Chapter 12: Dmitri's Spring
It has to be said that as a "fighting nation", the Soviets, no, the Soviet Union is not the name of a nation, it should be said that the Russians, are not only good at fighting, but also good at playing. Their tough character gives them a bohemian style, and the openness of their thoughts is no less than that of the so-called freedom-loving Westerners.
Yuri found out that he had been fooled, a vicious trick. Julia, who looked delicate and introverted, was actually a little fox. Her cunning was so well hidden under her pretty face that he didn't even notice it.
A trap was set from the beginning. Yuri finally paid the price for his "showing off". The following facts proved that his level of Russian checkers was not at the same level as Julia's. He helped Olga win the first game easily, but after the stakes were raised, Julia beat him effortlessly in the second game. So, he had to cooperate with Olga in performing the "spoon and soup pot" game.
This game is definitely not suitable for children. Take a look at the props: a long-handled soup spoon and a flat-bottomed soup pot. The game requires a man and a woman to cooperate. The handle of the soup spoon is tied with a rope, and then tied to the man's waist, with the spoon hanging between his legs. The woman holds the soup pot, with the bottom facing outwards, between her legs, and close to her thighs. After the game starts, the man should move his buttocks to make the soup spoon hanging between his legs swing , and use it to hit the soup pot against the woman's thigh.
Yuri was miserable. He had never played this kind of game before. But he lost the game. Everyone in the room was nagging him. He was forced to do something, but he couldn't grasp the rhythm. His hips moved a lot, but he couldn't move the damn spoon. When his hips moved forward, the spoon moved forward, and when his hips moved back, the spoon moved back. What was even more embarrassing was that he reacted wearing winter clothes and others couldn't see it, Olga could feel it. His little face was flushed as if it was congested.
Seeing the two people making such a fool of themselves, everyone in the room was laughing like crazy. The funny Julia even rolled on the ground laughing so hard that her image as a beauty was completely thrown to the sky.
Just as Yuri was lamenting that his soup spoon could not make a sound for Olga's soup pot, dozens of kilometers away in Moscow, Colonel Dmitry drove a car through the Sretensky Gate and slowly entered the Dzerzhinsky Square - this square, which is full of the Soviet state's powerful departments, has a more familiar name: "Lubyanka Square".
The car slowed down significantly after entering the square, and Colonel Dmitri, who was sitting in the car, also became nervous. Although Colonel Dmitri's promotion process was criticized, and he was indeed promoted by reporting and framing his superiors, every time he came to this place, he would feel his heartbeat quicken and his breathing become difficult.
The car finally stopped in the parking lot in front of Building No. 2, the famous People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs building. Colonel Dmitry stayed in the car for a while before reluctantly getting out, carefully adjusted his military uniform, and walked towards the building.
The wind was freezing, but this damn place always gave people a cold feeling that was more unbearable than the wind. Colonel Dmitry didn't like this place, just like he didn't like a battlefield full of dangers.
Entering the first floor of the building from the lobby, well, the environment here can only give people a cold feeling. The floor is very high and the space is large, but the walls are covered with large white tiles, and the floor is paved with dark blue marble. Although there is a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the cold feeling brought by the color matching is still very strong.
"Hello, Comrade Sergeant," Colonel Dmitri said politely to the soldier on duty at the sentry post in the entrance hall, "I am Dmitri Mikhailovich from Leningrad, and I am here to see Comrade Fesevolod Nikolayevich Merkulov, the commissar."
The soldier looked him up and down, then looked at the ID he handed over, then turned around, walked to the phone and made a call.
The call was not long. Probably after confirming the situation, the soldier came back, handed the ID back to Dmitry, and said, "Welcome to Lubyanka. You can go in."
"Oh?" Dmitry didn't understand why the soldier said "Welcome to Lubyanka", but he didn't dare to ask more, so he just said "Thank you".
"Why welcome me?" Dmitri kept thinking about this question as he walked into the building. Was he going to be transferred here? If so, it wouldn't be a bad thing. But why was he transferred here? Or maybe he wasn't transferred here at all, but he got into trouble?
Dmitri's heart felt like there were fifteen buckets hanging in the balance, and he couldn't calm down.
It was not until he went up to the second floor in a daze that he suddenly realized that he did not seem to ask which office Comrade Merkulov was in.
Seeing an office door ajar next to him, Dmitri exhaled and walked over to ask for directions. As soon as he reached the door, he heard someone talking inside: "This is just a list of some counter-revolutionaries. You have to remember them. Of course, the most important thing is that you must be vigilant and not be deceived by the pitiful appearance of these spies and counter-revolutionaries."
Dmitri's outstretched hand trembled, and he quickly retracted it, then quickened his pace and fled away from the door.
"Who are you? What are you doing?" After taking a few steps, a young lieutenant came towards him, looked at Dmitry vigilantly and asked.
Dmitri swallowed, coughed dryly, calmed himself down, repeated what he had just said downstairs, and asked where Merkulov's office was.
The People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs was a very large department, with thousands of people working there. It was impossible for an ordinary person to know everyone. But Merkulov was different. Here, he was Comrade Lavdilian Pavlovich Beria's deputy, and the first deputy. It could be said that he was almost the second most important person in Lubyanka Building 2. Here, no one didn't know him, because anyone who didn't know him would simply make himself uncomfortable.
The young lieutenant led Dmitri to the elevator, and from there went straight up to the fourth floor. Finally, they stopped in front of an office door not far from the elevator.
Dmitri thought this was Merkulov's office, but when the lieutenant knocked on the door, a young man who looked no more than thirty years old came out.
"Comrade Fedor Alexeevich," the lieutenant said, looking at the young man coming out, "this is Comrade Colonel Dmitri. He said he received a notice from Comrade Fesevolod Nikolayevich, a comrade of the commissar, asking him to..."
"Is this Comrade Colonel Dmitri Mihajlovich?" The young man smiled and held out his hand to Dmitri, saying, "You've come just in time. Comrade Commissar is waiting for you. Come with me."
After saying this, he let go of his hand, without even looking at the lieutenant, and led Dmitri to continue walking to the right side of the corridor.
After walking seven or eight steps, the young man stopped at the door of the next room, raised his hand and knocked on the door.
"Come in," a hoarse voice came from inside.
The young man waved his hand to Dmitri, asking him to wait a moment, then he pushed the door open a crack and said, "Comrade Commissioner, Colonel Dmitri Mikhailovich is here. Is it convenient for you to see him now?"
"Let him in," said the husky voice in the room.
The young man nodded, took two steps back, turned his head and gave Dmitri a look.
Dmitri took two nervous steps forward, walked past the young man, and entered the heavy door.
The room inside the door was very spacious and luxuriously decorated. The floor was covered with thick carpet, the walls were covered with wallpaper, and there were some paintings that Dmitry could not understand. Of course, the most eye-catching thing was the huge portrait of Comrade Stalin behind the desk.
Also behind the desk, a burly, slightly plump, middle-aged man with a big, bright forehead was standing there smoking.
"Hello, Comrade Fesevolod Nikolayevich Merkulov, I am Dmitry Mihaly." Dmitry looked at the middle-aged man and introduced himself quickly.
"Well, I know your situation, Comrade Colonel," Merkulov said before he could finish his words, with a hint of impatience in his tone, "and much more than you think."
Dmitri was stunned for a moment. He had difficulty breathing and his vision was blurry. He could even vaguely hear the crisp sound of handcuffs and shackles colliding.
"Comrade Dmitri Mikhailovich, I called you here today just to inform you of a decision," Merkulov continued. "After investigation by the People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs, we found that you have a very good political background. You have worked in Leningrad for six years and served as a political commissar in the army for a long time. You are also familiar with the ugly faces of those masked counter-revolutionary conspirators. Therefore, after research by the comrades of the Internal Affairs Committee, it has been decided to transfer you here to work."
