Viktor’s past was rather unusual.
Or more accurately, he had simply lived in many different places.
His hometown, Krasnoyarsk Krai, was itself a place of exile and a destination for ethnic resettlement, with a highly diverse population.
Later, he spent some time living in Tyumen, which at the time also had a large and ethnically mixed population.
It was in Tyumen that Viktor had first seen women wearing banknotes wrapped around their fingers.
At the time, he had been curious enough to ask about it.
The result was that he got beaten up and had some of his money stolen.
From then on, he understood exactly what those women did.
Yes, they were prostitutes, and they worked under the protection of Polish mafia organizations.
The banknotes wrapped around their fingers were actually price tags.
A green banknote meant three rubles, while a blue one meant five.
Why was he certain they belonged to the Polish mafia?
The reason was simple.
Different ethnic criminal organizations had their own ways of displaying prices.
Prostitutes controlled by the Ukrainian mafia wrote their prices on the soles of their shoes.
They would often sit on chairs by the roadside soliciting customers, and whenever someone asked about the price, they would simply stretch out a leg to display the amount written on the bottom of the shoe.
Combating organized crime was one of the principal responsibilities of the People’s Commissariat for Internal Affairs, and in the newly incorporated territories, eliminating the social decay inherited from the capitalist system was one of its primary objectives.
For that reason, Viktor paid close attention to this kind of crime carried out openly in broad daylight.
The jeep quickly passed the tram stop.
Viktor withdrew his gaze from the window, his eyebrows twitching slightly as he fell into thought.
Whether from the memories of his predecessor or from the experiences of his previous life, Viktor understood one thing very clearly:
One should never underestimate organized crime syndicates like the mafia.
These people were ruthless criminals who would do anything for money.
As a result, they possessed extensive connections throughout the underworld, maintaining ties with every kind of unsavory character imaginable.
That naturally raised an interesting question.
Were the anti-Soviet partisans and saboteurs hiding in the forests—and those concealed among the civilian population—also connected to these organizations?
It was certainly a question worth investigating.
The jeep finally came to a stop in front of the Nikolaev City Hall building.
By this time, the entire area outside the building was surrounded by security troops wearing blue caps, making it a heavily guarded location.
Viktor got out of the jeep and walked up the white marble steps leading to the building.
Before he even reached the entrance, he saw a young man in a gray suit hurrying toward him, waving as he approached.
Viktor recognized him immediately.
The young man was Major General Serov’s secretary, Danil Dmitrievich Kugayev.
“You’ve arrived just in time, Lieutenant Viktor,” the usually composed young man said quickly before Viktor had a chance to speak.
Viktor blinked.
He immediately caught the piece of information Danil had let slip unintentionally.
Lieutenant Colonel?
Which lieutenant colonel?
Without a doubt, Danil was referring to Serov.
That meant Serov had already been promoted to State Security Lieutenant Colonel, although the promotion had clearly not yet been made public.
“When did Major General Serov arrive in Nikolaev?” Viktor asked, pretending not to have noticed the slip of the tongue.
Clearing his throat, he continued naturally.
He genuinely hadn’t known Serov was coming.
“The original schedule changed,” Danil explained.
“At first, Kyiv had only arranged for Comrade Commissar Demyan Sergeyevich to conduct the inspection.
But just before departure, Comrade First Secretary Nikita Sergeyevich Khrushchev suddenly decided he wanted to come as well, so the Major came with them.”
Khrushchev?
Although Viktor knew little about Soviet history in his previous life, he certainly knew that name.
“Has anything else changed?” Viktor asked, frowning without dwelling further on Khrushchev.
At present, Khrushchev was the First Secretary of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Ukraine, effectively the most powerful man in the entire Ukrainian SSR—a true local ruler.
It was impossible for someone of his stature to leave Kyiv and travel to the newly acquired territories of Western Ukraine without a purpose.
“Comrade Nikita Sergeyevich’s way of doing things has always been difficult to predict,” Danil said quietly as he led Viktor into the building.
“Only three days ago, he had just returned to Kyiv from Brest, so no one knew why he suddenly decided to come to Nikolaev.
However, during his conversation with Comrade Podkopaev earlier today, he brought up the issue of holding a referendum in Western Ukraine.”
“A referendum?” Viktor asked, visibly surprised
Regarding the newly occupied territories of West Ukraine, although the Soviet Union had completely taken control of the region, its official position to the outside world—or, more precisely, to the international community—was that it had only temporarily occupied the area “to protect the interests of all Ukrainians and Belarusians in West Ukraine and West Belarus.” As for the region’s future, it would supposedly be determined by the results of a local referendum.
According to the original announcement, that referendum was scheduled to be held in June of the following year.
To be honest, it was precisely because of this statement that the Soviet Army had advanced through West Belarus and West Ukraine so smoothly, and that tens of thousands of Polish soldiers had surrendered to the Red Army without resistance.
It was also because of this statement that many Polish politicians and military leaders still dreamed of rebuilding the Polish Republic with at least half of its former territory.
Little did they know that many of them were already on the Peoples Commissariat for Internal Affairs execution list.
“Comrade Secretary Nikita Sergeyevich is very dissatisfied with Comrade Podkopaev,” Danil continued.
“He believes Podkopaev has failed to give the referendum the importance it deserves and has not treated it as a top priority.
In his view, that amounts to betraying the interests of the Soviet Republic.”
Podkopaev referred to Yevgraf Igorevich Podkopaev, who was currently overseeing Party affairs in the Lviv region and effectively serving as the acting First Secretary of the Regional Committee.
Khrushchev’s accusation of “betraying the interests of the Soviet Republic” was no small matter.
If it ever became an official charge, the consequences would be extremely serious.
“So Comrade Secretary Nikita Sergeyevich came here because of the referendum?” Viktor asked.
“But isn’t the referendum scheduled for June next year?” Find the original chapter at g.com.
As they talked, they climbed the stairs to the first floor, and by the time Viktor asked the question, they had reached the landing leading to the second floor.
At that very moment, several people turned into the corridor.
The man walking at the front was short and dressed in a plain Lenin suit.
The most striking feature of his slightly plump face was his large nose.
Perhaps because he hadn’t slept well, his eyes looked noticeably puffy, and beads of sweat covered his forehead.
His thinning hair had receded badly at the crown, so he had deliberately grown the hair on the left side longer and combed it over the top of his head in an attempt to cover the bald spot.
In later generations, this hairstyle would be known as a combover.
Behind him, Viktor spotted Serov in uniform.
There was no need to ask who the man in front was—it had to be Khrushchev.
To be honest, he looked completely different from the Khrushchev Viktor remembered from his previous life.
Had it not been for the circumstances, Viktor would never have recognized him.
Khrushchev had clearly overheard the question Viktor had just asked.
His gaze immediately settled on him, and his expression darkened slightly.
Serov, however, seemed to have a good relationship with Khrushchev.
He stepped forward and quietly whispered something into the latter’s ear.
A curious look crossed Khrushchev’s face.
He looked Viktor up and down before asking, “Are you Viktor Viktorovich Tarasev?
From Turukhansk Krai?”
Viktor paused for a moment, wondering if this was some kind of test.
Then he answered, “Yes, Comrade Secretary.
However, Turukhansk Krai was abolished five years ago and incorporated into what is now Krasnoyarsk Krai.”
Khrushchev looked as though he wanted to ask something else, but ultimately held back.
Instead, he changed the subject.
“I heard the question you asked just now,” he said.
“So, do you also believe that holding the referendum early would lead to an unfavorable result?”
Viktor glanced at Serov, but the latter deliberately avoided his eyes, clearly signaling that he should simply speak his mind.
“Answer my question, young man,” Khrushchev urged.
“Comrade Secretary,” Viktor said after a brief moment of thought, carefully weighing his words, “I don’t believe the timing of the referendum is what matters most.
What matters is that the incorporation of West Ukraine concerns the fundamental interests of the Soviet Union.
At the same time, joining the Soviet Union is also the most beneficial outcome for the future of West Ukraine.
Given that premise, everyone living in West Ukraine—as long as they are honest and think rationally—should vote in favor of incorporation.”
“Is that so?” A faint smile appeared on Khrushchev’s otherwise stern face.
Glancing meaningfully at the people standing behind him, he said, “But some of our comrades believe that if we rush into a referendum now, the result may not turn out as expected.”
“I believe that, as long as sufficient preparations are made, there should be no unexpected outcome,” Viktor replied.