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  Ulrich went to return to the bar, but a powerful fist grabbed his forearm. ‘That’s just it. I can give you his address, but it won’t make a bit of difference. You won’t find him there.’

  Ulrich looked at him blankly.

  Grund shook his head. ‘Jesus, you really are wet behind the ears. They picked him up two days ago, dragging him out of his bed in front of his wife and kids.’

  Ulrich closed his eyes, the reality finally dawning on him. ‘Shit!’

  ‘Exactly. Now, I don’t know what you wanted to tell him and frankly, I don’t want to know, but one thing’s for sure, Hauser won’t be leading any more of our little meetings for a while.’

  Grund gave him another hard stare, then returned to the bar to join his friends.

  CHAPTER 10

  APRIL 1947, KOLYMA, RUSSIA

  Since the accident at the mine, Hans, Markus and Klaus planned the escape in minute detail. Secrecy was their utmost consideration; nobody outside the three of them knew, not even Dirk. Their lives, and the success of the escape, depended upon it. The scheming Stransky was their main concern. Klaus did his best to avoid the man completely, but he was never far away, watching, doing his best to prevent even the smallest improvement in the prisoners’ lot. Markus had returned to work, so they had limited opportunity to meet all together, although Klaus’ job meant he could act as a go-between.

  After his initial misgivings, Doctor Hans Vogel had fallen into line, and once convinced of their seriousness, he threw his weight behind the idea. They discussed the terrain, the wildlife, how to fish, shelter, all the things Markus would require out there alone in the Siberian wilds.

  The first part of the plan was to ensure that Schram was transferred to the hospital. The key to having Schram start his escape from the hospital was all about the layout of the mine. The hospital was the section closest to the slag heaps, where the supplies for his escape were hidden and that also marked the extremities of the camp. If he attempted to escape from the barracks he would have to cross the whole camp to collect the equipment. The chance of detection from the hospital was much lower and his disappearance wouldn’t be noticed until the Russian doctors arrived for the morning shift. This was already three hours later than when Schram would have been expected at work. Those extra hours meant everything to the success of the escape.

  On the day of the escape, Hans gave Schram enough salt to induce fever-like symptoms for the length of time required to pass a first inspection by the Russian doctors. Markus Schram was duly admitted to hospital towards the end of the day. With the hospital heating system mysteriously developing a fault, Klaus also had a legitimate reason to be there. The three of them were gathered in Hans’ quarters as soon as the Russian doctor had left, and Schram’s salt fever had worn off. Markus was dressed in the warmest clothes they had, whilst permitting him adequate mobility. He was eventually ready to leave dressed in a pair of felt boots and a deerskin jacket Hans had managed to get hold of. The doctor also handed Markus a handful of roubles. ‘Here, you’ll need this. Keep it dry.’

  ‘Where did you get it?’ Schram asked.

  Hans was about to reply when they heard footsteps in the corridor outside. In a panic, Hans quickly pushed them behind a separation curtain at the back of the door.

  Klaus heard the door open and a man grunt a greeting.

  ‘I forgot my tobacco tin. It would be a long night without my pipe,’ the voice said.

  Klaus closed his eyes not wanting to believe all the planning would be foiled by such an innocuous thing. He started to think about having to deal with the Russian doctor.

  He heard a drawer open, then slam shut.

  ‘Goodnight, Vogel.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  The door was opened, then closed. Klaus and Markus heaved a collective sigh of relief. Hans pulled back the curtain.

  ‘We need to give him time to get out of the building,’ he said.

  ‘That was too close for comfort,’ Schram said, seemingly getting warm in his extra clothes.

  ‘Take off a couple of layers or you’ll be cold when you go outside,’ Hans said.

  In the time they waited for the man to be clear of the hospital, Hans Vogel had another surprise. ‘Here, help me move this,’ he said. They pushed his desk out of the way and the Doc got down on his hands and knees. He removed a loose board and started to fish in the recess. Schram and Klaus looked at each other wondering what he would come up with next.

  He pulled out a cloth bag. ‘I thought you might need this.’

  He handed Schram the bag and he quickly dipped his hand inside. His face changed. ‘A Luger?’

  The Doc nodded. ‘I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you. Now, you must go. To get caught with that will mean a neck shot for all of us.’

  They helped Markus back into his last skins and checked the corridor was clear. It was time. The Doc shook Markus’ hand, ‘I won’t come down with you. Do your best. You know where to find my wife. Good luck, Markus.’

  ‘Thanks for all your help, Doc. I won’t let you down.’

  Klaus pushed him towards the back exit. They crept down the small staircase and when they reached the door, Klaus handed him a well-wrapped letter for Maria. As they stood there, Klaus remembered all the things they’d been through together; all the successful advances, all the horrors of Stalingrad and the deprivations of captivity. Markus Schram had been responsible for helping them survive, using his skill and wit. He would need every ounce of his undiminished spirit to get home.

  Klaus held out his hand, but Markus ignored it and instead clinched him in a bear hug.

  ‘Take care out there, Markus.’

  ‘You too, Klaus. Stick with it. I’ll get news to the people back home.’

  ‘Just remember what we’re fighting for when you feel like giving in. We want our justice – to deal with Marz. Get home in one piece.’

  Klaus could hear the wind howling outside. It wasn’t quite a storm, but unpleasant nonetheless. The door was stiff due to lack of use and took some budging. Eventually they opened it, heralding a blast of the Siberian winter. The door opened more than they would have liked. Markus didn’t look back. He ducked out into the darkness. Klaus struggled to get the door closed against the pulsing gale. By the time he did, the floor was wet with snow. He cleaned it up the best he could, knowing if it was discovered, it would be a clear sign the door had been opened recently. It took another couple of minutes, but, even then, the floor was still wet.

  Rather than go back up to see Hans, Klaus preferred to be alone with his thoughts. He slipped out of the front door heading for the barracks. The cold wind hit him like a sharp slap. He pulled up his telogreika and thought about Schram. By now, with any luck, he would have located the equipment and be on his way.

  Suddenly, Klaus saw somebody heading over the yard towards him. His breath shortened. Rarely, if ever, did anyone patrol the compound at night. As the figure got closer, Klaus’ heart sank. It was Stransky. Their paths crossed twenty metres from the hospital.

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ he growled.

  ‘I was called to the hospital to check the heating system.’

  Stransky’s eyes looked dead like a snake’s. Klaus felt a wave of panic. Had he been watching them all along?

  After a few long seconds, he shouted above the wind, ‘Get to the barracks, I’ll be back to check.’

  Klaus nodded in relief and rushed on his way. As soon as he reached the nearest building, he turned to see where Stransky was heading.

  As he feared, Stransky entered the hospital. He would be sure to open the back door if he saw the floor. Klaus didn’t want to think about the rest. His decision was instinctive. He had to cover Markus’ escape. They hadn’t come so far for the plan to be foiled.

  Klaus quickly retraced his steps back to the hospital, then skirted the front of the building in a low crouch. By the time he’d reached around the side, he was sheltered from the rest of the main camp
. At the corner of the building, he allowed himself a quick glance around the back. The wind instantly brought water to his eyes. There was no sign of Stransky. Klaus scanned across to the slag heaps to where they’d hidden the rucksack.

  His heart leapt. He spotted Markus digging furiously, still trying to locate the equipment. Worryingly, his silhouette was easily recognisable against the white background. Klaus was convinced he would have been on his way by now.

  Anxiously, he glanced back to the hospital. There was still nothing. He wondered if he should go and help Markus find the supplies, but something kept him there; instinct probably. It was a good thing it did, as just then Stransky’s bulk appeared from the back of the building. Klaus could see him looking down at the ground at the fresh prints. He was following his nose.

  Klaus felt sick, seemingly a disaster unfolding in front of his eyes. Barely a hundred metres away Schram continued his frantic search, oblivious to the threat. Finally, he’d located the rucksack, but was now focused on trying to get it onto his back. Stransky was a big man. Schram would undoubtedly need assistance. Klaus knew they’d have to deal with Stransky if this escape was to get over the first hurdle. He didn’t have a problem with that.

  Stransky was using a torch to follow the prints. He’d not spotted Schram and fortunately, he hadn’t yet alerted anybody. It seemed he wanted the glory for himself. Klaus knew he had to move soon. He broke cover, keeping to the back of the building. By now Stransky had covered a quarter of the distance to Schram, which fortunately placed Klaus out of his line of sight.

  Close to the back door, Klaus started to trace Stransky’s steps, out into the open. The guard had quickened his pace, no doubt moving in for the kill. Klaus wondered how long it would be before he raised the alarm. He wondered if Markus had seen him yet. With the weight on his back he had no chance against Stransky on his own. Klaus started to run in order to catch up.

  Stransky had reached the front of the slag heap. Klaus was still struggling through the snow twenty metres behind him. It was then that Stransky saw Schram and shouted something. Klaus couldn’t hear exactly what because of the wind. At least nobody in the camp would have heard.

  Markus turned, now in Klaus’ eyeline. He saw Stransky and then Klaus, close behind. Markus started to struggle to shake the rucksack from his back, knowing what was coming. Stransky started to fumble with his glove, no doubt thinking about his sidearm. Markus managed to ditch the rucksack and cleverly moved to the back of the slag heap. He was now out of view of the camp.

  Stransky had unholstered his gun and had it aimed at Schram. Klaus was still ten metres from him. Schram raised his hands in surrender, not attempting to go for the weapon the Doc had given him. He was banking on Klaus. Klaus was scouring the ground for a weapon, anything, but with the covering of snow it was difficult to see anything useful. Klaus heard Schram engage Stransky in conversation. He knew it was an attempt to distract him. Stransky’s replies were becoming agitated. Klaus was running out of time; he knew Stransky could shoot at any time. He also knew he could turn and discover him in an instant. Klaus was now barely three metres from his back.

  Just when he was considering the use of his bare hands, Klaus saw the rock. It was covered by a thick layer of snow and ice. It was the right size, his only chance, their only chance.

  Klaus grabbed it, quickly cleaning it off. As he started to lift it above his head, Stransky heard him. The guard turned, panning his gun towards him. Klaus started to bring the rock down towards his head, aiming for a spot at the back. As Stransky turned, however, the side became the target. Klaus got there just before his gun was on him.

  The rock made contact, striking the temple with a sickening thud. Stransky dropped the gun, as if he’d been shot, then fell to the floor. The force Klaus had used made him fall on top of Stransky. He went to lift the rock again, but there was no need. He’d killed enough men to know Stransky was dead, his eyes wide in shock.

  Klaus was breathless. He tossed the bloodied rock to one side. Markus hauled him up.

  ‘We have to get rid of the body,’ he said.

  Klaus came to his senses. ‘No, I have to get rid of the body. You have to go.’

  ‘I can’t leave you in the shit like this. You just saved my neck.’

  ‘Go, Markus. Otherwise all this will have been in vain.’

  He didn’t move. Klaus was emotional now, still coming to terms with what he’d just done. ‘Just fucking go!’

  Markus looked over his shoulder where he’d dumped the rucksack, thinking about it. He slapped Klaus on the shoulder in one last gesture of thanks and scrambled over to the bag. On this occasion, it was on his back quickly. Markus Schram was off over the shallow hill without looking behind him.

  Klaus immediately turned his attention to Stransky’s body. He looked at it, feeling nothing. Even though he despised the man, this wasn’t about hatred, only necessity. Klaus had a short time to get rid of the body and get back to the barracks. He couldn’t dig down because the ground was frozen. His only chance was to dig into the side of the recently excavated material which formed one of the slag heaps. It was exactly how he’d hidden the sack for Schram.

  To make things worse the wind had really started to howl. There was a serious storm coming. Klaus started to dig with his hands. The ground was freezing cold. His hands burned, knowing he was racing against the fast-approaching storm. Even if he managed to bury him, it was unlikely the disturbance of the ground would go unnoticed. Another gust of wind told Klaus, for once, the Siberian weather might just work in his favour.

  After a time spent scraping at the surface with his hands, he found an entrenching tool from the mine. He worked in a frenzy, sweat pouring from his brow, even in those temperatures. Deeper down under the crust, the heap was quite soft, as it had been recently moved. With a hole dug, he now had to shift the body. In the intervening time, it had become rigid. The cold and rigor mortis had already set in. He dragged Stransky’s body across to the hole, dizzy with effort. He’d obviously been feeding on better rations than them. Klaus tried to manipulate the body into position, but it was almost impossible.

  Eventually it was in place. The snow was getting heavier and the wind was now almost constant. The buran was just about upon the camp. Klaus redoubled his efforts at least to cover the body. It was only half a job, but he knew if he didn’t move now, he’d get caught in the storm and never make it back to the camp.

  The snow came fast and hard. He set off for the back of the hospital building. Klaus was being pushed along by a hurricane. He hit the building and started to feel his way around it, almost blind, hands grasping at the timber. Finally, he stumbled, reaching the side in the lee of the wind. He knew he’d never make it back to the barracks alive. Klaus also knew Stransky was the only man who’d seen him heading back there. It wouldn’t be that unusual to stay the night in the hospital.

  The choice made for him, he scrambled along the front of the hospital, grateful for the shelter. He fell through the door, kicking it shut behind him. The place was in silence. He lay on his back catching his breath, listening to the howling outside. Suddenly, light spilled out on to the corridor. He could only see a shadow as he shielded his eyes.

  ‘Jesus, look at the state of you.’ It was Hans.

  He hauled Klaus up. ‘What the…?’

  Klaus was covered in blood and dirt. ‘Don’t ask. Just get me cleaned up quickly.’ His voice was emotional. Klaus didn’t recognise it as his own.

  Hans Vogel cleaned him down the best he could and took some of his clothes to dry on the stove. With the blood and dirt eventually removed from his hands, Klaus could see some of his fingernails were missing. Klaus told him what had happened.

  ‘You can’t go anywhere tonight. Your tracks will already be covered by the snow,’ he said.

  Klaus nodded, starting to regain his composure.

  ‘We just have to hope nothing is found. Hopefully, it’ll be a few months before his body is given up.’ He nodde
d to a bunk. ‘Try and get some rest,’ and then to the outside, ‘and pray for Markus.’

  As he clambered onto the bunk, his nerves felt shot. Klaus didn’t feel at all like sleep. Their plan to get Schram out of the camp had worked, but at a cost. In an ideal world he hoped he was making good his escape and putting distance between himself and the camp. In reality the best outcome was for him to survive the storm. Klaus couldn’t feel elation for the fact Markus had escaped. A good friend and comrade had gone. He was now the last of the original group left in captivity, and a friend in those conditions was worth far more than the gold they were mining. Klaus was under no illusions of the task that faced Markus out there in the open. Listening to the tumult was a stark reminder of that. Whatever preparations they had made, and they had been long and exhaustive, Klaus still doubted he would ever see Markus Schram again.

  CHAPTER 11

  APRIL 1947, KOLYMA, RUSSIA

  A week after the incident Markus Schram had not been found.

  Neither had the body of Stransky. It didn’t come as a complete surprise to Klaus. The buran had blown for two full days. The tracks would no doubt have been obliterated. It didn’t say much for the chances of Schram’s survival.

  What did surprise him was the relaxed manner in which Burzin took the news that one of his guards and a prisoner had disappeared simultaneously. Even for the phlegmatic Burzin it seemed an unusual response. Perhaps he felt there was no way anybody could have survived the storm, so there was no need to be concerned. Things continued as strangely normal during that week and Klaus was starting to feel the silence as deafening. However, when the storm did break, he might have preferred the silence.

  It was precisely seven days later, when Klaus was taking a batch of repaired shovels back to the mine, that he saw that familiar, squat frame striding up the steps of the kommandant’s office. It was enough to make him stop in his tracks. He didn’t need to see his face to know it was Dobrovsky. He would know that self-important strut anywhere. It had been nearly three years, but he couldn’t forget the man who had consigned them to this hell, and a man like Dobrovsky didn’t come to a backwater like Kolyma without good reason. So close to Schram’s escape, Klaus knew the two facts were connected. He had to find out more.