Douglas Jacobson - The Katyn Order

Broken Nose stepped over Piotr, who was covered in blood and only barely conscious, and approached the other woman. She struggled against the ropes, her eyes wild with fear. “No! Oh God, no! Please!”

Broken Nose kicked her onto her back, stomped his boot on her forehead and thrust the flaming shaft of wood against her chest. The woman shrieked wildly, legs thrashing.

“Jesus Christ!” Krystyna screamed at Broken Nose, “You bastard! Stop!”

Zygmunt lashed out with his feet, trying to kick Broken Nose, but he couldn’t reach him.

“Stop it! Goddamn it! Stop!” Adam shouted, desperately trying to break loose from the Giant’s iron grip.

Broken Nose kept his boot on the woman’s forehead, pinning her down as her white cotton blouse caught fire. She shrieked long, agonizing wails, over and over again, until Broken Nose turned pale and backed off. He dropped the flaming stick on the ground and looked the other way. Finally the woman shuddered, wheezed one last time and passed out.

Tarnov snapped a command to Broken Nose, then put his boot on Krystyna’s shoulder and shoved her onto her back. Krystyna grunted, her simple, cotton dress stretched tight over her swollen belly.

Broken Nose picked up the burning scrap of wood and dutifully stepped forward. Tarnov shouted at Adam, “Where is document? You care about this woman. I know. I save her for worst. You lie, she burn next!”

Krystyna spat at Tarnov. “Go to hell, you son of a bitch!”

Tarnov kicked her in the stomach. Krystyna grunted in pain, drawing up her knees.

Adam’s eyes clouded with tears as he struggled to stay on his feet and focus his vision on Tarnov. Stay calm. Stay calm, Goddamn it… and think! He took a deep breath, forcing himself to concentrate. He could tell by Tarnov’s reaction earlier that Kovalenko’s letter gave him pause. Tarnov was NKVD, but Kovalenko was a Russian general, and there’d be trouble—not what anyone wanted with the Potsdam conference coming up.

“Last chance, Nowak!” Tarnov bellowed. “Where is document?”

Krystyna lifted her head. Her forehead glistened with sweat as the rifleman held the burning wood close to her face. “No, Adam!” she cried. “No! Don’t tell him!”

Adam hesitated a moment too long, and Tarnov flicked his head toward Broken Nose. The rifleman jabbed the burning stick against Krystyna’s neck.

Krystyna howled and jerked her head, kicking her feet wildly, squirming away. Broken Nose stepped toward her and pressed the red-hot stick against her neck a second time as Krystyna writhed helplessly. Her long, agonizing screams sliced through Adam’s soul like a hunting knife.

“Stop!” Adam screamed. “Stop! I’ll tell you what I know! Just get that son of a bitch away from her!”

Tarnov waved a hand at Broken Nose who again tossed the burning stick to the side. “If you lie, I burn off ears. Then I work on baby.”

Adam swallowed hard, choking back the bile in his throat as Krystyna rolled on her side, moaning, curling her legs into a fetal position. He glared at Tarnov, quickly running through all the possibilities in his mind as the NKVD officer approached him. “The document you’re looking for is in Nowy Targ.”

Tarnov spit in his face again. “Fucking lie! Why you go up mountain if document in Nowy Targ?” He shouted a command to Broken Nose, who stepped over to Krystyna and jerked her head back, exposing the charred and blistering skin on the side of her neck.

Krystyna shrieked again, then convulsed violently, gagging on her own vomit.

Seething with rage, Adam jerked his arms with every ounce of strength he had left. He broke free of the Giant’s grip, lunged at Tarnov and grabbed him around the neck. He squeezed and dug in his fingernails as Tarnov ripped at his hands. An instant later, the Giant brought a massive fist down on Adam’s shoulder.

Adam’s arm lost all feeling, and he dropped to one knee. His grip fell away from Tarnov’s neck as a double image of the Russian oscillated back and forth in his field of vision.

Tarnov punched him in the face. “Lies! Fucking lies!”

“I didn’t know… the document was in… Nowy Targ…” Adam gasped as the Giant grabbed his wrists again. “I didn’t know… until the Górale people told me. Banach hid it there… when he passed through.” Adam struggled to breathe. Sweat ran down his face. Would Tarnov take him along to Nowy Targ? Maybe not. The city was so close Tarnov could leave him under guard for a short time. All I need is one more day and Natalia will contact Kovalenko.

Tarnov glared at him. “Where in Nowy Targ?”

Adam’s foggy mind was just barely a step ahead. “In a locker at the bus station… number 39.”

“Key! Where is key?”

Adam shook his head. “No key… they didn’t have—” Tarnov punched him again. Adam’s head jerked back and a bolt of pain shot through his forehead.

“Burn pregnant woman’s face off!” Tarnov roared. He shouted the command a second time in Russian.

Broken Nose hesitated.

Adam screamed at Tarnov, “It’s true! Banach was an old man… he lost the key… but he remembered the number—39—it’s the year he was arrested!”

Adam kept his attention riveted on Broken Nose, who still had not moved toward Krystyna. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of movement. A crunching blow slammed the back of his head. Everything went black.

THE NEW LOCATION of the wireless was a dilapidated garage on Filipa Street, north of the Stare Miasto District on the other side of the Rynek Kleparski market. Leopold had been waiting for Natalia outside the café on the Rynek Glowny. As soon as he spotted her, he turned and walked away. Natalia followed him, walking hunched over with the cane. She wore the gray scarf over her head, a gray sweater and a black-and-red, flower-print skirt she’d obtained from a secondhand store. It was the first time she’d worn a skirt in years.

She remained at a discreet distance behind Leopold until the elderly man disappeared inside the garage, leaving the door ajar. As soon as Natalia stepped into the dank, dirt-floored building, Leopold pulled the creaking door closed behind her. A young, bearded man with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth sat in front of a wireless set. Rabbit stood next to him, peering over his shoulder, obviously engrossed in the equipment.

Seemingly oblivious to Natalia’s presence, the bearded man tightened the connections to a twelve-volt battery, donned a headset and slowly adjusted the dials of the Canadian-built wireless set, one of the few still in the hands of the AK. He listened intently, then adjusted the dials again.

Natalia removed her scarf, leaned the cane against the wall and handed Leopold a slip of paper with the message she wanted to send. After lying awake most of last night tossing and turning, she had finally decided that it was Whitehall she would contact.

Leopold sat down on the other side of the wireless and wrote out the code. Then he handed it to the bearded man, who began tapping on the key. When he finished, the man disconnected the battery, lifted the wireless set off the workbench and placed it inside a wooden crate. He covered the crate with a canvas tarp, set three worn-out tires on top of the tarp and left the garage without a word.

“So, now what?” Rabbit said, with that same eagerness that Natalia recalled from their street battles in Warsaw.

“Now we wait,” Natalia replied, though the delays were driving her crazy. It was all she could do not to get on the bus to Nowy Targ. And do what, take on Tarnov alone?

Leopold nodded. “We’ll meet back here tomorrow at noon and see if we get a reply.”