A thank you story for butimstillfondofyou on tumblr

As always, with grateful thanks to Jay.

In 1939 Viktor Kuryakin, husband of Yagoda, father to Illya, is caught up in one of Stalin's purges. He is falsely accused of embezzling party funds and sent to the labour camps. An unlikely source provides a link, and a future, to his son.

September 1939 - Moscow

"Ivan! What brings you to my door this late in the evening?" Viktor Kuryakin asked jovially his voice full of curiosity. He was about to beckon his friend and colleague in when he noticed another man stood at the bottom of the steps and two cars parked directly outside the house.

"Viktor, this is Oleg Kuznetsov," Ivan introduced, his voice laced with regret. "Major Kuznetsov of the NKVD." The other man joined Ivan on the top step and gave a nod in greeting. He was a plain, non-descript man, nothing about him stood out. He was about six feet in height, four inches shorter than Viktor and wore a dark grey overcoat. He suited his profession perfectly.

"Please gentleman, come in," Viktor invited as he opened the door wider. He clamped down on the despair that threatened to overwhelm him as he closed the door behind them. When he turned to face the two men his expression was a mask of pleasant curiosity. "Won't you come through?" He led them from the hall and into the living room. His wife looked up from where she was sat on the sofa next to their son as he entered and then stood up as the other men step inside.

"Ivan, what a pleasant surprise," she smiled. She looked at Viktor, her eyes filled with worry.

"Yagoda may I introduce Major Oleg Kuznetsov," Viktor left out that the man was from the secret police. "Major, my wife, Yagoda and my son, Illya." His young son left the sofa and joined his mother by her side. Yagoda's hand immediately went to his shoulder and pulled him closer to her.

"A fine family," Kuznetsov returned pleasantly.

"Yagoda, some tea for our guests, perhaps?"

"Of course. Illya, I will need your help with the tray."

"Yes, mother," Illya replied dutifully, following her from the room, his gaze full of inquisitiveness as he looked from Ivan and Kuznetsov.

The men stood silent until Yagoda and Illya had left the room and the door closed behind them. Viktor turned to look at Ivan.

"Why are you here?" He asked sharply.

"You are to be charged with embezzlement of party funds," it was Kuznetsov that answered.

"That's preposterous!" Viktor snapped back. "I am no thief."

"There is a wealth of evidence against you, Comrade Kuryakin," Kuznetsov replied calmly.

"Evidence? What evidence? Ivan, do you support this madness?" Viktor implored desperately.

"Viktor, my friend," Ivan said, his voice full of sorrow. He moved to clasp his hand around Viktor's arm. "Stalin himself has accused you. A charge of embezzlement is far better than the alternative."

Ivan was right, of course. For the last decade Stalin had been purging the country of those who spoke out against him. His paranoia had grown to such an extent that even disagreeing with him could mean a death sentence. Viktor had foolishly thought himself immune to such madness, having long been a favourite of Stalin's since the man had come to power.

"The sentence?" Viktor asked hoarsely, as the full horror of his fate started to become clear.

"Fifteen years in one of the labour camps," Kuznetsov said. Viktor looked at him in horror.

"Fifteen years! But what of my family?"

"They are to be turned out, Viktor," Ivan's hand tightened on his arm. "I promise you, I will look out for them, as best as I can."

"They will starve!" Viktor roared out in horror. "Illya is only eight. Is he to be subjected to the hardship of the factories? To have no other options but to live a short brutal life." He grasped Ivan's shoulder. "He is a bright boy. He excels at mathematics. He has surpassed his classmates already. You cannot condemn him to such a life." He pleaded.

"Viktor, there is no choice. If you resist arrest you will be executed. Yagoda and Illya must survive as best they can until you can re-join them. Yagoda is an educated woman; she will be able to tutor Illya. As I have already promised you, my friend, I will do all that I am able for them." Viktor released his hold and turned his back to the men.

"Comrade Kuryakin, when your son turns fourteen I may be able to smooth his entry into the academy," Kuznetsov said quietly.

Viktor turned to look at him. "A soldier?" he sneered.

"It is better than a factory worker, no? At least he will have more options. He would be able to continue his education."

"He will be the son of a traitor to the people. The Kuryakin name will forever be tainted. He will be an outcast." Viktor argued bitterly.

"His loyalty will be continually tested and he will have to work harder to prove himself worthy that is true. But it is an obstacle that can be overcome."

Viktor bowed his head and gazed unseeing at the carpet in front of him. Fifteen years in a labour camp, just because something he had said, or written, had been taken the wrong way by Stalin. A man so paranoid he would shoot his own shadow if he could. But it was Viktor and his family who were to suffer and their suffering would be great.

He slowly raised his head. "Which camp?"

"Sevvostlag," Kuznetsov replied tonelessly.

Viktor closed his eyes in anguish.

"I would like some time with my wife and son," he opened his eyes and looked at Kuznetsov.

"I can give you an hour, no more. You should advise you wife to pack as many things of value as she can fit into a suitcase. Things that she will be able to sell. She and your son will have to leave at daybreak."

"They can stay with us," Ivan injected. "For as long as they like." It was a desperate and rash offer and they both knew it.

"You have seven children, Ivan," Viktor replied wearily. "You do not have the room for two more. And if it's found out you have the family of a traitor under your roof, you could suffer the same fate. But I would be grateful if you could help Yagoda and Illya find accommodation elsewhere." He stepped towards Ivan and placed his hands on the shorter man's shoulders. "If you could keep your promise to help when you can, I will always be in your debt."

Ivan nodded and the two embraced.

"We will wait in the hall." Ivan headed for the door, Kuznetsov a step behind. As the door opened Yagoda was stood a few paces away, her face pinched white. There was no tray in her hands. Illya stood by her side, his face usually so full of mischievous smiles, was pulled into a worried frown. Ivan looked at them both with dismay as he walked past.

She turned her gaze to Viktor who summoned her inside. The doors closed ominously behind her and her son.

Notes: NKVD was the forerunner for the KGB Although the movie indicates Illya was 10/11 when his father was sent to the gulag, I have taken creative licence to move it back a couple of years, so that I could put the story into the Stalin Purges timeframe. Sevvostlag was the labour camp from which prisoners were forced to work on The Road of Bones.