Kohlhaas agreed.

  They drove through the night and reached their home village in the early morning hours. Frank and Alfred sneaked home and immediately went to bed. This day had been exhausting, and now they had to wait and see, what would happen next. Wilden visited HOK several times in the next days, and used his well-encrypted phone connection for long conversations with Artur Tschistokjow. The young Russian with his resolute character and the amazing world knowledge had already fascinated him, and while Frank and Alfred worked in the garden or renovated their old house, the village boss just invited his new acquaintances from Belarus – to Ivas!

  Wilden had not talked about this with the other villagers and had acted on his own. Soon, Artur Tschistokjow was on his way to the little Lithuanian village.

  “What?”, screamed Frank with darting eyes and winced, almost falling from his chair.

  ”He comes to Ivas?”, ranted Alf and banged on the kitchen table.

  The village boss made a step back. “Oh, don`t lose your heads. My guts tells me, that Artur Tschistokjow has a pure heart. I can`t imagine that he is an informer.”

  “You can`t imagine? Fuck!”, shouted Kohlhaas and briefly thought about smashing Wilden`s face.

  ”Ivas is a fucking taboo! You have spent years in building up this community, Thorsten. And now, you want to endanger us all just to show those fucking Russians your damn books?”, roared Bäumer.

  “I will take the full responsibility. Eh...Artur also wants to bring three of his men from Vilnius. For example, the leader of the Lithuaninan section...”, explained Wilden slowly and became more and more insecure.

  “The full fucking responsibility? We won`t have anything from this if the cops come here tomorrow, idiot!”, hissed Frank in anger. Then he left the room.

  “You bring the hangman to our village. Have you forgotten that the GSA is searching for that Russian?”, yelled Alf, standing menacingly in front of the village boss.

  “Well, I`m going back home now. Don`t worry, nothing will happen”, muttered Wilden and seemed to be offended.

  “Damn! Think about your responsibility for all the inhabitants of Ivas, Thorsten!”, grouched Frank after him from the living room.

  For the rest of the day, Frank and Alfred sweared and cursed, because of Wilden`s recklessness and his eternal quest for self-glorification. They knew that this could lead to a catastrophe.

  However, Artur`s visit could not be prevented anymore. The Russian came to Ivas, with three other men. Even Igor, a dark-haired, tall man with a beard in the mid thirties, who was introduced to them as the leader of the Vilnius group, was among them.

  Wilden led his guests through the whole village and spoke smugly about “his base”. Finally he started endless discussions with Tschistokjow, showing him proudly some of “his men” and already warranted an intensive cooperation in the name of the other rebels. Frank and Alfred angrily followed the older gentleman, seething inside like two glowing pots.

  “This damn monkey!", thought Kohlhaas and pierced his eyes in Wilden`s back. The gray-haired man walked forward and led the Belarusian visitors to his house.

  ”My garden! It`s nice, isn`t it?”, he said with a happy face. Now, Mrs. Wilden and Julia appeared at the front door.

  “Artur Tschistokjo
w from Vitebsk and Igor from Vilnius and...”, he explained.

  “Anatoly and Leonid!”, added the blond man, friendly shaking Mrs. Wilden`s and her daughter`s hands and bowing to them.

  Julia stared at Frank with an annoyed glance and rolled her eyes irately.

  “If a donkey feels too well, he starts running on ice!”*, whispered Frank to her in passing and she nodded.

  Obviously, Wilden's wife and his daughter were also not all too pleased by the generous invitation of foreign people into their house. Anyway, it had happened. The former businessman from Westphalia led them all into the kitchen, where a steaming soup and a big cream cake were already waiting for the guests.

  They ate in silence. Only Wilden and Artur Tschistokjow talked cheerfully, showing each other how much political background knowledge they had. A while later, they left Mrs. Wilden and Julia and went into Thorsten`s new library, where the landlord presented Artur his favorite books.

  ”This is incredible. These books are more than rare!”, marveled Tschistokjow and browsed in an old tome. “I have the same book, only in Russian.”

  Wilden and the leader of the Rus talked for a while about their collections of literature, then Frank finally stepped in and asked: “Okay, now tell us about your great revolutionary plans, Artur?”

  The blond Russian turned around and looked for a suitable answer.

  ”We have to...eh...one day...make a strike by the workers and make a revolution in Minsk!”, he returned.