“When it’s over, we get the kikes.”
Grishin smiled.
“My personal gift.”
“Done.”
They fixed details for the NRM to rendezvous in the gardens of Pushkinskaya Square, three hundred yards up the road from the mansion that housed the government of the city of Moscow. It would not look out of keeping. The square was opposite the principal McDonald’s.
In due course, mused Grishin as he was driven away, the Jews of Moscow would indeed be taken care of, but so would the scum of the NRM. It would be amusing to put them in the same trains heading east, all the way to Vorkhuta.
On the morning of December 31, Jason Monk called Major General Petrovsky again. He was in his office at the already half-staffed GUVD headquarters in Shabolovka Street.
“Still at your post?”
“Yes, damn you.”
“Does the GUVD run a helicopter?”
“Of course.”
“Can it fly in this weather?”
Petrovsky peered out the barred window at the low, lead-gray clouds.
“Not up into that lot. But below it, I suppose.”
“Do you know the locations of the camps of Grishin’s Black Guard around this city?”
“No, but I can find out. Why?”
“Why don’t you take a flight over all of them?”
“Why should I?”
“Well, if they are peace-loving citizens, all the barracks lights should be on, with everyone inside in the warmth, having a noggin before lunch and preparing for an evening of harmless festivities. Take a look. I’ll call you back in four hours.”
When the callback came, Petrovsky was subdued.
“Four of them appear closed down. His personal camp, northeast of here, is alive like an anthill. Hundreds of trucks being serviced. He seems to have moved the whole force to the one camp.”
“Why would he do that, General?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know. But I don’t like it. It smacks of a nocturnal exercise.”
“On New Year’s Eve? Don’t be crazy. Every Russian gets drunk on New Year’s Eve.”
“My point exactly. Every soldier in Moscow will be plastered by midnight. Unless they are ordered to stay sober. Not a popular order, but as I said, there will be other New Year’s Eves. Do you know the commanding officer of the OMON regiment?”
“Of course. General Kozlovsky.”
“And the commander of the Presidential Security Guard?”
“Yes, General Korin.”
“Both now with their families?”