Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“Your Excellency!” the duty officer sputtered, but Zhanna was already halfway across the room, aimed straight for the Supreme Ruler at the head of the conference table.

“They told me you were not in your office, but Saint Marina said I would find you here, and so I have,” the Maid declared as sparks of anger lit up her eyes.

The four men rose in unison with a clatter of chairs.

“Congratulations on your victories, Zhanna Stepanovna,” Dieterichs greeted her with forced amiability. “You have set the Bolsheviks back on their heels in a way none of us foresaw.”

“Thank you, general,” the Maid replied politely. “It is good to hear it from your lips. Would that I had heard it sooner, and from certain others.” Here she gave a respectful nod toward Admiral Kolchak before addressing Dieterichs once again. “Instead, I received a message from the Chief of Staff that my brigade has been diverted to Orenburg, away from the Volga, where we meant to engage with the enemy. While I didn’t expect gratitude from the Stavka, neither did I expect a demotion.”

“No demotion was intended, I’m sure,” the Supreme Ruler responded with an indecipherable look. “Doubtless you will play an important role in future actions.”

“With all due respect, Your Excellency, you and I both know that, once I leave this room, General Lebedev will do everything in his power to hold me back. How much closer must our army come to ruin before you dismiss the man for incompetence?”

Kolchak drew a sharp breath, as if she had dealt him a blow. But Dieterichs rescued his superior from having to respond.

“In all fairness, Zhanna Stepanovna, it is not proper to discuss General Lebedev’s performance in his absence. If you only knew the number of times that naysayers have come to me with similar complaints about you… But we gave you a chance and now you have proven yourself worthy.”

“As Lebedev has been given his chance, over and over, with the opposite result,” Zhanna countered with a steely look. “From the day his spring offensive opened, the Chief of Staff has made one ruinous decision after another. Your Excellency, one doesn’t need to hear heavenly Voices to know that such setbacks won’t stop until you install a new Chief of Staff and replace the entire Stavka with a better class of officer.”

Ned diverted his gaze from Zhanna and the two Russians long enough to note a faint smile lurking beneath Colonel Ward’s heavy mustache. A moment later, Dieterichs pulled out a chair and gestured for the Maid to be seated.

“Zhanna, please have a seat with us,” he said in a voice husky with fatigue. The girl hesitated before sitting, as if considering whether to turn on her heel and leave. Ned and the others returned to their seats, as well.

“Now, I beg you to listen, young lady,” Dieterichs began. “I have given you my support from the start and was among the first to recognize the value of your victories at Uralsk, Buzuluk, and now Yershov. What you have achieved is extraordinary for any commander, let alone one of your age and inexperience. But General Lebedev has also made his contributions, and has been a trusted member of our leadership for many months. For that reason…”

But Zhanna had anticipated his response.

“And he has had your ear the entire time, methodically excluding contrary voices from your high counsels. Please allow me two minutes to make my case, and if you find it reasonable, let us bring the Chief of Staff here to answer for himself.”

“The Maid has earned that much, to be sure,” Admiral Kolchak declared before setting his dark eyes on Zhanna. “You may speak.”

“My complaints against General Lebedev and his Stavka can be reduced to three points,” Zhanna began.

“First, I urge General Lebedev’s dismissal for the failure to properly plan, execute, and support the spring offensive. To reward failure is to encourage more of it.

“Second, I urge his dismissal for recklessness in underestimating the Red Army’s size and strength, for failing to prepare for its counteroffensive, and for advancing east of the Belaya River without adequate reserves.

“Third, I urge dismissal for poor choice of field commanders and senior staff, failure to exert effective leadership, neglect of military discipline, and turning a blind eye to waste and corruption. We depend on our Allied friends for virtually all of our arms and supplies. How long can we ask them to give us weapons that wind up straightaway in Bolshevik hands?”

Zhanna turned now to the Supreme Ruler and traded her prosecutorial manner for one of rustic simplicity.

“Your Excellency, the hen is sitting, but where are the eggs?”

Dieterichs leveled a stern look at the Maid before responding quickly so as to spare Kolchak once more from answering.