Viktor’s jeep was parked beside the checkpoint at the entrance to the salt mine.
A Captain in military uniform quickly walked over, opened the car door for him, saluted, and said, “Lieutenant Colonel Viktor Viktorovich, as requested, we have preserved the scene.
Everything, including the positions of the bodies and the condition of the truck, has been left untouched.”
Viktor stepped out of the jeep, glanced at the Captain, returned the salute, and asked, “What was the exact time of the attack?”
“Ten o’clock in the evening.
To be precise, ten minutes past ten,” the Captain replied promptly.
There was a trace of uneasiness in his eyes.
Facing Viktor, he clearly felt nervous.
Yes, although this Captain outranked Viktor in military rank, their positions were entirely different.
Viktor, as a state security Lieutenant Colonel, effectively held greater authority than a regular army Captain.
Moreover, the Great Purge that had shaken the entire Soviet Union had only recently ended.
Anyone confronted with the men in blue caps would instinctively feel apprehensive, and this Captain was no exception.
After receiving the answer, Viktor asked nothing further.
Instead, he slowly looked around, making a careful assessment of the scene.
This had clearly been a failed attack carried out by anti-Soviet elements.
Their target was obviously a specific mine shaft within the Drohobych Salt Mine.
Yes, it could only have been one shaft.
Given the strength of the attackers, this operation had been little more than a suicide mission.
Destroying even a single mine shaft would have been fortunate; destroying the entire salt mine was simply impossible.
Still, nothing could be ruled out completely.
There was another possibility that might have changed the outcome: the attackers could have had help from someone inside.
That raised another question.
If they truly had inside assistance, why rely on an armed assault from outside instead of having their infiltrator carry out the sabotage directly?
Were they short of manpower?
Or lacking explosives?
The answer would depend on the evidence at the scene.
The defenses inside the salt mine were formidable.
A powerful searchlight at the entrance illuminated a vast stretch of open ground to the east of the mine.
Centered around that searchlight, the defenders had established three machine-gun positions.
Forget a single truck with a handful of attackers—even a reinforced platoon would have struggled to break through.
At this moment, the entrance to the facility was heavily guarded.
Temporary sandbag firing positions had been erected near the barrier, and a tank stood inside the compound, making the entire entrance appear heavily fortified.
Viktor walked around the truck and found that it had come to a stop directly against the checkpoint barrier.
The front of the vehicle had bent the barrier but had failed to break through it.
This indicated that the truck had lacked sufficient momentum.
In other words, it had started accelerating only a short distance before reaching the barrier, leaving it without enough speed to smash through the thick wooden obstacle.
After questioning the Captain, Viktor learned that the attackers had indeed stopped for inspection.
This indicated that they had not originally intended to force their way through the checkpoint but had planned to slip in under the guise of a routine inspection.
Five bodies lay scattered around the truck.
Two belonged to the guards, while the other three were plainclothes attackers.
Judging by where the latter three had fallen, they had tried to use the truck as cover to return fire against the guards inside the compound after their cover was blown.
However, they were armed with only two pistols and a single rifle.
Lacking any heavy weapons, they were eventually cut down by the guards defending the checkpoint.
The Drohobych Salt Mine was a major industrial enterprise.
In China, it would be comparable to a large state-owned enterprise.
An attack of this nature was beyond the jurisdiction of the Lviv Workers’ and Peasants’ Militia Main Directorate.
The only department with the authority to handle the case was the State Security Directorate.
However, under the organizational structure of the Soviet Peoples Commissariat for Internal Affairs at the time, the State Security Main Directorate lacked specialized criminal investigators in certain areas of criminal investigation.
As a result, it often had to cooperate with the Criminal Investigation Bureau when handling cases like this.
Yes, in the Soviet Union of this era, the Criminal Investigation Bureau and the Civil Police Bureau were separate departments.
This was different from the system in China, where the Public Security Bureau included its own Criminal Investigation Division.
Although the attack on the Drohobych Salt Mine caused little actual damage, its political impact was considerable.
Less than an hour after the incident, Viktor received a telephone call from Kiev.
Lieutenant Colonel Serov personally ordered him to take charge of the investigation.
According to Lieutenant Colonel Serov, the attack proved that beneath the seemingly calm surface of the Lviv region, one or perhaps several well-organized anti-Soviet underground groups were operating.
Unless these organizations were eliminated, they would remain a constant threat to the security and stability of the Soviet state.
Standing in front of the truck, Viktor lit a cigarette.
Recently, he had been smoking more and more.
The relentless workload and mounting pressure had left his nerves constantly on edge.
The six investigators he had brought from the Criminal Investigation Bureau immediately began examining the scene.
When they finally forced open the truck’s bullet-riddled cab door, a blood-soaked body tumbled out, hitting the ground like a sack of rotten meat.
Two investigators stepped forward.
Using tweezers, they carefully removed a document that was almost completely soaked in blood from the dead man’s tightly clenched hand.
After examining it together for a moment, one of them carried it over to Viktor and quietly whispered a few words in his ear.
“Captain,” Viktor called, motioning for the officer to come over as he handed him the document.
“Tell me whether this document is genuine or forged, and whether the identity of its holder is authentic.”
The Captain did not dare waste any time and immediately ordered someone to verify the documents.
The salt mine’s identification papers were specially manufactured.
Each document belonged to a single individual, and each serial number corresponded to only one document.
In addition, hidden security markings were embedded on the cover and the last page, making them difficult to counterfeit.
It wasn’t long before the man sent to verify them hurried back.
The inspection confirmed that the document was genuine, and the name matched the official records.
However, the photograph attached to it had been replaced.
While the verification was underway, the criminal investigators recovered several more identical documents from the other bodies.
In total, there were six identification papers—one for each attacker.
The Captain had the remaining documents checked as well, and the results were the same.
Every document was genuine, and in every case, only the photograph had been altered.
At the same time, the personnel responsible for the verification brought back another piece of information.
The earliest had been reported missing four months ago, while the most recent had disappeared only a week earlier.
When he heard that the earliest report dated back four months, the Captain, who had been visibly tense, finally let out a sigh of relief.
At the very least, it meant that the attackers’ operation had been in preparation for a long time.
And that “long time” referred to a period when the salt mine was still under Polish control.
Viktor noticed this point as well.
Since the attackers had begun preparing four months earlier, they were clearly not just anti-Soviet activists—they had also opposed the Polish authorities.
That made identifying their political affiliation much easier.
Without question, this group belonged to a Ukrainian nationalist organization.
Their goal was an independent Ukraine, and they opposed whoever happened to rule it, whether the Poles or the Russians.
“Comrade Captain,” Viktor said, dropping his cigarette butt to the ground while gesturing for the investigators to collect the documents, “your immediate task is to detain everyone connected to these identification papers.
Later, I have some questions I’d like to ask them.”
“Yes, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel.
I’ll arrange it immediately,” the Captain replied respectfully.
At this point, all he wanted was to make sure the case had nothing to do with him.
If possible, he would have preferred to become invisible so that no one would even remember he existed.
After returning the Captain’s salute, Viktor turned and walked back to his jeep.
These days, he was overwhelmed with work and had little time to devote to any single case.
In fact, he was becoming increasingly dissatisfied with the organizational structure of the Peoples Commissariat for Internal Affairs.
Too many departments had overlapping authority and poorly defined responsibilities.
If manpower had been sufficient, this would merely have resulted in bureaucratic redundancy.
The real problem was that he simply didn’t have enough personnel.
Many departments existed only on paper, forcing him to handle countless matters personally.
Just like tonight.
At this late hour, he still had to rush all the way to the Drohobych Salt Mine just to inspect the crime scene in person and demonstrate that the case was receiving proper attention.
Yet at eight o’clock the following morning, he also had to attend an important meeting at City Hall.
It was already four o’clock now.
By the time he returned to Lviv, it would be at least half past four, leaving him with less than three hours to sleep.
October had arrived in Lviv, and the weather was turning colder by the day.
Autumn was rapidly giving way to winter.
As the jeep drove back toward the city, the cold night wind whistled through the gaps in the windows.
Leaning back in his seat, Viktor closed his eyes to rest, but his thoughts remained fixed on the attack at the salt mine.
Although he had little experience investigating criminal cases, he already had a direction in mind.
In his opinion, the first priority was to determine exactly how those identification papers had been lost.
Six men.
Six genuine documents.
Their disappearance could not have left absolutely no trace.
If he could uncover even a single overlooked detail, it might become the breakthrough the investigation needed.