Operation Rod of Iron: AU fic

[Nictionary]

June 4, 1919
   
   Lenin could not believe what he was seeing.  Only yesterday he had spoken to Zinoviev on the telephone, but now, this morning, the front page of Pravda featured Zinoviev’s photo in a black frame, indicating his death.  The article beneath described how Zinoviev had died “at his post” following a brief illness, continuing to work selflessly for the revolution until the very moment of his collapse, and extolled his energetic work on behalf of the workers and peasants.
   Lenin turned to Fotieva, who had brought him the paper.  “How is it that I was not told of this?” he demanded.  “This is unheard of!”
   “I don’t know, Comrade Lenin,” his chief secretary replied.  “That is why I brought it to you, because I, too, had heard nothing until I saw it.”
   Lenin picked up the receiver on one the three telephones that lay on the right side of his desk.  This one was the Petrograd line.
   Zinoviev’s secretary answered on the fourth ring, and for once the connection was clear.
   “Why did no one tell me of Comrade Zinoviev’s passing?” demanded Lenin.
   “His passing?” asked the woman in puzzlement.
   “I only found out from Pravda!” Lenin roared.
   “But I don’t understand!” protested the secretary.  “Just this morning he came in to work!  Shall I go check on him?”
   Lenin reluctantly agreed.  About a minute later he heard a man on the other end of the line.  “Do you recognize my voice?”  It was Zinoviev, unmistakably.
   “Comrade Zinoviev!  What is all this about?” asked Lenin, relieved but still angry.
   “I have no idea, Vladimir Ilyich,” said Zinoviev, “but let me assure you that not only am I alive, I am in the prime of health.”  He proceeded to relate to Lenin an episode that had happened on the sealed train, something only the two of them knew about.
   “I shall have a few words for Nikolai Ivanovich about this!” Lenin fumed.  “Such sloppiness is not acceptable!”
   Before the hour was up, the unfortunate Bukharin had been subjected to a three-minute call which ended with the chairman of Sovnarkom slamming down the phone.
    The very next day, Lenin’s blood pressure rose again, this time over an obituary for Arkady Rosengolts which appeared in Bednota.  This time Lenin ordered Rosengolts to appear in person to confirm he was still alive.  And as with Bukharin, the editor of Bednota was subjected to an angry tirade over the phone.
   Miroshnichenko, of course, was not present to hear this.  But if he had, he would have been pleased to see how this part of his plan had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

[JamesAPrattIII]

More comments from a history and firearms guy:

In away the groups is too big 16 people it should be no more than 5 at the most or subdivided into 3 smaller groups in case someone is caught and tortured or defects they won't know too much.

Making a silencer/suppressor is not too much of a problem neither is making a bomb. The info is both online and in books but I don't advise you to make either because it is illegal.

On taking out Kabanov in a apartment the plan is too complex and involves too many people and they have him under survilence for too long. A better way to get him than a bomb in a lamp. It a old Viet Cong trick they used to put a hand grenade in a desk drawer of a South Vietnamese Government official so when he opens the drawer it pulls the pin of the grenade that goes off killing him.

After Lenin was wounded in a assassination attempt the Reds killed and jailed thousands. If they suspected the Whites were hunting down and killing their people they would be doing the same.

You have one of the men chewing gum I don't think they had chewing gum in Russia at the time.

[Nictionary]

In away the groups is too big 16 people it should be no more than 5 at the most or subdivided into 3 smaller groups in case someone is caught and tortured or defects they won't know too much.

The kidon in the Lillehammer affair had 15 people, nine of whom escaped, and the one that killed Mahmoud al-Mabhouh had 33.  Everyone in the latter operation was able to escape immediately afterwards, and if it hadn't been for the security cameras, their getaway might have been flawless.

[JamesAPrattIII]

It should be pointed out the WW I /RCW period was totally different than the 1970s and later. Mossad had almost unlimited budget for their operations and getting money to them was no problem. In the RCW spy rings in Red territory had a number of major problems that Mossad did not have to put up with at a later date. One was just trying to get enough money to them in order to operate. Another was trying to get information back to their own side. Add to this the Cheka was on the lookout for spies and if they caught one or a caught a suspected spy they were going to torture the hell out of him or her. It should also be pointed out spies behind Red lines had to worry about members of their groups defecting or turning into Cheka informants. Finally for Mossad agents to get back to friendly territory wasn't too much of a problem. For spies in Red territory if things went wrong getting back to friendly territory was difficult if not impossible.

[Nictionary]

All true, but from what I've read, you need a fair number of people when surveilling a target.  If the team was shrunk, they would have to recruit local agents to carry out surveillance, and while there would be a risk of members of the group defecting or becoming double agents, I think it would be riskier to recruit locals whom they knew nothing about.  Plus, if the team is downsized, I'm not sure how to work that into the plot without throwing it off balance.

[TimM]

James is very good at historical research. 

He helped me with a story of my own, a while back.

[JamesAPrattIII]

books:

Operation Kronstadt about a British agent who ran a spy ring in Petrograd during the Russian civil war

Russia Under the Bolshevik Regime R Pipes has some pages that deal with the "National Center" this was a White Underground organization that operated in Moscow and Petrograd during the Civil War no doubt they would have helped a group like the one you are writing about but probably would have been worried that these assassinations would disrupt there operations.

[Nictionary]

Much appreciated, James.  I'll have to read Pipes' book again and see if I can find the other book.

Sorry for the hiatus; linear algebra has kept me busy, but I intend to continue as soon as I find the time.

[Nictionary]

July 15,1919
   
   The Soviets weren’t flying the white flag.  In the aftermath of the attack ob Kabanov the Red Terror exploded in a vicious new spasm, which saw scores of suspects rounded up, tortured and executed on the slightest hint of White sympathies.  Yet the people responsible for the attacks on their agents seemed to slip the Cheka’s grasp.  Now, the Cheka’s failure to catch them was about to be illustrated once again in dramatic fashion, as Admiral Kolchak’s hit squad moved to Tambov.  Their target this time was Aleksandr Lisitsyn, who had witnessed the murder of the Imperial family and was responsible for transporting their diaries and letters to Moscow afterwards.
   While in Moscow, Yuryev had made contact with the National Center, a clandestine organization with branches inside and outside Soviet Russia, which supplied the Whites with intelligence.  Yuryev had asked them for information on several of the regicides known to have ties to Moscow, including Lisitsyn.  The Center had reported that Lisitsyn was now working as an inspector for Cheka’s presidium, reporting on the status of the various regional Chekas. 
   For more than four weeks after the hit on Kabanov, there was no news on any of the other targets.  Lazar had used the time to work on a pet project—setting up an antique furniture dealership in Lipetsk.  Lazar loved antiques and understood a great deal about them. He also had a very good head for business, unlike Yuryev or Artemiy.  He actually enjoyed buying and selling.
   Zakhar — Cautious Zakhar — fully approved of the idea. An antique business could give the entire team, with their constant travelling and irregular hours, at least some rudimentary cover, as well as a way of shipping larger objects, should the need arise. Yuryev appreciated the idea.
   On Sunday, July 6, Yuryev had received a phone call from one of his contacts in the National Center.  Lisitsyn would be arriving in Tambov in about a week on a tour of inspection.  It was impossible to know how long he was planning to stay.
   By Thursday, the team had met up in Tambov.  Lazar, Artemiy and Nikita booked themselves into the Gubernskaya Hotel under a variety of false names.  Lisitsyn had stayed in the hotel, which was popular with his comrades, several times previously.  It was Nikita’s idea that some of them should stay at the hotel where they expected the target to be. For one thing, it would help them identify him positively. For another, it would enable them to study the layout of the building. Finally, though they would check out as soon as Lisitsyn arrived, their presence later in the hotel would arouse no suspicion among the hotel’s service or security staff. They would be recognized as guests the staff had seen before.  The rest of the team went to safe houses in the city.
   On Friday at lunchtime, Bylinkin and his staff officers arrived in Tambov to supervise the team.   They were accompanied by Afanasy, another one of Innokenty Korotayev’s Raduga operatives, who brought a package with him.
   Later the same day, Lisitsyn checked into the Gubernskaya Hotel.  He had been in Tambov only a few hours when the O squad quietly began watching his movements. He had a gun, of course, but no bodyguard, and didn’t seem to fear bodily harm.  They trailed him for close to three days without seeing any security detail, or any attentiveness on his part. Apparently he didn’t think he was important enough to warrant the attention of the Intelligence Department.  He followed few regular patterns, but his day always started and finished in his room at the hotel.
   Lazar and Nikita reported that the target was apparently occupying a room next door to a newly-wed couple.
   “I take it there is no way they could get hurt?” Yuryev asked Afanasy.
   “No way,” Afanasy said firmly. Then, less firmly, he added: “Of course, I’m not giving you a written guarantee. If it’s a written guarantee you need, call it off.”
   “Or warn them, maybe?” asked Artemiy, then shook his head to give his own reply. In an operation of this kind no one could be warned. The team would either assume the risk or not. Which was up to Yuryev.
   “We’ll take a chance,” Yuryev said.
   That settled it.
   Afanasy’s infernal machine was essentially a pressure bomb, consisting of six small explosive packages connected to a double frame. The two frames were held apart by four powerful springs with a metal screw running down the middle of each. Placed under a car seat or a mattress the springs would prevent the screws in the top frame from touching four contact points in the bottom. However, the weight of a human being would depress the springs sufficiently for contact to be made. In a simple pressure bomb, the explosives would be detonated at this stage.
   

[Nictionary]

However, in Afanasy’s device the weight would serve only to arm the bomb. Once armed, it could be exploded by a human agent using command-wire detonation.
   Sunday had found the team members gathered in one of the safe houses.  The curtains were drawn as Afanasy worked at a table under a bright light wiring the six bombs together.  He had a checklist and a hand-drawn diagram near him on the floor, which he consulted as he wired.  Natalia, Mikhail, Artemiy, Nikita and Yuryev were watching.
   "He comes home every evening,” said Afanasy.  “He turns on the light, he undresses, he turns off the light, he gets into bed.  We blow up the bed.  If he gets into bed, his weight arms the device.  When you see his lights go out, you wait a bit, press the button and…”
   On Tuesday, July 15, 1919, Mikhail checked into the room next door to Lisitsyn’s.  He carried a valise up to his room which contained electrical wire, a small Bakelite box, and an electric drill.  He was soon joined by Afanasy, Yuryev, and Natalia.
   Lisitsyn had left his hotel room around 8.  He was picked up in a car by the head of the regional Cheka.  The car was being followed by several different vehicles from the O squad who had instructions to call Zakhar immediately if the Cheka seemed ready to bring Lisitsyn back to the hotel. In fact, he stayed all day at Cheka HQ.
   Shortly after noon, when the cleaning staff had finished their work, Mikhail, Natalia, Yuryev and Afanasy let themselves into Lisitsyn’s hotel room.  Mikhail held up the mattress of the bed, sweating under its sagging weight, while Afanasy, on his knees, carefully placed the bombs, in their frame, on the metal spring netting under the mattress, and wired the detonators to a wire that dangled out over the bed frame with a lightbulb on the end of it.  Natalia guarded the door, gun drawn.  When he was finished, Afanasy helped Mikhail lower the mattress very slowly onto the bomb.  Afanasy checked the lightbulb.  It was dark.  He smiled, nodding.  He motioned to Mikhail and they raised the mattress again.  Afanasy made adjustments on the bomb.
   “Did you see the papers this morning?” Natalia said softly.  “News from Astrakhan.  Kabanov succumbed to his wounds.  He’s dead.”
   Afanasy and Mikhail lowered the mattress.  “Now someone has to test it,” said Afanasy.
   “Test it?" asked Yuryev.
   “Lie on the bed,” said Afanasy.  “If the bomb’s placed correctly the bulb will light.  So who wants to test it?”
   “Why don’t you test it?” asked Mikhail.
   “It won't blow up,” reassured Afanasy.  He waited for someone to volunteer, but no one did.
   “Prove that you trust me,” he said. “One of you, get in the bed.”
   “Mikhail, you do it,” instructed Natalia.
   Mikhail looked at Afanasy and flung himself in the air and onto the mattress.  The bulb lighted.
   “Now we just have to connect the command-wire and we’re done,” said Afanasy.  “Pass me the drill, Mikhail Nikolaevich.”  Lying on his belly, Afanasy crawled underneath the bed and drilled a hole through the wall separating Lisitsyn’s room from Mikhail’s.  He and Mikhail returned to their room, and after clearing away the furniture, were able to locate the other end of the hole.  Afanasy started feeding the electric wire through it, before handing over to Mikhail.     “Start feeding it through when I bang the wall three times,” he instructed Mikhail as he left to return next door.  “And stop feeding it through when I bang five times.”
   

[Nictionary]

After Afanasy had hooked up the wire to the bomb and blown away the sawdust, he, Natalia and Yuryev disconnected the main light switch of the room, leaving only the bedside lamp functional. When that light went off at night, Lisitsyn would almost certainly be in his bed.
   They left the room, leaving no evidence it had been disturbed.  Afanasy went back to Mikhail’s room, where he unwound the other end of the wire into the bathroom, before connecting it to the Bakelite box, which contained a firing pack made up of batteries wired together and a button.  Now there was nothing left to do but wait for Lisitsyn to go to bed.
   The Cheka drove Lisitsyn back to the hotel shortly after 2200 hours and walked him to the main entrance.  Lazar went up in the elevator with him to make sure no one else entered Lisitsyn’s room.  No one did.  Lazar knocked seven times on Mikhail’s door to let him know that the mark had entered his room. Mikhail went out onto the balcony to watch for Lisitsyn to turn his light out. 
   Wearing a bathrobe, the young bride in the room one over from Mikhail’s came out on her balcony for a smoke.  She saw Mikhail and smiled at him.  Her husband came out, clad only in pajama bottoms.  He nodded to Mikhail, then put his arms around his bride.  Mikhail wanted to look, but was embarrassed and looked away.
   Next door, he could hear Lisitsyn making a brief phone call.  The bridegroom was whispering something to the bride.  Mikhail stared at them, feeling titillated and lonely.
   Presently, Lisitsyn stepped out onto his balcony, startling Mikhail.  The Chekist nodded at the bridegroom and bride.  They smiled at him and then the bridegroom led the bride back into their room.  Laughter came from inside, followed by music.  Their lights went out.
   Moans and groans started to drift out.  Mikhail and Lisitsyn stared, both men fascinated, at the dark open doorway of the newlyweds’ room.
   Lisitsyn turned to smile at Mikhail.  “Good evening,” he said.
   “Oh, uh, good evening,” returned Mikhail.
   “Beautiful night.  Where are you from?”
   “Ryazan.”
   The sounds of love-making increased in volume.
   “Were you here last night?” asked Lisitsyn.
   “No, I just checked in, just arrived,” Mikhail answered.
   “Don’t plan to sleep,” said Lisitsyn.  "They keep at it till dawn.”  He took a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.  Taking out a cigarette, he offered one to Mikhail, who shook his head “no."
   “Where were you born?” Mikhail asked politely.
   “Vyazma,” said Lisitsyn, putting the cigarette in his mouth and patting his pockets looking for a match.  Mikhail took one out and held it out towards Lisitsyn, who leaned over his side of the balcony.  Mikhail lit the match and, using his hand to shield the flame from the wind, lit Lisitsyn’s cigarette.  Lisitsyn nodded thanks, took a long drag and exhaled.
   The sounds from the newlyweds’ suite became downright raucous.  “There! For hours!” exclaimed Lisitsyn.  “Take some Veronal if you have any.  You want to borrow some of mine?”
   “I can sleep through anything,” assured Mikhail.
   “Pleasant dreams,” said Lisitsyn as he went in his room.  Then the lights went off in his window.
   Mikhail moved closer to the balcony railing where it abutted the hotel wall.  He hauled himself up, then leaned in.  Minutes passed as Lisitsyn undressed and prepared for sleep.  Mikhail could hear Lisitsyn moving about, singing softly to himself.  He heard a tap running, the sound of Lisitsyn relieving himself, a toilet flush.  Then the sound of a man groping for his bed in the dark, and lowering himself into bed with a sigh.
   Mikhail leaned further in.  He could just see the foot of the bed and Lisitsyn’s legs sliding under the bedclothes.  He lowered himself back to his own balcony, went in his room and took care not to trip over the command-wire as he made his way into the bathroom where Afanasy was waiting, firing pack in hand.  “Ready?” asked Afanasy.
   “Ready,” said Mikhail.
   Afanasy pressed the button.
   The ensuing explosion was tremendous.  It ripped Lisitsyn’s body and bed apart, wrecked his room, blew the door off its hinges and sent a tongue of flame along with a shower of glass and masonry into the parking lot; the wall Mikhail’s room shared with Lisitsyn’s was pushed in and fell over, intact.  The two men soon saw that they were trapped in a space between the bathroom and the wall, which was now leaning against the opposing wall, pictures on it dangling from their hooks.  They struggled to get out.
   The hall was thick with smoke as Afanasy and Mikhail emerged from the room, coughing and covered in plaster dust.
   To the left of Lisitsyn’s doorless room, the newlyweds forced their door and stumbled out, naked and covered in dust.  He was bleeding from a nasty cut on his forehead, she was momentarily blinded by plaster dust and smoke.  “Oh my G-d!  Oh my G-d!” the groom exclaimed as he turned to Mikhail and Afanasy.
   "Are you all right?” asked Mikhail?
   “What … what happened?” asked the groom.
   “I can’t see!” said the bride.  The groom wiped at her eyes with his thumbs.  Mikhail came into their room and came out with sheets.  They wrapped themselves.
   “Get downstairs, the stairs, here," urged Mikhail as he pushed them toward the stairs.  The door to the stairwell opened and Feliks, carrying a fire extinguisher, rushed past Mikhail, their eyes meeting.  He had run up from the parking lot where he and Angelika had been waiting in a tarantass.  Mikhail led the newlyweds to the stairs as Feliks ran into Lisitsyn’s room.
   The room was utterly destroyed.  Feliks blasted the fire extinguisher at small flames.  An arm was dangling from the crystal chandelier, which was now a burnt and twisted mass of metal, hanging by wires.  Feliks wiped the extinguisher clean with his handkerchief, then dropped it on the floor and went back into the hall to rejoin Mikhail and Afanasy.  “Let's get out of here,” he said.
   As they drove away in the tarantass, lights were coming on in every window of the hotel and in buildings along the street.  Bylinkin, who had been supervising the mission from a nearby hotel room, left the city along with his staff officers and the assassination team; they departed one by one using different routes.  Feliks was the last to leave.  They were all gone within hours.

[JamesAPrattIII]

I have a lot to say on this:

Admiral Kolchak ordered there were to be no Pogroms against Jews. There were few Jews in Siberia. What the SRs in excile really denounced him for was he intended to bring back them Monarchy. Kolchak didn't even though more than a few White officers wanted to.

Your agents trade craft is really poor:

rule one you didn't in WW I or II talk on the telephone if you were an agent someone could be listening. I also don't think there were too many telephones working outside government building

also agents like these avoid staying in hotels or boarding houses too risky

no electric drills back then either

As for opening an antique furniture store in Bolshevik held Russia at this time many people where either short of food or starving. Even the formerly upper classes were hard up read the books "Former People" and "Memoirs of a Survivor". Everyone was selling anything they had for food.

If you are going to kill someone in a Hotel you don't get a room there. It investigators will certainly check the hotel register first thing. You also don't build bombs with all your friends around. It's too Hazardess. The bomb is too complex even for WW II. In real life it would have been smarter to plant the bomb in the bed. Then get out of town before the target comes home and sits on the bed and it goes off. Also no ball of fire would come out the window except in a Hollywood explosion. In real life when a bomb like this would have gone off it would of shattered the windows ect. It also looks like the men who set off the bomb were too close too such a large blast.

You mentioned a Tarantass a Siberian cart I believe. I think they would have used another type of horse drawn vehicle.

I would like to point out at this time 1918-19 Spies would be using spy techniques from earlier eras as in the books "Washington's Spies" and George Washingtons Secret Six" as in the TV show Turn Washington's Spies. They wrote coded messages in invisible ink and communicated by couriers.

Note the Cheka in 1918-19 did seek and get help from a number of members of the former tsarist police. Many of them were also experienced revolutionaries/terrorists/criminals. They know how to go after spies ect.

[Nictionary]

August 5, 1919

   K.G. Maksimov, deputy commissar of trade, was not afraid of letter bombs.  No, it had been months since the last incident and the People’s Commissariat of Posts and Telegraph had put new security measures in place.  But searching for explosives would not have prevented Maksimov from receiving the unpleasant surprise that had arrived with today’s mail.
   “Dear Comrade Maksimov,” the unsigned letter began.  “With deep regret I enclose the few lines, but an indispensable duty compels me to do so.  Yes, I know about your secret.”  The letter went on to recount in great detail a sexual encounter that Maksimov had had with a married woman, and advised him to leave town in order to prevent this information from being used against him.
   
   The same day, N.G. Smidovich received an anonymous letter which sent a chill up his spine when he read it.  “Comrade Smidovich,” it began. “You do not know me, but I know you very well.  Nobody can overcome facts, so read what I say carefully.”  After giving a comprehensive description of Smidovich's hiring of prostitutes, the letter threatened to leak the information unless Smidovich resigned from Party activities.  "The decision is entirely yours.”

[Nictionary]

I have a lot to say on this:

also agents like these avoid staying in hotels or boarding houses too risky

no electric drills back then either

As for opening an antique furniture store in Bolshevik held Russia at this time many people where either short of food or starving. Even the formerly upper classes were hard up read the books "Former People" and "Memoirs of a Survivor". Everyone was selling anything they had for food.

If you are going to kill someone in a Hotel you don't get a room there. It investigators will certainly check the hotel register first thing. You also don't build bombs with all your friends around. It's too Hazardess. The bomb is too complex even for WW II. In real life it would have been smarter to plant the bomb in the bed. Then get out of town before the target comes home and sits on the bed and it goes off. Also no ball of fire would come out the window except in a Hollywood explosion. In real life when a bomb like this would have gone off it would of shattered the windows ect. It also looks like the men who set off the bomb were too close too such a large blast.

The first portable handheld drill was created in 1895.

The agents who killed Mahmoud al-Mabhouh checked into the hotel room opposite his.

[JamesAPrattIII]

On the Mahmoud hit Mossad could do this because they were going to flee the country right afterwards. They are critsized for using bad tradecraft. I also don't think they realized that the hotel and other areas had such a hi tech security system. This is also a major hit that doesn't happen very often. The White Russian agents are still going to operating behind Red lines after this and other hits. The Cheka will have both a description of some of the agents and their names from the hotel register and a handwriting sample ect.

I didn't realize hand held power drills were around back then. I think they would have been rare in Russia in 1919. Also electricity to run them may not have been available except in big cities like Moscow and even then many places that had it before the revolution would not have had it or had it on a regular basis during the civil war period.

You might also want to read the book "Young Stalin"  where Stalin comes across more like a Mafia boss than a revolutionary