“The displeasure is boiling at every street corner!”, said Artur with a sardonic undertone, staring at his eight comrades who had met him in Gorodok.
“Yes, that`s right. If you hear people talking, you could think that they will soon go on the streets to protest”, replied one of the men.
“People talk a lot today, and tomorrow they are lethargic again”, moaned Peter Ulljewski, Artur`s loyal follower.
”But I think, we will become even more popular for many Belarusians. Now we have to improve the structure of our organization and a public campaign has to be started!”, said Tschistokjow and folded his arms across the chest.
“You wanted to show us your new “cell system” today, right?”, remarked Igor from Orcha.
”Yes, I will! In the last weeks, I have brooded a lot about the question, how we can make our movement more effective and safer. Let me tell you my ideas.
We found sub-groups in every important region of Belarus which can operate independently from each other, with only one single leader, who is moreover the contact person. This man will be the only one who has contact to the other groups from outside and to the command. Furthermore, this leader has the only authoritiy and the right to give orders, and he will be the one who gets instructions from the command or directly from me. I will choose the leaders of the local groups in the next days.
Apart from this, we can concert actions in secret forums or on our own websites. Anyhow, we will organize our men only in local groups and cells – from now on!”
Peter took a laptop out of his bag and put it on the table. Artur told more details and his comrades seemed to be pleased concerning his plans.
The blond man added: “We have to avoid the mistake to allow any so called “democratic structures” in our organization. This would just be the thing, our enemies are waiting for. No! The movement will be build up with a strict military hierarchy – like a revolutionary army.”
“So if cell or group “X” in city “Y” is uncovered and smashed by the police, the authrorities will have much more problems to finde traces to the rest of the organization”, remarked Peter and scratched his belly.
Dimitri, a 20 years old man from Slonim said: “If we really build up such a big movement, the cops will try to infiltrate our groups with informers.”
“Who is spying for the cops and gets caught by us, gets a bullet in his head!”, hissed Tschistokjow. “We have to become tougher. In the last weeks and months, the police had got some internal informations, what can only be explained with spies in our ranks. Now it is necessary to keep a sharp eye on our own people. Informers who tell the authorities things for a few Globes, endanger our lives and we will show no mercy with them.”
The other men nodded and Artur Tschistokjow stroked through his blond hair. Then he grinned and continued with the presentation of the new organizational structure.
”All members of the Freedom Movement of the Rus will have to swear by their lives, that they keep silence!”
“And I will ensure that all Rus will stick to these rules, Artur!”, growled Peter and clenched his fists.
“What`s about weapons?”, asked one of the men now.
“It`s all in progress. However, I still see no reason to use violence – so far. We will only use it, if the cops openly attack our comrades. Otherwise, we continue to make effective publicity campaigns. We are no guerillas, but want to become a political mass movement one day”, preached Tschistokjow with a clear vision.
“Well, all right. In the coming days, we will begin with effective campaigns from north to south and across the whole country. The last event has inspired me, we are on the right way!”, said the rebel leader to his followers.
His men murmured their approval and the young leader gave instructions for further actions in the bigger cities.
They still talked for a while and Artur`s fellows really seemed to believe that their small group could start something like a revolution one day. But Tschistokjow, who outwardly looked so determined and strong, had a lot of doubts concerning his political underground struggle. If he was honest to himself, this all was just ridiculous. But what should he do? He had no other choice than going on tilting at windmills.
“Ha! Great!”, Thorsten Wilden slapped his thighs and laughed. He almost fell out of his chair.
”Okay, who can read this?”, he asked the others.
Frank tried to decipher some Cyrillic letters on the screen: “Attention, citizens! This newspaper...eh...the paper...”
“Attention, citizens! This newspaper is lying to you!”, exclaimed Wilden, laughing again.
”True words!”, muttered Alfred Bäumer and sipped his beer.
Wilden was amusing himself magnificently. The three men sat in his living room and watched the news on Belarusian television. During last night, some strangers had decorated the white facade of the editorial building of the “Belorusskaya News Gazeta” in Minsk with a few antigovernmental slogans in huge, blood-red letters. Employees of the newspaper hastily tried to whitewash the unpleasant messages, while an excited reporter was talking with a squeaky voice.
“Terrorists? This reporter has said “terrorists”! That stupid bitch! Ridiculous! Only because they have smeared a wall, they are terrorists now!”, ranted the village boss.
“They talk about this guy again, this...eh...Artur Tschistokjow. Can you translate it, Thorsten?, asked Frank.
The former businessman with the gray temples perked his eyebrows up and tried to follow the rapid chatter of the reporter.
Shortly afterwards he said: “The police suspects some members of the Freedom Movement of the Rus from Minsk. But they investigate in all directions.”
”Ha, ha!”, shouted Alf, scratching his dark beard and fetched another beer out of the fridge.
After the reporter had finished her speech, the police chief of Minsk was interviewed. He admitted, with an embarrassed face, that his men did not have a “hot trace” so far. Then the news showed a huge banner which strangers had attached on a motorway bridge. It was removed by some policemen.
“For an independent Belarus! Medschenko = Exploiter of the workers!”, was the text on the banner. This pleased the three rebels from Lithuania and they started to discuss excitedly.
“A lot has changed in the last few months. Here in Lithuania and in Belarus, many people are more than dissatisfied. Thousands of them fume with rage. When I was in Vilnius, three weeks ago, I have noticed the increase of anger when I have talked to some citizens. Raising the tax for administration is another slap in the face of the people”, said Thorsten Wilden and raised his forefinger like an university lecturer.
”Yes, a look at our Scanchip accounts tells everything, although they are just fake stuff and we luckily don`t have to work for our money. Thank HOK!”, remarked Frank.
“Meanwhile, the situation really seems to become desolate. Belarus is still poorer than I have already expected it. I`m curious to see, when the first riots will breake out”, came from Bäumer, who appeared a bit tipsy now.
“Riots? You can`t foresee such things, Alf!”, answered Wilden. “However, I like the organization of this Artur Tschistokjow. In the last days, the media have almost daily reported about the actions of these Rus.”
”We should try to make contact with them. Maybe we can work together”, suggested Frank.
”Hmmm?”, muttered Wilden thoughtfully. “We could do it. Nevertheless, it is very dangerous. We just don`t know these people and I don`t want some GSA agents running through our village tomorrow.”
“I just thought...”, returned Kohlhaas.
“If we would really contact them, for example on the Internet, we should do it together with HOK, because he knows the necessary security measures”, answered the village boss and also took another beer.
“Well, I`m interested in this group too”, said Alf with a grin.
“Damn! Just be careful! This can make us a lot of problems, boys. Let`s ask HOK”, meant the former businessman with a
serious look.
Three days later, in the last week of April, Frank and Alfred went to HOK, the computer specialist of Ivas. It was noon when they knocked on the door of the dilapidated house, in which the talented computer scientist resided, and it took a while until they heard signs of life from the hallway.
“Who`s there?”, it resounded through the front door.
“It`s us! Frank and Alf. Hurry up, buddy!”, called Kohlhaas and pounded against a shutter.
”Hach! Calm down, guys!”, heard the two visitors. Then the door opened with a faint creak.
“What's going on, HOK? You have dark circles under your eyes. What happened?”, quipped Alf.
The plump computer expert yawned and blinked at the two men.
”Oh, nothing! Yesterday, I just have been in front of the computer screen, for some hours. Can I help you?”, huffed HOK.
“May we come in?”, asked Frank demandingly.
”Oh, yes! Sure!”, muttered the computer expert and went into the house.
Frank and Alf followed him. After a brief stay in the kitchen and a few cups of coffee, HOK accompanied them to his office which was traditionally cluttered with all kinds of stuff and numerous boxes. In the middle of the room was a table with a big computer on it. The two guests told HOK their wishes and the wayward man sullenly promised to help them.
“Okay, but I must eat something at first!”, growled the fat guy and went into his kitchen, while the hum of the computer became louder.
A few minutes later, HOK jumped into the sea of datas, swimming like a happy fish from one illegal website to the next. The world of cyberspace was his element, and once he had entered it, he quickly felt well again.
“Look at this! Here they are!”, whispered the freak, after he had found the website of the freedom movement.
A white flag with a black dragon's head appeared on the screen and the slogan “Freedom for Belarus!” lit up in big letters. Now, HOK`s fingers danced with breathtaking speed over the keyboard. Frank and Alfred were amazed.
„Contact…register…login“, he whispered.
HOK registered at the Russian website and explained: “I log in from Korea, he, he!”
“Have fun, buddy!“, remarked Frank, perking his dark eyebrows up. Bäumer just grinned.
„Send message!“, said HOK silently to himself and a second later, the email was on its way.
„Hello,
We are a political group from Lithuania that also fights against the World Government. Please answer us, so that we can arrange a meeting.”
„Okay, now we`ll wait…“, spoke Kohlhaas.
“Very good, HOK! Thank you!”, said Alf. “We will only communicate with this organization from your computer, everything else would be a too high risk.”
”Security on the Internet and elsewhere in the vastness of cyberspace is uncle HOK`s specialty!”
The portly man smiled proudly and turned the computer off.
”We go now. Call us, if you have received an answer”, Frank told him. Finally, he and Alf left the house.
”Yes, all right!”, gasped HOK, shuffled into the kitchen, ate some bread and read a thick book full of science fiction stories which he had ordered on the Internet, for the rest of the day.
The prospect to meet some rebels from the neighboring regions and the thought of working together, spurred Frank and Alf to learn some more English and Russian. For things like this, there was only one truly competent partner in Ivas, Thorsten Wilden, the village boss. On the next day, Kohlhaas got up early and immediately went to Wilden`s house. In addition, there was also Thorsten`s daughter Julia, who Frank wanted to invite for dinner in the next days. Actually, she was even a more important reason to show up at the Wildens. The leader of the rebel base was proud that his extensive language skills were on demand once more, and immediately started to teach Frank in Russian. After the lesson, they talked for a while.
“I'm not sure, perhaps these Rus are just a bunch of idiots”, said Wilden.
“Well, I don`t think so. We`ll see whether there is a response to our email. What`s the worst that could happen?”, returned Kohlhaas.
“Anyhow, let`s wait and see”, said the village boss and waved his young friend nearer. “Have I already shown you my new library, Frank?”
The young man shook his head and followed Wilden into an adjoining room which had obviously been renovated only a few weeks ago. Large bookcases were everywhere around him. The gray-haired man rummaged in some boxes that were stuffed with books to the brim, and put a few more titles to the others.
“Not bad!”, said Frank, still surprised, and gaped. He had never seen so many books in his whole life, because people of his generation did not read very much anymore.
”If you want to borrow something, you just need to come and ask”, spoke the village boss. “The books are even ordered by topic. History, politics, economics and so on...”
”That`s exactly the right thing for the cold winter months in Ivas. I will remember your offer. However, when it gets dark that early, I sleep worse”, told Frank.
”Oh? Really?”, asked Wilden and was puzzled.
”Yes!”, returned his young pupil. “I think, it`s probably the aftereffect of my captivity in that holo cell. Nightmares, sleep disturbances – all that kind of stuff.”
The head of Ivas looked around quizzically. Now he had no longer an appropriate answer.
“You will survive it, my boy!”, he just said.
“Where is Julia?”, asked Kohlhaas then.
“Probably in the living room, with her mother. I have been in the office or in the library all day”, explained Wilden.
”Well, see you tomorrow!”, replied Frank, turned around and went downstairs to find Julia.
The young man smiled and cleared his throat, as the blonde woman came towards him.
”Hi, Frank! I can`t believe it – my father has let you go”, joked Julia with an astonished look.
”So to speak! He really has a beautiful book realm!”, said Kohlhaas, searching desperately for a good topic to talk about.
”Yes, Mom and me see him even more rarely now”, muttered Julia.
”I can imagine. Eh, I must go back home, Alf is waiting. We have to repair something. I just wanted to ask if you would visit me for lunch?”, remarked Kohlhaas.
”Sure! Why not? Nice idea! And when?”
The young man hesitated, while Julia looked at him with an expectant look, starting to grin. ”On Tuesday. Towards evening. I will cook something...”
“Something?”
“Eh, yes...”
“Okay! I will come at 19.00 o`clock!“, answered the daughter of the village boss with amusement and seemed to enjoy Frank`s nonplus. Kohlhaas left the house and was glad, that his beloved had accepted the invitation.
On the following day, Frank and Alfred visited HOK again. The email had been answered by a “Sergei”. Presumably, this was not his real name. A little later, they went to Wilden with the printed out message. The village boss fetched a Russian dictionary from the bookshelf and prepared himself to translate the short text. Finally, he read aloud, while his younger friends listened eagerly.
“Thank you for your message!
We are pleased that you are interested in the Freedom Movement of the Rus. Before we can meet, we ask you for a telephone call. Please call 0131/4458930.
Greetings
Sergej“
A short silence followed and Wilden scratched his grizzled head - brooding. His guests looked at him quizzically.
“Well, can you establish an untraceable and secure telephone connection for us, HOK?”, asked the village boss the computer scientist.
“Of course! This is my standard program!”, replied the computer freak. “Just follow me!”
They went to the stocky man`s house and sat down in his office. Wilden grabbed the phone, because his Russian was the best – by far. HOK switched on the speaker.
For half a minute a monotonous
hooting echoed through the untidy room, then they heard a voice at the other end of the line.
Wilden immediately started talking at breakneck speed and the two interlocutors exchanged their opinions about some basic things. The village boss did not tell the man at the other end, from where he was calling. After half an hour, they had finally arranged a meeting on 02.05.2033 in Vitebsk. The stranger asked Wilden to call him again in two days to get further informations. Then the conversation ended. Wilden briefly summarized the content of the call for the others and looked expectantly at them.
“And? What do you think?”, he wanted to know from his fellows.
”Sounds good, Thorsten! I think, it would make sense to look for some allies in the neighboring regions. Belarus is not far away from us”, said Alf.
”Maybe you`re right, but I`m still a little undecided. The name of our village must remain a secret! A top secret, got it?”, stressed Wilden with a straight face.
“Yes! Sure!”, answered Frank sullenly.
”Who of us will go to the meeting?”, asked HOK and gazed at his guests.
“I will go! No question!”, meant Wilden.
“Yes, and the whole thing is interesting for us too. After all, we`re not here for fun”, said Bäumer to Frank and nodded at him.
“Okay, I also want to meet those Russians”, remarked Kohlhaas.
“Then we have to wait until they tell us more details”, said Wilden. “This guy on the phone seemed to be all right – just a frist impression...”
Shortly afterwards, the men left HOK`s house and went back home. Frank and Alfred were full of expectation, hoping that the meeting, if it would really take place, would not disappoint them.
“I just hope that these guys are not a group of teenage pseudo-revolutionaries”, commented Frank at dinner.
“I don`t think so, because the reports about them on television were very encouraging”, returned Alfred. “Finally we will see what happens. If they are idiots, we just walk off and they never see us again.”
The next days passed fastly. Today it was Frank`s task to present Julia the promised dinner and the young man had to show himself from his best side. Moreover, he had finally decided to win her heart, although he was no expert for “women`s stuff” and love was still an unknown territory for him. Nevertheless, Frank tried everything to please his beautiful, female guest. He had cooked spaghetti and presented them his beloved with a big smile.
”Ah, that looks delicious!”, said Julia and seemed to look forward to her meal.
Frank took a true mountain of noodles from the steaming pot in the middle of the table and looked shyly at the blonde woman.
”Does it taste good?”, he asked a few minutes later.
”Yes, really. Very tasty!” Julia grinned.
Now Frank filled his plate with noodles too, and immediately started to smack. Shortly afterwards he noticed his loud smacking and cleared his throat. Julia just smiled.
”We can go to Raseiniai, if you like. It is not far from here. Eh, there is a cinema”, suggested Frank.
“You`re welcome. The main point is that we get out of this boring village. Yes, a good idea. Do you want to watch a specific movie?”, she asked.
”Uh...well...yes...don`t know. Any film is okay. There is a new film called “The Slayer – Angel of Death”...seems to be interesting...”, murmured Kohlhaas.
”What`s that for a movie?”
“Eh, nothing, forget it. Maybe this film is nothing for you. We should watch another movie, Julia”, diverted Frank.
“Sounds like some kind of horror film...”
“Well, probably a bit of horror...”
“I don`t like these movies, Frank! Let`s watch something else”, said the blonde.
“Okay!”
"Where is Alf tonight?”, she finally asked.
Frank pondered. “He is in Steffen de Vries` cafe, together with Sven. I think, they want to play skat.”
“Can I have a bit more salt, Franky?”
“Yes, of course!”
Kohlhaas jumped up immediately and hurried to the cupboard. Then he desperately looked for the small salt jar.
”Wait! It must be somewhere here...”, he muttered quietly.
Julia opened her beautiful eyes and giggled. “Yeah, all right! Don`t panic! It`s not that important...”
“Damn! It is Alf`s fault that I can`t find this stupid salt jar. That idiot!”, growled Frank silently and came back to the kitchen table.
They chatted for a while and he enjoyed the nice evening with Julia. She apparently liked his spaghetti – more or less. A few days later, they drove to the cinema in Raseiniai and watched a “weepie”, as Frank called it. But the content of the movie interested the young rebel not very much. The main point was, that Julia was sitting next to him. From time to time, he looked at the blonde woman with a hasty glance, admiring her beauty. After the film, she gave him a farewell kiss on the cheek and Frank walked back home with a happy smile and even dreamed of her in this night.
Artur Tschistokjow stared at the screen of his laptop, which illuminated the otherwise dark room a little bit.
”Group from Lithuania? Thus...”, he muttered, narrowing his eyes to slits.
“What do you think, Peter?”
“I`ve never heard of such a group. Sounds strange!”, replied his friend suspiciously.
”We have had so many new members in the last months, but an entire group has never made contact to us before”, said Tschistokjow quietly.
“Do you really want to meet them? Maybe it`s a trap!”
”What`s the worst that could happen? Yes, perhaps it is a trap - or not. We are always in danger of being trapped.”
Peter took a deep breath and seemed to be not very enthusiastic. Then the strong man with the reddish-blond hair answered: “But most of the new ones come to us after they have been recruited by men we already know. This thing is much more different, Artur!”
”I know that too. But I think, we should risk it. We need many more supporters, otherwise the movment will always crawl around on our current level.”
“Okay, then let us meet this “group”. But I will come with you – and some armed men too!”
”No, you`ll lead the movement in my place, if it is a trap and they catch me! Got it?”, hissed Tschistokjow.
”Don`t say such things...”, muttered Peter testily.
”One of them has called me yesterday, and we have chosen a meeting place, I will tell him now, that we confirm!”
A minute later, the leader of the underground group sent HOK a short email and finally informed the recipient that he was definitely willing to meet them. Then the rebel from Vitebsk turned around and stared at his longtime companion.
”You know, old boy, we are following a path that will bring us either victory or death one day. They can catch us every day. I don`t want to lead a small group of malcontents. I want to build up a revolutionary mass movement.
We have big plans, and have to reach the workers in the factories, the officials and even the sane policemen. If we want to do this, the eternal game of hide and seek will become more and more difficult anyway. Let`s hope that the social situation in this country will bring us the chaos we need. This is our only chance to succeed.”
Artur`s best friend puffed quietly and twisted his mouth. He did not give an answer and stared vacantly into space. Tschistokjow was right, and Peter Ulljewski knew it.
Conspirative Meeting