Author's Note: Hey, everyone! I hope those who are still reading did their best to survive some of my long chapters. Honestly, this is the first story that I have written in a while that has chapters as long as some have been for this story. Well, this chapter is shorter than its predecessor. And in this chapter, a couple of men from Moscow are taking a trip to Japan. As always, please continue to read and give critical reviews.

Nobody will send us deliverance.
Not God, nor tsar, nor a hero.
We shall be liberated by our own hands.
To overthrow oppression,
take back all that is good.
Blow up the furnace.
And strike boldly while the iron is hot—

"The Internationale" (national anthem of the Soviet Union from 1917-1944)

The Red Scare

Chapter VII

In Moscow, at four in the afternoon, Daniil entered Josef Stalin's office, and noticed that the President of the Soviet Union was reading a book on the tsars. Since the fall of Tsarist Russia, Soviet books on the tsars presented all of them in a negative light—with the exception of those tsars the Bolsheviks admired. But on this day, the book that Stalin read was pre-1917 Revolution. Before the 1917 Revolution, books on the tsars would be objective—with the exception of those tsars closest to the reigning tsar.

"Joe?" Daniil began.

Stalin turned, and closed the book. "Yes?"

"I found out the information that you requested."

"You mean on that false letter?"

Daniil nodded. "Yes, it was mailed in Okinawa, in October of 1923."

Stalin returned the nod. "I see."

"So, Joe, what will you do now?"

Stalin drummed his fingers on the book of the tsars. "We're going on a trip, Daniil."

"We?"

"Yes, to Japan."

"Japan?!"

Stalin nodded.

"But how are we going to take a trip to Japan?"

"Get on a boat, fly in an airplane, something like that."

"But what about the country?"

"It'll be fine."

"Wait, Joe! You're the President of the Soviet Union. Everybody knows who you are."

"Yeah, so?"

"What if somebody attacks you? Or if the Romanov children really are in Japan, what if they recognize you?"

Stalin placed his chin between his thumb and first finger. "You know, someone told me once that the way people identify me is by my moustache. So…"

Stalin entered his washroom, closed, and locked the door. A few minutes later, he returned clean-shaven. "So, what do you think?"

Daniil blinked. He had known Stalin for six years, and never once had he seen him without his moustache. Stalin truly did not look recognizable. "If I wouldn't have known you, I never would have guessed that you are Josef Stalin."

Stalin laughed, and clapped his hands. "That's what I wanted to hear! Come then! Pack your clothes. We're headed on a train bound for Siberia. From there, we'll secure a boat, cross the Sea of Japan, and arrive in Okinawa."

Stalin and Daniil's journey across Russia had been a success. Without his trademark moustache, Stalin was practically unnoticeable by the Russian people. To the average Russian, Stalin looked like a traveling businessman. A little over a week later, Stalin and Daniil arrived in Okinawa.

"Do you speak any Japanese, Joe?"

"No, not really. I only know a few words here and there. But I understand that a lot of the Japanese are fluent in Russian."

"Really?! How do you know that?"

"It's something that I learned during the Russo-Japanese war. And if that fails, I can always try to speak English."

"They can speak English?!"

Stalin smirked. "I don't know. But more and more people seem to be learning it to do business with Britain and America."

When Stalin and Daniil approached an Imperial Mail clerk, Stalin added, "I guess we're about to find out."

Behind his desk, the Imperial postal clerk shuffled through some paper work. He was so caught up in his work that he did not notice Stalin or Daniil.

"Good day, sir," Stalin said.

The postal clerk stopped and looked up. The clerk smiled. "Well, this is certainly interesting," he said in perfect Russian, "a pair of Russians."

Stalin returned the smile. "You are correct, sir!"

"What can I do for you?"

Stalin showed the clerk the letter that was mailed to Lenin from Okinawa. "Do you remember seeing this letter?"

The clerk's eyes grew wide. "Vladimir Lenin—the former Soviet leader, right?"

Stalin nodded.

"A letter to him is something I'd hardly forget, but why do you two gentlemen have the letter?"

"We're investigators from the Soviet Union. President Stalin thought there was something queer about this letter, so he received permission from the emperor to see if we could investigate."

"Oh, I see. Well, I can provide you some information."

"Thank you."

"But first I need to see some approval."

"Approval?"

"Yes, approval from the emperor. You know, papers."

Stalin paused. "I'm sorry, but we generally do not carry those papers. It gives too much away."

The clerk nodded. "I understand, but without those papers, I can't help you."

Stalin reached into his pocket, and removed some yen. "Can you help us now?"

The clerk stared at the money, and then returned to Stalin. "I'm sorry, but taking your money would be dishonorable."

Stalin nodded, reached into his pocket, and removed some more yen. "You could also say it would be dishonorable not to take our money. Considering that it might make you and your wife very happy."

"…That's certainly true…Very well," the clerk said, while he took the money.

Stalin smiled. "Now, what can you tell us?"

"The letter was mailed by a man three years ago."

"Was he a foreigner?"

"No, he was Japanese."

Stalin massaged his chin, with his thumb and first finger. "I see. Do you know why he would write a letter to Lenin?"

"He said that he was mailing it for a friend. Obviously, he didn't write it."

"Obviously…But that doesn't make sense why another Japanese man would write to Lenin."

"No, not really."

"…Do a lot of foreigners come to Japan?"

"Oh, certainly! We have visitors from many countries—just like yourselves."

"…Do foreigners ever immigrate to Japan?"

"Certainly. In fact, there's a place in Japan known as the 'Foreigner's Cemetery.'"

"The Foreigner's Cemetery?"

The clerk nodded. "Yes."

"I take it foreigners go there, when they die?"

The clerk chuckled. "Well, that's one way of putting it. But there are plenty of natural-born citizens buried there as well."

Stalin nodded. "I see, and where is this Foreigner's Cemetery?"

"Yokohama."

"Yokohama?"

The clerk nodded. "Yes, it's a city on the main island."

Stalin returned the nod. "Thank you. You've been a big help."

"My pleasure."

Stalin gestured for Daniil to walk away from the clerk."

"So what do we do now?" asked Daniil.

"We take a trip to Yokohama."