Red winter

Chapter III

Of course, the bullet caused quite a stir, but I reassured the most frightened by inventing a story, but it was impossible to lie about the spy to the secret service and the Kaiser. But there was someone else I was interested in who knew, Ivan Tharmir, the underrated Slav.

Taking advantage of the end of the early morning meeting where the fate of the victim of two empires was discussed, I invited the diplomat to have lunch with me that same day to discuss a matter of extreme importance. He replied with a yes, loaded with his regional accent.

At noon, we meet at a restaurant in the center of Vienna, busy enough to hide from the crowd but quiet enough to take care of a capital matter.

At the restaurant we sat in a more secluded corner and while we waited for the waiter with our plates we started business.

"I think you know that the shot I took in the shoulder is directly connected to the matter we're here to discuss," I began.

"It's noticeable. Who's to blame? French?" he asked.

"No. Do you remember the first day of meetings between our countries? Remember the fear you said you had?"

"Of course, I said that the communist threat was a danger to our operations" he started and when he realized what it was all about he looked around and lowered his voice "Are we under red threat?

I nodded in affirmation and her eyes widened in despair.

"What will we do? Does the secret service already know? Who else knows?" he said quickly, accentuating his accent, his agitation was noticeable despite keeping his voice low, almost a whisper.

"Calm down, the secret service and I have already organized a plan to capture the spy. It will take place during the ball on Sunday where most of the delegations will be present. The secret service has everything under control."

We fell silent as the waiters served the food and wine, and we spoke again when they were at a suitable distance.

"I hope everything works out. But how do we know who we're looking for?" Mr. Tharmir questioned.

"By luck or stupidity of our dear I spy, he literally dropped his business card. Andries Paulos, you're the man we're looking for. Intelligence is

working to make sure he's at the ball. We'll trap the mouse when he bites the cheese.

"Hope it works."

"Me too" I replied putting a fork in my mouth.

After taking care of the most urgent matters, we changed the course of the conversation to something more relaxed until we finished lunch.

When we finished lunch we paid the bill and our paths parted after a farewell with a wave of the hat, it was the last time I saw Ivan Tharmir alive. Mr. Tharmir was run over when crossing the street near the Danube River, the driver fled and left behind the car and the corpse of the diplomat. The driver was never found.

According to the secret service, the hit-and-run was an assassination set up by the communists. It was the beginning of a hunt and the first shot was fired.

Obviously the newspapers treat the subject as an unfortunate accident. but the diplomats involved in the debates about the "coveted land" knew that there was something behind it, but they didn't dare to interrupt the meetings, everything was close to the end and the ball would be the end point for for the intervention to begin.