10.3 The Spy Who Came Out of Nowhere

There came a loud bang on the metal door as a guard struck it with his baton. Tyler woke up from sleep squatting on the floor with his diary in his hand. There came loud yelling and then the door unlocked. One of the gvardiya pulled him out speaking Russian. He could not stretch his legs or stand on his knees that instant but the gvardiya pushed him out of the narrow corridor into the bright lights in the hallway. His knees screamed and his eyes blinded of sudden light. There were three prisoners and a guard with baton ready in his hand frisked them. Then it came to his turn and the guard snatched his diary from his hand. Another gvardiya uttered something and the guard tossed it back to his hand. They carried Mosin sniper rifles on their shoulders. Then he was given a big cloth bag filled with stuff that he checked much later. It contained two sets of apparels, a shuba jacket, gumboots, an ushanka hat, a pair of gloves, a shaving kit, a towel, all used stuff, a toothbrush, a torch and a pack of Belomorkanal cigarettes. Someone somewhere though kitted him. Each person was handed a piece of paper which was in Russian and a breakfast package. Voices carried on in the hallway as they geared the prisoners for transport. They were steered out into the murky cold night. Tyler Friesen could see nothing around except a couple of streetlights on the posts. They climbed a prison van waiting for them which was a top-covered GAZ-67 half truck with a roaring engine.

It rolled on five or seven minutes. Tyler watched as the headlights of the truck swung from one street to another in the dark night. They were broad empty roads with distant streetlights. No traffic, no signposts, no road signs, no billboards and no one out there. It looked like some place right out of a spy movie.

The vehicle stopped by a red wall in a dark alley. He noticed a spread of light over this wall blanketing the black sky. They were ushered through an administrative building or it was just a floor apart from a few troopers he saw. Tyler noticed a clock on a wall that read 5:10 in the morning. On the other side of this building, there lay rows of railway tracks and a train waiting in the station. There were voices and soon he figured a small crowd in dark silhouettes near the coaches. There were some two dozen prisoners from all walks of life – criminals, thieves, sex offenders, paedophiles, murderers, hookers, addicts, homosexuals, migrants and bandits. Incarceration rate of Soviet Union was not known. Some of them would carry proper prison certificates and others would not. Most of them were not provided with necessities. Here the guards wore black coats and armed with Makarov pistols on their leather belts.

They were calling their names to board the train. Tyler blew on his cold fingers while waiting for his name to be called. He was without gloves and temperature had fallen to 44° F.

“William Murphy! William Murphy!”

“You!” cried a guard near him.

“Me!” uttered Tyler vacantly.

“Number!” He checked the number on his paper flashing a torch, “7349. You!” He pushed him forward.

He reached the officer, “My name is Tyler Friesen and I am an American.”

“You are Irish!” he uttered in Russian, “Get in the train!” He gave a shove on his shoulder.

Tyler Friesen climbed the car elevated three and half feet above its carriage. One might think Russian cars were old. It was old and hot. These types of prisoner transport wagons were known as ‘Stolypin’ but in truth, Pyotr Stolypin initiated a transport system in his agrarian reforms to bring an end to slavery by distributing land in Siberia to peasants who would volunteer to go. Inside the Stolypin, there were a row of small compartments and he was ushered to a two square metre cell with three bunks on one wall.

“Where are we going?” he flung a hand gesture, “Where?”

The gvardiya said, “Kazan,” and locked the grid metal door. He was luckily the only one in his cell.

They supplied a bottle of water to each prisoner and the lights went out. The wagon doors closed. It began to grow hot inside. The waiting was long; 16 hours. Meals served twice on bread and soup – Russian cabbage soup, alias ‘KGB soup’ – shchi.