Maid of Baikal: A Novel of the Russian Civil War

“Then our discussion remains theoretical?” Lebedev questioned, with a raised eyebrow and a sidelong glance toward the Admiral.

“You may say that, general, inasmuch as we have not received your written agreement to our terms,” Ward answered, also turning to face the Supreme Ruler.

“And, as I recall, your terms include American and British operation of the wireless kits?” Here Lebedev gave Ward a magisterial frown, as if he were God regarding his Creation on the third day.

“That is correct, sir,” Ward answered coolly.

“Refresh my memory, if you please, Colonel Ward,” Lebedev resumed, leaning forward and focusing his gaze on the colonel. “If the purpose of the wireless network is to enhance military coordination and facilitate access to Allied intelligence, why not simply turn the equipment over to the Stavka and let us operate it, with training and maintenance from your side?”

“Because that was not our offer,” Ward explained with narrowed eyes and a hard edge to his voice. Ward clearly had no intention of letting Lebedev run an Allied show. “We offered you a reliable, smoothly running wireless network, which is possible only under Allied control.”

“But, surely, you don’t expect us to permit Allied intelligence to read every message we send and receive,” Lebedev pointed out with a theatrically raised eyebrow. “This is a Russian war, after all, being fought on Russian soil at the expense of Russian lives.”

Admiral Kolchak’s expression did not change; the other Russians bit their tongues. To Ned, the tension was palpable.

“Of course we will respect your internal communications,” Ward answered with a weary shake of his outsized head. “All wireless messages from the Stavka to its field commanders will be delivered to our cipher clerks in encrypted form, and will remain unreadable to anyone but your men. But Allied intermediation is essential if you wish to communicate with Allied leaders or receive Allied intelligence reports.”

Ward turned to Ned, as if soliciting his concurrence. Ned responded with an emphatic nod of support, offered first to Ward, and then to Lebedev and Kolchak, all the while hoping and praying that Ward didn’t call on him to elaborate. For the fact was that Allied codebreakers were perfectly capable of defeating most Siberian encryption and would be instructed to do so at every turn.

Lebedev tapped his fat forefinger against the side of his nose, as if pondering an intricate chess move, then faced his visitor with a petulant scowl.

“And what do the Allies gain by offering us such a wireless network?”

Ward leaned forward with his elbows on the conference table and addressed Lebedev with the same easy sense of superiority with which he might address one of his own regiment’s junior officers.

“The same benefits that we derive from sending your armed forces and those of General Denikin nearly ten thousand tons of weapons and other military supplies each month,” he pointed out with a cold smile. “We want you to defeat the Bolsheviks.”

“For that we are most grateful,” Lebedev responded, his face contorted. “But, in the final analysis, our gratitude for such assistance cannot extend to allowing the British to control our communications.”

Admiral Kolchak’s face darkened at this, making Ned wonder whether Lebedev had taken a step too far. For, in truth, the Siberians were so dependent on Allied military aid that they were in no position to dictate terms to the British on anything.

“But of course, general,” Ward assured Lebedev, more relaxed now that he seemed to have gained the upper hand. “As always, the British Military Mission is prepared to render as much or as little guidance as the Stavka is willing to accept.”

“And has General Denikin agreed to extend your wireless network to his command in South Russia?” Kolchak interrupted, drawing all eyes to him. “And General Yudenich in the North?”

“They say they will, once you have agreed to it, Your Excellency,” Ward informed him.

“And the equipment has sufficient range to reach both locations, as well as British ships in the Black and the Barents Seas?” Kolchak added.

“I believe so,” Ward answered. “But perhaps Captain du Pont would be in a better position to answer that question. Captain?”

Ned felt Ward’s eyes burning holes in his tunic, and knew that it was up to him to banish any Siberian doubts. But he had only seen the equipment once for a brief demonstration, and had been given only a general description of its range and capabilities. More than that, he had only recently mastered the Russian terms for such equipment by reference to an English-Russian technical dictionary.

“I am quite confident that the transceivers intended for Omsk are capable of communicating both with General Denikin at Novo-Rossiysk and with British ships in the Black Sea,” Ned assured the Admiral with the composure he knew was expected of him. “More distant locations can be reached easily via relay stations, including London, Paris, Washington, Tokyo, and most all of Siberia and Manchuria.”