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Interlude

The Tobolsk Soviet: “We’ve got to get out of this place.”

Amidst what sounded like a war, come to their doorsteps, three members of the Tobolsk Soviet met in the house of the leader of the three, Khokhryakov. The other two were Semyon Zaslavski and Alexander Avdeev.

“What the hell can it mean?” asked Zaslavski.

“It could be anything,” said Khokhryakov. “The old guards on Citizen Romanov resisting the new men under Yurovsky? The Omsk men trying to take control themselves? A bloody free for all? Or . . . you know . . . maybe even something else.”

Avdeev, who would miss his opportunities to steal from the townsfolk’s largesse toward their former ruler and his family, observed, “Whatever it is, it bodes no good for us. I think it’s time to leave.”

“Not just yet,” said Pavel. “Wherever we might go there are going to be questions, and we had better be prepared to answer them. Here’s what we’ll do: Alexander, your face is too well known to all the parties, and not well enough liked. You go beg, borrow, or steal us a good sleigh with horses. Bring them here.”

“Yes, comrade,” the former keeper of the Romanovs agreed.

“Semyon, you are not as well known. Get as close as you safely can to the sound of the fighting and collect whatever information is safe to collect. Even rumors will be better than nothing.”

“Agreed,” said Zaslavski. “And what will you be doing?”

“I’m going to empty my house of food, drink, and blankets. Then all of us together are going to trek to Tyumen and get the word to Moscow and Saint Petersburg.”


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Framed