Siberian Red

showed the rail system for the entire country, the tracks laid out in red like the arteries of an animal stripped of its flesh.
    Kasinec’s finger traced along the line of the Trans-Siberian Railroad, through towns whose names had been smudged into illegibility by the constant jab of fingerprints, until it branched off and dead-ended just north of the border with China. ‘Here,’ he said, tapping his fingernail against a patch of green, surrounded by a chalky whiteness on the map. ‘This is the valley of Krasnagolyana.’
    For the first time‚ as Kirov stared at the map, he understood the enormity of the task he had been given. Stalin had demanded the impossible. ‘It can’t be done,’ he muttered. ‘I might as well give up before I start. How can I possibly track down anyone in that wilderness?’
    ‘On the contrary,’ Kasinec told him‚ ‘these men should be easy to find. If they have escaped from Borodok, they’ll naturally head towards China. Once they have crossed the border, they will be out of reach of Soviet authorities. If they head in any other direction, they will remain in Russia and it would only be a matter of time before they were recaptured.’
    ‘So they head east,’ said Kirov. ‘That narrows it down, but you have not exactly pinpointed their route, stationmaster.’
    ‘Indeed I have. These men will follow the railroad.’
    ‘Even if they are travelling on foot? What about the other roads?’
    ‘That’s the thing, Major. In that part of the country, there are no other roads, especially at this time of the year. But the tracks of the Trans-Siberian are always kept open, no matter what the season or the weather.’ Now he pointed to a red dot, which marked the next station on the eastbound route, some distance from the place where the Krasnagolyana railhead joined with the main route of the Trans-Siberian. The name of this place was Nikolsk, and it stood just to the west of a town named Chita. Here, the Trans-Siberian Railroad split in two. The north fork, which remained within the boundaries of Russia, made a wide arc through the towns of Nerchinsk, Belogorsk and Khabarovsk before dropping south again to reach the port of Vladivostok on the Pacific Ocean. The other rail line dipped into China, cutting through the town of Harbin before crossing into Russia once again and terminating, like the northern fork, at Vladivostok.
    ‘This is not only the quickest way for them to reach China,’ said Kasinec, tracing his finger along the southern branch. ‘It is, for all practical purposes, the only way.’
    Kirov realised that everything the stationmaster had said made sense. He was still by no means convinced that intercepting Pekkala’s kidnappers could be accomplished, but the task no longer seemed to lie beyond the bounds of possibility.
    ‘How long will it take them to reach Nikolsk?’ asked Kirov.
    ‘From Borodok? Five days, maybe, if they are travelling on foot. If they have sledges or skis, it could be only half that time.’
    Kirov walked to the door and looked out over the empty railyard. ‘And no train for three days.’
    ‘That is correct, Comrade Major.’
    ‘And three days from now, if I do climb aboard that train, how long will it take to reach Borodok?’
    ‘A week at least, more likely two. And Borodok has its own rail line which branches off the Trans-Siberian. No trains are scheduled to arrive in Borodok for another month. The best they could do is drop you at the railhead and you could make your way on foot to the camp, although I expect you might freeze to death first.’
    Kirov felt a weight settle on his heart, as if someone were kneeling on his chest. ‘So it cannot be done after all.’
    ‘I did not say that, Comrade Major.’
    Kirov spun around. ‘Then what are you saying?’
    ‘I do have one idea. But what I have in mind requires knowing friends in high places.’
    Kirov tapped the passbook in his chest pocket. ‘If my friends were any higher, Comrade Kasinec, they would die from lack of oxygen.’
    *
     
    It was after dark when Sergeant Gramotin and the six guards he had ordered to accompany him trudged out of the camp.
    ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ asked one of the guards. ‘Going after those savages at night?’
    Gramotin did not reply. He was so disgusted with the way his men had behaved when the attack broke out that he could not bring himself to answer their stupid questions. If they had performed as Gramotin had trained them,