His welcome was somewhat less than cordial, growling through the doorway to #### off and leave him alone, that he'd mend the no.3 tractor fan belt tomorrow, but when I explained who I was he cautiously opened the door, looked around and swiftly dragged me inside, pulling the curtains and motioning me to speak in whispers....
He wanted to know what the hell I was doing there, how I'd done it etc. I didn't mention the gold. He looked kind of pleased and got the vodka out, and we caught up on the last five years... a rugged, handsome bloke, he's apparently got his face on a couple of propaganda posters and into a "Heroic Tractor Drivers fulfil 5 year plan in 3 years" type of film as an extra, and was otherwise driving tractors and trucks and keeping his head down. "What's a woman?" he asked when I remarked on his solitude. "There are few out here on the farm, and they're taken. I've only been to Tomsk once in these five years. The brothels aren't up to much". Soon the inevitable question came up..."Well, what's to be done with you, if they find you here they'll shoot both of us. Got any money at least? Got any plans?" He piled some broth on a plate. "Tuck in. I can't feed you for long though, and the Kommisar is VERY nosy." I considered my options and decided to tell him about the gold. "I've got some gold" I said. "Gold...." He looked mildly surprised and sat thinking for 5 minutes. I had expected him to want to see it, or to try to kill me or something...."I've got an idea. You have a lot of gold, da? I'll help you, but you've got to help me...Agreed? No more on it now, got to think things through". We went to sleep as soon as it got dark, sleeping on rough sacks on the floor among the roaches.
He woke me at first light, and we stumbled out to the barn. Inside was an old Polikarpov Po-2 crop sprayer from the early 30's: we wrestled her outside and started her up. "Why the gun?" I asked. "It's for the pests that the spray's too weak to kill" We taxiied onto a nearby field and I gunned the engines. Now this was a plane I knew how to fly, not like that Ishak. Soon we were airborne.
Apparently the plane was converted for military use during the Great Patriotic War, but it never saw front line service. They left the gun on it after the war, just fitted the spraying kit back on. Now the gun was rusted and useless. Dmitri told me to head for Novosibirsk. "Novosibirsk? But it's back the way I came! I want to go to ground, lie low."
"We have to go to Novosibirsk. It's where the records office is. Someone who can help us is on the way. We may be able to get you legit. Trust me, you've got no choice. Lying low is not an option. They will find you, and whoever is helping you will get dragged down with you"
"The records office" I asked, gnawing on a mutton bone while keeping the Po-2 steady with the other.
"I have to try and find my wife...." " Wife?" "Yes, she got sent to another camp when we got done for hoarding foreign currency. If I ever get back to Omsk I'm gonna KILL that neighbour who's sitting in our flat now. Best I don't go back there. Look, she wrote me a few times and then she stopped, back in 53, was just after Stalin died and some of us got let out. I'd written to the committee 52 if they'd let her out but they refused. Then for 2 years nothing, she just stopped writing, and when I wrote again they replied that she was dead." "Dead?!" "I can't believe it, I just feel she's still alive. I want to go to the Central Records Office in Novosibirsk to try to find out the truth..."
"Here lives a guy who can help us. He's a prospector. Take us down."
ID2 to be continued shortly
http://www.simviation.com/cgi-bin/yabb/ ... 1128120023
Very nice plane.. 
