It was a cold morning and light drizzle came from the sky in thin threads. Frank and Alfred reached the village center, where they were already expected by dozens of men and women. Wilden hastened to welcome them. He grinned broadly and waved them nearer. Julia followed him.
“We`re ready! You can drive with me!”, he said and shook the hands of the two men who still looked bleary.
Now the other villagers went to their cars too. The group of young men from Ivas, which was led by Sven, had already left the village to met Artur Tschistokjow and his comrades.
”I`m really curious about all this!”, whispered Frank, following the village boss to his car. Alf yawned and said that he wanted to have a nap during the trip to Schtewatj.
“At least, Julia is here!”, thought Frank and looked at the blonde woman, who also did not seem to be well rested.
Michael Ziegler, a shy young man, who had shirked the military mission in Japan, drove with them. Frank sat behind Wilden, together with Julia on the backseat. Finally, they started their trip to Schtewatj, where they expected a great event.
”Are you happy to come with us, Julia?”, asked Kohlhaas the pretty blonde.
“We will see...”, she muttered. “My father says, it will be an impressive day.”
“He always says that...”, replied Frank, clapping on Wilden`s shoulder.
“You will love it! Artur has mobilized a lot of people!”, said the village boss and started to whistle silently.
His daughter just grinned. Meanwhile, Frank gaped at her, preoccupied in thoughts, admiring her long, slender legs, quickly looking out the window again, when the young woman started to smile at him.
“You seem to like it, don`t you, Franky?”, she joked and opened her blue eyes.
“Uh, yes, yes! I am already looking forward to the...rally...”, he stammered awkwardly.
“I hope, that we won`t have as big troubles as in Nowopolozk!”, moaned Bäumer and closed his eyes to doze for a while.
“No, that`s just unrealistic. This is a quite rural area, far away from any bigger cities. I don`t think that the cops will harass us there”, said the village boss confidently.
“Nevertheless, I have a queasy feeling about it”, remarked Julia and Frank had the want to hug her for a short moment. But he checked himself and behaved.
“We will protect you, so don`t worry!”, he said then.
She just nodded and looked quietly out the window. Frank was bemused and stared at her narrow, red lips which trembled slightly as the car jolted over a badly paved road. Her profile was glorious, thought Kohlhaas, like a statue from ancient Greece, with an aristocratic, long face, a pointed chin and a well-shaped nose. Julia looked like the prototype of a nordic goddess.
“Hmmm...”, hummed Frank, beholding her with mouth agape. Suddenly, Julia turned to him.
“What`s up?”, she asked.
“What? Nothing! I just pondered...about the rally. Let`s see how many comrades will...uh...come. Important is that... it is important that all men come...”, explained the young man nervously.
“Yes!”, was her short answer. Wilden`s daughter made her lips to a thin, red line and still looked out the window, ignoring Frank. Her father started to whistle again and lectured at this time, for once, not about world politics. But today, he had still a lot of opportunities to talk about his favorite topic.
The trip to Schtewatj lasted almost seven hours. Sometimes the car drove over ruined streets full of weed, which was sprouting between the large cracks and holes in the asphalt. They drove past Minsk and finally reached an abandoned rural region. Here, the roads were nothing but muddy, long paths. Eventually, they came to a small village.
Anyway, Frank had somehow enjoyed the trip. He had never been in Julia`s proximity that long and had tried to use the opportunity for longer conversations with her. He had often talked about politics. Thorsten Wilden, Alfred and Michael Ziegler had talked about nothing else too, but the young woman had soon had enough from their revolutionary plans and had tried to find a more interesting topic – without success.
Sometimes Alf had briefly turned around, grinning ambiguously at his friend. But this trip was not the right occasion to flirt with Julia, especially since her father was the driver of the car. However, Wilden had only one thing on his mind, as always - politics!
The village streets were over and over clogged with people. Hundreds, even thousands of visitors had gathered here, and the fields around the village were full of cars.
”My goodness, what a crowd!”, called Wilden and drove the car slowly through a group of friendly smiling men.
“The show starts in one hour...”, said Alfred eagerly.
The large number of people almost looked like a small army, and Frank rapturously stared at the growing mass around him. Soon after, they parked the car next to a field road and walked to the venue, a large meadow with a big stage. A rock band played here and some Russian youths were dancing pogo and yelling loudly. At some distance, they could see a group of Tschistokjow`s guardsmen who wore gray shirts and black trousers. Apparently the new dress code had already gained acceptance. A few of the uniformed men had rifles and watched out for suspicious people who joined the crowd in front of them.
Wilden called Tschistokjow on his cellphone and the tall, blond man came to them after a few minutes. He happily welcomed the Germans and shook their hands with a broad smile.
”That`s great, isn`t it?”, said the Russian proudly.
Wilden was more than impressed. “Yes, this is amazing, Artur!”
“Amazing?”, Tschistokjow was puzzled and seemed to think about the meaning of the word.
”This is just great!”, explained Frank, still smiling.
“Ah, yes! This is the biggest meeting of our freedom movement that ever was!”
“How many people have come here today?”, asked the village boss.
“I think 7000 people, perhaps even more...”, replied the Russian.
”Gosh!”, exclaimed Bäumer enthusiastically.
Artur looked at him quizzically. “What does this mean again?”
”This is great!”, translated Frank with a grin.
“Ha, ha! Yes! Very great, my friends! Today is a big day for our organization”, said the blond man.
The politician finally walked away and went to another group, while his friends from Ivas decided to glance around. Some Russians eyeballed them carefully. Obviously, not everyone of Artur`s men liked non-Russian guests. But the most of them had nothing against Germans or other people of European descent. Frank, Alf, Wilden, Julia and Michael soon stood in the middle of the crowd, eyeing the venue a little more closely. Some members of the freedom movement were selling T-shirts, flags and CD`s at some stalls.
Somewhere, a group of young people was singing a Russian song and the raspy voice of the singer of the rock band could still be heard in the background. It was a tremendous bustle and more and more new guests still came to the little village. Now Tschistokjow could be recognized between some Russian activists, looking at his German comrades and waving them nearer.
“This is Viktor from Grodno! He is one of my best men!”, explained the leader of the Rus.
A young, athletic man who probably was in the mid-twenties, bowed politely and shook their hands. He even winked at Julia and said, “It is nice to meet such a beautiful person today!”
The young woman smiled and immediately blushed. Frank perked his eyebrows up and gave Viktor an angry look.
”Thanks!”, breathed Julia and smiled at Viktor.
“I must speak with a few other people. See you soon, my friends!”, said Tschistokjow and disappeared again.
Viktor remained. He was talking to Julia, in English. She giggled quietly and seemed to be quite impressed by him.
The rebel from Grodno was undoubtedly handsome, Frank had to admit this, deep inside. His light brown hair easily hung over his steel-blue eyes and his body was tall and thoroughly fit. He looked like an Olympic athlete.
Viktor finally took Julia to the side, and even told her that he wanted to introduce her to some of his friends. A moment later, she had disappeared with him in the crowd.
Frank tried to dissemble his feelings, but this scenario did not please him at all.
“What does this guy want from Julia?”, he asked himself, turning his head to look at Alf.
“Come on, let`s walk around a bit”, said Bäumer, while Frank pulled a face. He tried to discover Julia somewhere in the crowd, but he had lost sight of her.
Shortly afterwards, the rock band left the stage and the people moved together. A man in a gray shirt checked the functioning of the speakers, then Artur Tschistokjow went to the microphone.
He was welcomed with a deafening applause, while dragon head banners and Russia flags were waved. The dissident politician immediately started to speak, in front of over 7000 men and women.
Tschistokjow was not nervous, to the contrary, he beheld the cheering crowd and was sure that his struggle had not been in vain. This event was only a small victory, but a first one, as he thought.
Meanwhile, Frank, Alf and Wilden stood in the first rank, looking up to the leader of the Rus, who delivered his speech with passion.
“You must translate it!”, said Kohlhaas to the village boss.
“Yes, no problem”, returned Wilden.
Now, Tschistokjow spoke with a powerful voice and a loud murmur went through the audience. He introduced himself to the many new supporters of his organization, thanked them for coming and evoked the unity and strength of the Rus.
Then he promised his followers that the Belarusian revolution would come in the near future, and that the traitors in Minsk would soon lose their power - as Wilden translated. The crowd was clapping.
“He is profoundly persuasive...”, remarked Kohlhaas and the village boss looked enthusiastically at the stage.
“He is a brilliant speaker! I love listening to him”, said the former businessman, gazing in abstraction at the Russian.
Tschistokjow attacked the Medschenko government with bitter words and explained his audience its crimes against land and people. He furthermore promised that the old Belarus would be born again one day, what his supporters liked to hear.
“This is our land! We don`t want any foreign troops here!”, Frank could understand. Again, a thunderous applause surged across the large meadow.
The leader of the Rus became more and more enraged now, and electrified the crowd like a true propagandist. Men and women were hanging on Tschistokjow`s every word and were cheering still louder.
After an hour, the speech was suddenly interrupted by a loud rotor noise. Three police helicopters were circling above their heads and the crowd was shaken by nervousness like a herd of animals. Some guardsmen pointed their guns at the sky and threatened the helicopters which were apparently filming the participants of the event and the parked cars. Tschistokjow vigorously called his followers to order, and asked them to ignore the provocation.
Frank ducked and pushed his black cap even deeper into his face, then he put on his sunglasses. Hundreds of people around him also began to mum.
“Oh, great. I was already wondering that no cops have noticed all this yet. Such a big event, it is impossible to keep it a secret”, whispered Kohlhaas.
“The Belarusian cops won`t dare to attack a crowd like this, Frank. Not here in this rural area. They just film us...”, muttered Bäumer, hiding his face behind a black scarf.
“It is enough if they just collect new informations by filming the people and the license plates of our cars. I`m afraid that some guys here will be visited in the next days and weeks.”
“Our license plates are just fakes...”, said Bäumer.
“Yes, I know, but I don`t think that everyone here has taken the same precautions!”
“Don`t worry! The Belarusian cops are just underpaid and listless idiots. This is “Eastern Europe” – not “Central Europe”. I`m not afraid of those morons...”, remarked Wilden confidently.
After a while, the police helicopters just disappeared and Tschistokjow continued his speech with the usual enthusiasm. He called his supporters up, not to be intimidated and to remain steadfast in the face of “state terror”.
For a further hour, he preached his doctrine to the listeners. Then he finally finished the rally. The singing an old patriotic song which Tschistokjow had made to the official anthem of his freedom movement, several weeks ago, ended the event. All Rus waved their flags, cheered and went back home then.
Frank and Alf did not see the politician again for the rest of this day, because he immediately left the place, together with Peter Ulljewsik and some other comrades. When they came back to their car, Julia was already waiting for them – and Viktor stood smiling beside her. The handsome Russian said goodbye to the young woman, kissed her hand and finally departed. Frank gave him a black look and got into the car.
“Where have you been all the time?”, grumbled Kohlhaas at Julia.
“I was walking around with Viktor and some of his friends. He is so hilarious. Unfortunately, he can only speak English”, she chirped and looked pleased.
“What a pity...”, returned Frank.
“Yes, you should get to know him. He is so funny, and soon he wants to visit us in Ivas.”
“What?”, gasped Frank and almost exploded. He could not believe his ears.
“Well, he wants to become acquainted with all of us...”
“He wants to...? Good for him!”, muttered Frank, staring straight ahead through the windshield.
An endless line of cars was clogging the muddy road in front of them, and now they could only drive at snail`s pace.
Wilden decided to use the extended break and explained everyone, even those, who did not want to hear it, the political importance of today`s event. He spoke of the “growing power of Tschistokjow`s movement”, the “revolutionary potential” and the “cowardly state authority”.
Bäumer saw things differently and started to argue with the village boss. He was suspicious enough to be able to guess that the police had just used another strategy today, by filming the rally. The Rus had openly shown themselves and the helicopter had made enough pictures that the police could start a new wave of arrests in the next time.
Frank did not care about all this, for now. He felt deeply offended, because he had waited for Julia the whole day, like a silly boy. Already now, he found Viktor as sympathic as a frostbitten toe. Finally he did not talk with her for the rest of the trip, not a single word, just trying to ignore her, fuming with rage.
The visitors from Ivas reached their village without any problems, because they had avoided to drive on any freeways or important routes. This had indeed taken a lot of time, but had finally saved them from police checks.
Other participants were less fortunate. Several dozens of cars had been stopped by the police in the area around Schtewatj and soon the frist Rus had found themselves in a giant trap. The officers had never had the intention to attack over 7000 partly violent and armed supporters of the freedom movement directly, and had just waited till the crowd had dissolved again, to catch one Rus after another on the roads. This was much easier for them. Smaller groups of cars had been stopped by the cops, and hundreds of men and women were brought to jail. But this was only the beginning.
While Wilden and the leader of the Rus still believed that they had beaten the often listless appearing authorities once more, the police stroke back now – in a way, they had never expected. Meanwhile, GSA agents, partially flown in from the administrative sectors “Central Europe” and even “North America”, propelled the Belarusian police and supported them in their fight against political dissidents.
With the numerous car plates which had been filmed by the police helicopters, many young and inexperienced members of Tschistokjow`s organization could be easily idenitfied in the following days. Shortly afterwards, a wave of house searches and arrests shook whole Belarus. Those who fell
into the nets of the system, were confronted with long interrogations and even torture.
Until end of September, about 50 cell and group leaders of the Freedom Movement of the Rus had been arrested by the police. All men, playing major roles in Tschistokjow`s organization, were jailed for a long time or even liquidated.
Because of this unexpected storm, Artur Tschistokjow fell into a deep hole of depression and anxiety. He no longer left his small two-room apartment in Pinsk and avoided any contact to other members of his organization, except for his best friend Peter Ulljewski who occasionally visited him in the middle of the night. Now, the freedom movement had to face a brutal attack and seemed to be totally overwhelmed with the ruthless counterstrike of the system. Tschistokjow was soon isolated and his organization started to crumble without his leadership.
It Could Always be Worse...