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"Someone has been lying to you. " Grigori turned and raised his voice to address the bystanders. "The prime minister, Comrade Kerensky, has sacked General Kornilov, but Kornilov won't go, and that's why he has sent you to attack Petrograd. "
There was a murmur of disapproval.
The colonel looked awkward: he knew Grigori was right. "Enough of these lies!" he blustered. "Get out of here now, Sergeant, or I'll shoot you down. "
Grigori said: "Don't touch your weapon, Colonel. Your men have a right to the truth. " He looked at the growing crowd. "Don't they?"
"Yes!" said several of them.
"I don't like everything Kerensky has done," said Grigori. "He has brought back the death penalty and flogging. But he is our revolutionary leader. Whereas your General Kornilov wants to destroy the revolution. "
"Lies!" the colonel said angrily. "Don't you men understand? This sergeant is a Bolshevik. Everyone knows they are in the pay of Germany!"
The corporal said: "How do we know who to believe? You say one thing, Sergeant, but the colonel says another. "
"Then don't believe either of us," Grigori said. "Go and find out for yourselves. " He raised his voice to make sure everyone could hear him. "You don't have to hide in this school. Go to the nearest factory and ask any worker. Speak to soldiers you see in the streets. You'll soon learn the truth. "
The corporal nodded. "Good idea. "
"You'll do no such thing," said the colonel furiously. "I'm ordering you all to stay within the grounds. "
That was a big mistake, Grigori thought. He said: "Your colonel doesn't want you to inquire for yourselves. Doesn't that show you that he must be telling you lies?"
The colonel put his hand on his pistol and said: "That's mutinous talk, Sergeant. "
The men stared at the colonel and at Grigori. This was the moment of crisis, and death was as near to Grigori as it had ever been.
Suddenly Grigori realized that he was at a disadvantage. He had been so caught up in the argument that he had failed to plan what to do when it ended. He had his rifle over his shoulder, but the safety lock was engaged. It would take several seconds to swing it off his shoulder, turn the awkward knob that unlocked the safety catch, and lift the rifle into firing position. The colonel could draw and shoot his pistol a lot faster. Grigori felt a wave of fear, and had to suppress an urge to turn and run.
"Mutiny?" he said, playing for time, trying not to let fear weaken the assertive tone of his voice. "When a sacked general marches on the capital, but his troops refuse to attack their legitimate government, who's the mutineer? I say it's the general-and those officers who attempt to carry out his treasonable orders. "
The colonel drew his pistol. "Get out of here, Sergeant. " He turned to the others. "You men, go into the school and assemble in the hall. Remember, disobedience is a crime in the army-and the death penalty has been restored. I'll shoot anyone who refuses. "
He pointed his gun at the corporal.
Grigori saw that the men were about to obey the authoritative, confident, armed officer. There was now only one way out, he saw in desperation. He had to kill the colonel.
He saw a way. He would have to be very quick indeed, but he thought he could probably do it.
If he was wrong he would die.
He slipped his rifle off his left shoulder and, without pausing to switch it to his right hand, he thrust it forward as hard as he could into the colonel's side. The sharp point of the long bayonet ripped through the cloth of the uniform, and Grigori felt it sink into the soft stomach. The colonel gave a shout of pain, but he did not fall. Despite his wound he turned, swinging his gun hand around in an arc. He pulled the trigger.
The shot went wild.
Grigori pushed on the rifle, thrusting the bayonet in and up, aiming for the heart. The colonel's face twisted in agony and his mouth opened, but no sound came out, and he fell to the ground, still clutching his pistol.
Grigori withdrew the bayonet with a jerk.
The colonel's pistol fell from his fingers.
Everyone stared at the officer writhing in silent torment on the parched grass of the playground. Grigori unlocked the safety on his rifle, aimed at the colonel's heart, and fired at close range twice. The man became still.
"As you said, Colonel," Grigori said. "It's the death penalty. "
{V}
Fitz and Bea took a train from Moscow accompanied only by Bea's Russian maid, Nina, and Fitz's valet, Jenkins, a former boxing champion who had been rejected by the army because he could not see farther than ten yards.
