"Haha!" Khrushchev laughed heartily, lifting his hand to wipe his oily face. "Ivan, you've been hiding something from me. Earlier you told me about this young man, Viktor Tarasov, who is very capable. Not only is he outstanding in his work, but he also seems to have a brain fit for diplomacy."
During their recent conversation, Viktor had answered twice, and both times his responses were flawless. He had said everything Khrushchev wanted to hear. Finding fault with him wouldn't be easy.
Earlier, Khrushchev criticized Podkopayev, accusing him of betraying the country's interests. What did that mean? Viktor wasn't present, so he didn't know the context, but he could deduce that for whatever reason, Khrushchev didn't want to wait until June next year to hold the referendum. He wanted to settle this matter as soon as possible.
What did "as soon as possible" mean? Simply put, it meant holding the referendum promptly and making sure it was conducted openly. Ultimately, the result had to be Western Ukraine's integration into the Soviet Union. Failing any of these conditions meant it wasn't done right.
Khrushchev was a forceful person, especially at work. He couldn't accept subordinates questioning him. Earlier, when he asked Podkopayev, it wasn't to hear his advice but to ensure he would push for the referendum in Lviv and guarantee the outcome met his expectations.
Podkopayev clearly didn't grasp Khrushchev's intentions. He chose to speak honestly, based on practical circumstances.
Podkopayev, an engineer-turned-administrator, respected facts and didn't engage in deception. His low profile and sincerity had helped him evade the purge in the past two years. However, he wasn't a qualified politician. He didn't understand that in politics, adhering to the truth was not enough; one needed to uphold the correct political stance.
In Viktor's responses, he emphasized from the outset that integrating Western Ukraine into the Union was in line with the Union's interests. With this premise, the timing of the referendum was inconsequential because regardless of the actual result, only the most advantageous outcome for the Union would be presented to the world.
In summary, the process didn't matter; only the result did.
"Lieutenant Viktor Viktorovich Tarasov has always been a cautious and thoughtful person," Sherov calmly remarked from behind. As he said this, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he looked at Viktor.
Khrushchev nodded, his shiny forehead contrasting in the light. After nodding, he continued walking forward but stopped abruptly after a couple of steps. He turned back to Viktor and said, "Yevgraf has prepared lunch for everyone. You should join us. Perhaps Comrade Fyodorov would like to have a chat with you."
With that said, he walked straight into the stairwell, leaving everyone else behind.
"Come, Viktor, let me introduce you," Sherov, who hadn't left yet, said with a hint of explanation. He pointed to the sturdy, square-faced middle-aged man in casual attire with a serious expression. "This is Comrade Fyodor Vasilyevich Merkulov, Deputy People's Commissar of Internal Affairs and Director of the State Security Administration."
Viktor was taken aback and quickly stood straight, saluting. "I salute you, Comrade Deputy Fyodor Vasilyevich Merkulov."
As a member of the People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs himself, Viktor naturally knew who the second-in-command was. Yes, it was this man before him. In terms of position, he was much higher than Sherov—being Beria's deputy, he was essentially second in command at the People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs. Moreover, this man was Beria's classmate...
Upon closer thought, the current People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs indeed seemed like Beria's domain. Merkulov, as the deputy, was his classmate; Mir Jafar Bagirov, responsible for the Azerbaijan People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs, was also his classmate; Bogdan Zakharovich Kobulov, in charge of the Moscow People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs, was his classmate; and Sergei Arsenievich Goglidze, overseeing the Georgian People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs, was also his classmate... In terms of installing trusted individuals, Beria had far surpassed his predecessor.
Returning Viktor's salute, Merkulov didn't bother with pleasantries and directly asked, "Comrade Viktor Viktorovich, please explain to me why the work of eliminating state enemies in Lviv hasn't begun?"
This man exuded authority and spoke with a stern face, as if everyone owed him millions. Therefore, his words carried considerable pressure.
"Reporting, Comrade," Viktor replied calmly despite feeling pressured. "The relevant identification and investigation work is still ongoing. Moreover, the Lviv organization has just been established, and we are severely lacking in manpower and resources..."
"These are all excuses," Merkulov bluntly interrupted, saying, "If there's a shortage of manpower, you can proceed in stages..."
Seeing Viktor about to speak, he raised his hand to halt him and continued, "What is most unacceptable is why those Polish military prisoners are still concentrated in camps discussing Poland's restoration? A week ago, Moscow issued orders for Western Ukraine and Western Belarus to categorize these prisoners. Why haven't I seen any progress from Lviv in this regard?"
On this point, Viktor had no rebuttal because he had indeed hesitated in this task.
According to Moscow's orders, Polish military personnel still in POW camps needed swift categorization. Categorization involved offering them the chance to dissolve where they were and join new units under the Soviet Red Army. Of course, before becoming part of this first category, they had to pledge allegiance to the Soviet Union. After that, they would be dispersed and sent to serve in Central Asia. Conversely, those unwilling to become part of this "first category" would automatically fall into the second category. Further classification awaited them; ordinary soldiers would be relocated similarly to ethnic migrations, while officers, whether junior or senior, would all face execution.
"Very sorry, Comrade Commissioner," Viktor admitted without excuses, knowing his mistake.
"I don't need your apologies, I need to see progress in your work," Merkulov stated seriously. "I'll be staying in Lviv for a few days. I expect to see results from you."
"Yes, Comrade Commissioner," Viktor responded loudly, standing straight.
Merkulov scrutinized him for a moment, seemingly satisfied with his demeanor, then pointed towards the stairwell. "During lunchtime, I want to hear your report. Tell me what you've accomplished during this period."
.............
Coming out of the City Hall, it was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, and damn the weather—it had started drizzling again.
Descending from the grand steps, Viktor stood beside Valenka's just-arrived Jeep and glanced back at the way they had come, sighing inwardly.
Previously, he had thought Sherov was strict and serious, but today, in his first encounter with Merkulov, he realized what true severity and rigor meant.
This guy had no concept of compassion for subordinates. During lunch, he had listened to Viktor's report while eating heartily himself, leaving Viktor to barely touch his food.
As far as Viktor's impressions of these leaders went, Sherov probably had a favorable opinion of him. Khrushchev's view might not be straightforward, but at least not overly negative. However, Merkulov seemed to have the worst impression of him, possibly even highly dissatisfied.
This was the Soviet Union after all, particularly in the 1930s and 1940s, where the hierarchy was vastly different from what Viktor had experienced domestically in his previous life. Back then, displeasing a leader might mean wearing uncomfortable shoes; here, it could literally be a matter of life and death—especially in the People's Commissariat of Internal Affairs.
"Comrade Officer, get in the car first," Valenka whispered, unaware of what Viktor had been through.
Comrade Officer? Real comrades were inside; I'm just a damn comrade officer.
Viktor chuckled bitterly to himself before bending to get into the car.
Most people lacked the ability to resist the cold, hard reality. When faced with the stark reality, even the things one least wanted to do had to be done, holding one's nose all the while. That, perhaps, was the most tragic aspect of being human.
Faced with immense pressure from above, Viktor eventually issued the order to comprehensively clear state enemies in the Lviv region.