Chapter 6: Domestic upheaval and foreign intrigue
1 July 1938, Lubyanka
Sergei Uritsky had craved power and authority his entire life -- it was why he had joined the NKVD. Uritsky was born in Vladivostok in 1900, a few years before the Russo-Japanese War. He remembered crying when he heard Admiral Rozhdestvensky had died, only to learn that he had survived by surrendering. To the still young Uritsky, it felt like the worst kind of betrayal. The five year old vowed that traitors would never survive if he ever took charge. As a teenager, he entered Moscow State University, earning the highest possible grade on his entrance examination. The child prodigy was to enter in the fall of 1914, where he was horrified to hear of how freely students and professors criticized the regime, a regime that was locked in a struggle for its very existence. Yet as the war proceeded, and Tsar Nicholas II took personal command of all Russian forces, Sergei couldn't help but start to worry about whether or not the radicals were right. The same day that the Dardanelles expedition failed (9 January 1916), Uritsky attended his first meeting of the Bolsheviks. He came away thoroughly transformed. He finished his four year degree in mathematics in just two years. On the night of his graduation, he and some fellow students were arrested for protesting the regime's criminal mismanagement of personnel. While in prison, Sergei joined a cell of the Bolsheviks, and when he was released shortly after the February Revolution, he was personally selected by Comrade Dzerzhinsky himself to be a member of the Cheka. He worked his way up, preferring the business of counterespionage to the more glamorous and prestigious foreign intelligence service.
Yet, for all that, his career stalled. Genrikh Yagoda, who had actually joined the Cheka after Uritsky, had the social skills and sycophancy to rocket up the ladder. Uritsky seethed in frustration about how badly his career had turned out, knowing he was smarter than any man or woman in the Soviet Union (apart from Comrade Stalin, naturally). He caught spy after spy, but Yagoda claimed all the credit. He continued to be promoted while Uritsky languished. Through tireless hard work and brute competency, Uritsky eventually worked his way up to the post of Deputy Commissar for Counterintelligence in 1930, but Yagoda again leapfrogged him, becoming deputy chief of the old GPU before becoming NKVD in late 1934. Uritsky, 34 years of age, was already contemplating retirement. He might have, if not for a chance conversation in 1938.
Like any People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs, A. I. Petrova had been vetted thoroughly by Uritsky and his team. She was an exemplary Communist, so the investigation had been quick, but a mutual loathing of Yagoda drew them close together. Sergei and Anastasia had been slowly building a case against the People's Commissar for Internal Affairs. Yagoda had allies -- principally among them NK for Education Yakushev (who had attained his own position thanks to Yagoda) and NK for Justice Sokolov, who had worked closely with Yagoda for years. But he also had plenty of enemies. With the announcement of a Committee for State Defense -- one that proposed to exclude Yagoda -- Yagoda finally made a wrong move, throwing accusations of coup attempts and even questioning Comrade Stalin's judgement in leaving off the NKVD. Stalin discreetly authorized Petrova to go public with her information, and within days, Comrade Yagoda was found dead. The suspects in the murder were legion, from Petrova herself to Yagoda's chief deputy, Pasternak, even to Marshal Tukhachevsky. Sokolov was placed in charge of the investigation and named acting head of the NKVD. On Petrova's recommendation, Uritsky was named Chief of Security, making him #3 in the NKVD.
The question on everybody's lips, though, was how far would he go?
25 August 1938, Stalin's dacha
Privately, Stalin could not have been more pleased with Yagoda's assassination. While Stalin did not trust the Red Army, Yagoda had an irritating habit of actively stirring up discord between the NKVD and Red Army, and Stalin would need the Red Army for his plans to expand. Stalin's plans for war with Japan had been completely derailed by Yagoda's insistence on broadcasting those desires to anybody who sat still long enough. The interim People's Commissar, Sokolov, at least knew how to operate more subtly.
Publicly, it was Sokolov's job to "find" Yagoda's killer. Stalin knew that he needed a scapegoat. It was just a matter of whom. As he considered his options, his telephone rang, breaking his concentration.
"What?"
"Comrade Stalin, we have an emergency request from Comrade Molotov. A few candidate members of the Politburo are demanding extensive wartime mobilization measures for an invasion of Poland."
"Poland? Who the devil is worried about the Poles right now?"
"Comrade... Zaitsev, I believe."
Stalin's eyes narrowed. Zaitsev had been another irritant, constantly demanding more and more authority and especially pushing for a much larger and more powerful navy. While General-Colonel Vatutin had been authorized to draw up plans for an invasion of Poland, it had been Zaitsev who was trying to mobilize support for a preemptive declaration of war. Stalin thought how to handle this. "What are the risks?"
"The people will oppose this."
"The people will think what I tell them to think."
"Er... yes, Comrade Stalin."
"Still, you may be right. If we are to strike at an opportune time, we must do so as quietly as possible, and such legislation is foolish at this time. Distribute 50 million rubles -- you may use my private account -- among his supporters."
"And Zaitsev?"
Stalin smiled. "Nothing. Let us hope he gets the message."
20 October 1938, Paris
The decision not to oppose Hitler's annexation of the Sudetenland was not a popular one in France.
Members of the French Communist Party had had difficulty recruiting support; now, miraculously, members showed up to the one party who still consistently opposed Hitler. The new members had plenty of new contacts, and before long, Deputy Chief of the NKVD Pasternak found himself sitting nervously on a bench just off the Champs Elysees. The target had insisted that a "high ranking member of the NKVD" personally show up and escort him to Moscow; in exchange, the target would supply vital information on the French Air Force for the day when the Red Army would invade France and overthrow the reactionary Lebrun.
And so, instead of maneuvering for the top spot in the NKVD, Pasternak found himself almost 2000 miles away. He checked a pocket watch.
He's late. This had better be worth my time. Soon, a gentleman in a red hat sat next to him.
"A lovely day, is it not,
monsieur?"
"Not for the robins. The lack of rain denies them a fresh breakfast."
"All too true."
The sequence completed, a folder was slipped into Pasternak's lap. The man with the red hat got about four steps away from the bench when two men grabbed him and quietly dragged him down an alleyway. A scuffle attracted little attention -- the streets were too busy for that -- and a moment later, one of them left the alley, tipped his hat to Pasternak, and left. Pasternak opened the envelope.
He was true to his word; these are some of the latest training manuals from the French Air Force.
Shame he had to die, but Comrade Stalin does not want a major Communist uprising right now. He wants the West distracted with Hitler while we make our own moves.
31 December 1938, Moscow
The meeting was a boisterous one, and for the first time in a while, every single member of the Politburo was early. Sokolov was due to report on the investigation into the NKVD, and a lot of people had a big stake in what he had to say. Some rumblings had indicated the dissolution of the NKVD altogether; others simply suggested that Sokolov would take both roles.
After a brief exchange of greetings, Stalin motioned to Sokolov to rise. The People's Commissar for Justice cleared his throat and began to speak...
Everything on Uritsky is my own creation. There is no historical Uritsky to my knowledge. A Moishe Uritsky did exist in the earliest days of the Cheka, but no Sergei. Everything else is true, to the best of my knowledge. Rozhdestvensky, the Russian Admiral during the Battle of Tsushima, was indeed reported dead, when in reality he had surrendered (involuntarily; he was seriously ill for a number of days after he was thrown into the ocean). Intriguing stuff, I'd say!