THE GUARD OUTSIDE THE MAIN DOOR OF HEADQUARTERS LOOKED STERN, BUT INSTEAD OF GREETING US WITH QUESTIONS OR A RIFLE, HE HELD OUT HIS HANDS, AS ANXIOUS AS a child to hold the puppy. Within a few seconds he was rubbing his finger along the side of her face and talking to her. She obliged him by licking his hand. He laughed and talked to me. All I could do was encourage him with smiles and hand gestures.
“Making friends, I see,” Axel said as he ascended the steps to the front door, startling us both. The guard looked terrified, pushed Zasha back into my arms, snapped to attention, shouldered his gun, and saluted. I couldn’t understand what Axel was saying, but it sounded like harsh scolding; the young man’s face burned red.
“Follow me,” he snapped. I set Zasha on the ground, and we trailed in his footsteps along with the two bodyguards, into the building and then into his room. Thor was tucked under Axel’s arm, and judging by the way he squirmed to get down and play, he was happy to see Zasha and me.
Axel said something to one of the guards, who immediately took Zasha’s lead from me, put Thor on his, and left the room. “So …” Axel said, pulling off his black leather gloves and dropping them on the desk. “Zasha is now dry and well, I presume?”
“Yes, sir. I hope you don’t mind, but I went to my house to dry us off and get warm again.”
He nodded as he threw his overcoat onto a chair. “What was the reason for the problem at the front door?”
“There was no problem, sir; the guard was just being friendly. If there had been, I would have just showed him my …” That’s when I remembered.
“Go on.”
“I, ah, I just realized that I forgot to put your letter into this coat pocket.” My mouth suddenly felt so dry, I could barely get my words out. “Because my other coat got wet….”
He nodded and strolled to the window. When he turned to speak to me, there was a look in his eye I couldn’t read.
“You forgot,” he said softly. “You forgot the one thing that would keep you safe in the face of an occupying army?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I was only thinking of making sure Zasha got dry, and … and getting her back to you.”
He sort of smiled and took stock of me as he walked slowly toward where I stood in front of his desk. “What does that say about you, my little Russian friend?”
“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”
He began to walk around me in a circle. I felt his eyes on me, his surgical examination, even when I couldn’t see him.
“It might mean you’re simply careless and forgetful. That’s plausible. But you strike me as a precise type of person. I can hear it in the way you play music.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not complimenting you. Precision can also make a piece of music sound wooden. I’m talking about your character.” He completed his circle and stood in front of me.
“Are you the type of boy who would sell your letter for a few rubles?”
“No, sir! You can go home with me right now and you’ll find it there in my pocket, just like I said.” A prickly, hot feeling was making its way up my neck and into my face.
“A letter like that would be very valuable to some people.”
“No, I —”
“For example, to a man who wanted to kill me. He’d merely pretend to be you, enter my chamber here” — he made a sweeping gesture with his arm — “and shoot me. Of course he’d be dead in seconds, but still, there is always some fool who will volunteer for the job.”
“I swear, sir, it’s right there in —”
“But I don’t think you are the sort to be bought with money. No, you’re …” He looked me up and down. “You’re the type to be motivated by ideas and sentimentality.”
“Please, sir, I’m just twelve years old. All I want is for the war to be over and to go back to Leningrad.”
He made a mockingly sad face. “Sorry. It won’t exist by the end of the war. Forget about Leningrad. You’ll all be working for Germany by then, anyway. We’ll put you where we need you.”
He turned away, and then back to me, as if something had just occurred to him. “There’s another possibility.” He paused for so long, my hands became moist and clammy. “You’re with the underground.”
“No!” My response was so vehement, he looked startled. “I’m not. I would never be — I’m just a boy.” I willed my face to stay still, to not give me away.
He walked to his desk. “Children are sometimes used by the partisans. I’ve never seen it myself, but one hears rumors.” He pulled something out of the desk drawer that I couldn’t see until it was in his hand: a coiled whip.
“Oh, no, please no,” I said, pleading, tears tumbling from my eyes. “I haven’t done anything, sir. I was forgetful, that’s all. I was thinking about the dog.”
The long lash of the whip uncoiled and rested innocently on the floor. “I used to be very good with one of these.” Axel snapped the whip at the far corner of the room. I gasped. “Quite a sound, don’t you think?” He smiled a twisted, sadistic smile. “Crisp. Crackling.”
I stood with my hands at my sides, tears flowing down my face. My heart was racing. If he lashed out at me, there’d be no way to escape. The thought of the whip slicing my skin made me light-headed.
“There was a time I could snap a cigarette out of someone’s mouth without ever touching their lips.” He snapped the whip again, in a motion like a fisherman would make casting his line into a stream. The snap exploded dangerously close to my ear. The beginnings of a scream escaped my lips before I could help it. He laughed softly. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. “You wouldn’t want me to practice with you, would you, Ivan?”
I shook my head, my answer a whisper. “No, sir.” He cracked the whip once against the ground; it moved like a snake. He began to coil it into a circle over his left hand.
“Well, I think we understand each other.” He gave me a quick, closed-mouth smile. “We’ll be leaving soon. Our army is needed elsewhere. You may be going with us. I haven’t yet decided.”
“Yes, sir.”
His stare was hard. I gazed into those impenetrable eyes. “That sounded a little too easy. What about your aunt or guardian or whomever she is? What about your precious Leningrad? What about your patriotism?” He’d moved closer and closer to me with every question until I could smell his harsh, metallic breath.
I cleared my throat, willing myself to stop crying and sound reasonable. My voice wavered a bit as I said, “I am a good Russian, but I also want to live.”
Something in my answer pleased him. He grasped my right shoulder. “Good boy. We’ve cleared that up. Now go see that the dogs are fed and dry. See if Fritzi can find a brush so that you can start grooming them. I’ll want you back in here by six o’clock with your concertina — and your letter.”
He turned away from me and I left him, muttering, “Thank you, sir,” a half dozen times. I don’t know how I made it down to the basement, my body was shaking so hard. My legs felt like they had turned to rubber and could barely support me. Suspicion about me had wormed its way into Axel’s mind. It would stay there, and probably get worse. Certainly he’d be watching me more carefully.
Petr had warned me that we had a limited amount of time with access to German headquarters. And Axel had just confirmed it with his talk of leaving Vilnov.