Nearly two years later,Capitan Viktor Karkoff of the Main Intelligence Directorate of Soviet Military Intelligence paid an unannounced visit to Moskva School no. 7 exactly at two in the afternoon on 30 September; sending the staff into a panicked frenzy as most of them had been at their midday meal and were unprepared to receive a visitor. To receive one from the GRU...they surely had to be in trouble, why else would a member of the Directorate be there?

He was shown hastily to the school Directors office and seated at the man's desk, when Dr. Granitsky came rushing in.

The man was disheveled, still tucking in his shirt tail when he realized he was not alone in his office.

"Comrade! Comrade Capitan...please forgive my rudeness at not being here to greet you! Had I but known..." said Dr. Granitsky.

"Granitsky,"grumbled Karkoff. " I have no patience for your sniveling...now get me a bottle of vodka and some food and be quick about it."

Twenty minutes later Madame Vilnya came in carrying a tray with the vodka, two glasses, caviar. buiscuits, smoked fish, and slices of fresh fruit. She smiled warily at the Capitan, bowing her head just a little as she placed the tray on Granitsky's desk after which she nervously backed out of the room.

Granitsky quickly poured a drink for the Capitan as well as for himself, and with a trembling hand, raised his glass in toast.

"Za Vas, Tovarisch_to you, Comrade."

Karkoff raised his glass swallowing his vodka but still said nothing. He ate, drank more vodka, then asking for the tray to be removed, he finally spoke to the professor, gesturing for him to sit.

Granitsky sat at a chair in front of his own desk, feeling very much like one of his students when called in to be lectured by him.

"You received a memo from the Politburo requesting the names of your top-ranking students..."said Karkoff.

"Yes Komrade Kapitan...I responded immediately, but that was nearly two years ago. I hope there was no problem?" Granitsky, became more nervous.

Karkoff ignored the man and continued to speak.

"I am here to interview those students which you identified as we have need of qualified candidates to function in military circles. They are all as I recall of a suitable age now. If I make any selections after interviewing them; the students will then leave with me. Others will be coming as well to conduct further interviews with the remaining students, but my selections take priority. Is that understood?"

"Yes Comrade," the professor answered, breathing a sigh of relief.

Karkoff placed a small leather satchel on the desk, opening it carefully; he removed a piece of paper containing the list of names from Moskva School

Granitsky has listed five of them and he proceeded to read them aloud: Fyodorov, Anton. Gurevich, Valery. Volkov, Grigory. Ilyukhin, Leonid. Kuryakin, Illya...I want them brought to me."

"Yes Comrade, " Granitsky answered sharply," I will have them assembled immediately!" He disappeared out of his office to quickly gather the boys and have them made presentable. Twenty minutes later the five candidates were all seated on the benches outside the Director's office, straightening their clothes, passing a comb among them to tidy their hair and just looking a bit nervous for all of them to have been summoned there in such haste.

They were told only to report immediately with no explanation, and there they waited, as one by one they were called into Dr. Granitsky's office.

"Maybe they are accusing us of cheating on our examinations?" Grigory said as he leaned, in speaking to the others in a hushed voice.

"Do not be ridiculous!" Leonid answered." We five are and have been the smartest students in the entire school, why would they think that! What do you say Kuryakin?

Illya simply shrugged and said nothing to join in the nervous chatter among the boys.

"Sush...shush! Some one is coming!" Fyodorov spat out.

"Comrade Professor, tell me your impressions of each of these students before they are brought in...and not just academically, tell me what their personalities are like, their associations among their fellow students. I want a complete picture of them socially, as well of their studies and marks," stated Karkoff. "Bring them in as they are ranked as students.

"Yes, Comrade. The first would be Anton Fyodorov, he is an amicable boy, friendly with the other students, well liked..." Granitsky began.

As the boys were brought in, questioned and dismissed each was ordered to say nothing to the others as they waited and were to return immediately to his classes. One by one they came and went silence, until Illya was the last one sitting alone on the bench.

Karkoff thumbed through Illya Kuryakin's academic file as the professor spoke about him.

"Illya Kuryakin came to us from the Moskva Orphanage just before it was converted in 1944. He was troublesome at first when he arrived, as he had learned many bad habits in there. Once he settled in to a structured academic environment he began to flourish intellectually. He is perhaps the most gifted student I have ever seen, excelling in mathematics and the sciences, he is very talented with languages as well...and his memory is phenomenal."

"What about his personality...what is he like now?" asked Karkoff

"He is not social and tends to remain solitary. He is slightly built and small for his age but can handle himself quite well. The other students do not dislike him, they seem to just tolerate his aloofness but I suspect they may resent his abilities. He does as he is told, however he is quite stubborn and has an independent streak in him that makes him speak his mind. There have been several "incidents" between himself and his teachers that have required...shall we say "corporal punishment." The boy is smart and he knows it and is unafraid to challenge his teachers in spite of the threat of disciplinary measures. He is very strong willed this one! I have tried to break him of his boldness, but without success."

"He is a member of the Komosol?" Karkoff asked.

"Yes Komrade, all my students join the Young Pioneers at the proper age. When Kuryakin turned fourteen and I saw to it that he was recommended immediately to join Komosol."

"And how is his heath?"

"He is disease free, healthy and strong in spite of the fact that he tends to be on the skinny side," the professor smiled.

"Bring him in," ordered Karkoff.

The professor opened the door and waved Illya into his office and the boy immediately stood at attention until he was told to sit in the chair offered to him in front of the desk. Illya barely glanced at the officer seated in front of him as he sat down, again remaining stiff and at attention.

"This is Comrade Capitan Viktor Karkoff of the Military Directorate, and he wishes to speak with you,"Granitsky made the introduction, and stepped off the the side.

Illya made no acknowledgement, nor did he feel he was expected to and remained silent.

"Name," Karkoff stated, using a brusk tone of voice.

"Kuryakin, Illya Nickovich, Comrade Capitan."

"Where are you from boy...tell me about your home and your parents?"

Illya was a little surprised at such a simplistic question, as he could see the Captain had his student file open in front of him on the desk.

"I was born in Kyiv of Russian parentage Comrade. We lived in a dacha outside the city. My entire family was killed during The Great Patriotic War...as were many families." He kept it brief with just enough information to satisfy the question.

"Hmmm...your name. There is something familiar about it," Karkoff said.

" Yes... there was a Count Alexander Kuryakin, the end of the 19th, early 20th century, I believe from Kyiv. Do you know of him.?" Karkoff asked carefully.

Illya was sure the man already knew the answer to that question and decided it was best not to attempt to lie to him about it.

"He was my grandfather Comrade." Illya stated flatly.

"Ah so you admit readily to your ties to the bourgeois aristocracy, but you have also renounced those ties and are a member of the the Kommunisticheskiy Soyus Molofuozhi and Komosol are you not? So you show your loyalty to the Party eh?..." Karkoff smiled.

"Da, Comrade Capitan," Illya answered, not letting his eyes drift to the man.

"And your father NicholaĆ­, how did he die?"

Illya's jaw tightened."My father was of member of the partisans fighting in the forest of Bykivnia. He died a glorious death defending our country against the Nazi's, as did my older brother Dimitry, Comrade."

"I did not ask you about your brother...boy!" Karkoff snapped, then quickly thumbed through Illya's file. "It says here you have no brothers and sisters."

"There must have been an oversight sir, as I had three brothers and a sister. All of whom were murdered by the Nazis." Illya answered mater-of-factly.

Karkoff could hear hatred in the boy's voice as he spoke even though Illya maintained his composure.

"Kuryakin, it is not good habit...never offer information which is not asked of you. Remember that. So I hear that you are quite a clever and gifted student. You excel in your studies far beyond your fellow class mates...how would you like to attend University and further those studies?"

Ilya's eyes widened "That would be most desirable Comrade Capitan," he answered showing no other reaction.

Karkoff let out a hearty laugh. "I thought you would say as much. If I act as your sponsor; there will be a price, boy. I will expect your full cooperation and loyalty. You will be groomed to serve your government ...can you do that Illya Nickovich?"

Illya finally faced Karkoff, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Da Comrade Capitan Karkoff...I live to serve the Soviet People," he said knowing that was what was Karkoff needed to hear.

"Yes you are the bold one..."Karkoff laughed heartily. "I will hold you to your word." Karkoff dismissed Illya, and when the boy left he turned his attention to Granitsky.

"I have made my decision...see that Kuryakin is ready to leave within the hour."

"Yes Comrade Capitan," Granitsky answered promptly." You will remember that I was the one who brought him to the Directorate's attention, will you not?"

"Of Course Comrade Doctor..."Kigaroff answered absent-mindedly, feeling nothing but disdain for the man and his groveling ways.

Illya Kuryakin left Moskva School no. 7 that afternoon seated in the back of a black sedan with Capitan Viktor Karkoff.

"You must study hard at University and do as your are told Illya Nickovich."

"Thank you Comrade Capitan. I will do my best sir," Illya answered sincerely.

"Viktor...my name is Viktor, you may call me that since I am now the closest thing to family that you have. So tell me Illya Nickovich,how did your family die? How is it that you survived?"

Illya recounted his painful memories without showing any emotion...the murder of his mother and the twins, the death of his father and Dimitry in the Nazi raid in Bykivnia. He left out details of Vanya and his gypsy connections knowing full well that having gypsy blood might threaten the offer made to him by Karkoff. Illya spoke of his babushka and of little Katiya's painful death. And lastly he spoke of his time on the streets of Kyiv and of his internment in Syrets.

"You were a prisoner in Syrets!" Viktor exclaimed. "That is a lie... no one survived the camp and only a few escaped near the end, there was no record of internment in any camp in your records!" He grabbed Illya's shirt pulling the boy toward him."Do you think me stupid boy?"

"No sir, it is the truth. Illya spoke loudly."I am not lying!" He pulled up his left sleeve, showing Karkoff the tattoo on his forearm.

Viktor recognized the code immediately and realized the boy was telling him the truth.

"I was with the group that escaped that night towards the end, there was a fire, "Illya spoke softly, "the night of the uprising in the camp on 29 September. Somehow my name never appeared on the list of those who got away...another oversight perhaps?" He smiled just a little. Karkoff released Illya, allowing him to sit back in the seat.

His choice was a good, as this one was clever.

In his brief life Illya had seen pain, suffering and death; so much so that it could have either taken away his will to live or strengthen it. He has chosen to live and now he did not know where this new life offered to him by Viktor Karkoff would take him.

At least it seemed to be the first good thing that had happened to him in so many years. He smiled again, remembering Vanya's foretelling of his future...perhaps this was finally the beginning of that future. Illya could only wait and hope that it was...

There was only silence between Viktor and the boy for the duration of the trip. Viktor took Illya into his home, bought him suitable clothing and books, and sent him to the University in Georgia back in the Ukraine. After the successful completion of his education, Illya enlisted in the Navy as part of his mandatory military service, serving a year aboard the Zulu-class nuclear submarine "Moskva".

He was recalled to begin his training as a member of the military intelligence; the price for his education and loyalty to Viktor. Illya had been promised to the "Glavnoye Razvedyvatel' noye Upravleniye" by Karkoff, and now he walked down a path from which there was no return. The old Russian saying rang true for Illya as he had "run from a wolf and ran into a bear"...once you were in the GRU, there was no way out but death.

For the next year, Illya's training as a recruit for the GRU was rigorous and relentless...sometimes bordering on brutal. Trainees who did not live up to the standards of their masters disappeared to die perhaps in the furnaces of Serpkov as was threatened, but no one ever knew for sure, they only saw their comrades were gone, never to be seen again.

Threats were issued on a daily basis has Illya was trained in hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, explosives. He was taught to withstand pain and how to administer it. His instructors told him that everything and everyone were merely a tool to gain what ever information he needed to complete an assignment...friendship, sex, the lives of innocent bystanders meant nothing, only the mission did.

He learned to set up, pass and receive information through dead-drops, survelance techniques, to lie without being detected, to bend the truth to suit his needs and to develop and use "assets" for what ever he found necessary.

Many of Illya's abilities suited him well to the life of a spy as he was solitary, emotionless, observant...having learned his ways from his father, brother and Uncle Vanya during the days of the war well before he was recruited to the world of military intelligence.

The cruel hand that life had dealt him also gave him the strength to endure and succeed.

It was winter and his class was on yet another brutal exercise"Dvigat'sya! Vy lenivy sobak!_move you lazy dogs! " The trainer screamed.

" You call yourselves Russian? You are nothing but soft children...why would the Motherland want you?"

Illya and the last of the recruits in his class slogged along in the deepening snow.; stripped down to only their underwear and boots. The pace was bringing a stitch to his side, though he continued moving without complaint, taking deep breaths to relax and make the pain go away. A few of the others fell in surrender to their physical weakness and were left behind to make it back to the compound or not. No one looked back to them...

Finally the group reached the barracks and one by one they entered, dropping to the floor or to their bunks. Illya alone, stopped at the doorway, turning back for just a moment to see if their fallen comrades followed, then walked to his bunk rubbing his arms and hands to warm them. He sat down slowly, watching everything around him..

The Capitan watched the men on his closed circuit monitor, listening as they moaned and complained."That one," he said aloud to his aid."Kuryakin..he will do," pointing at the screen to the blond man.

Illya was summoned to the office of the commander. He dressed quickly, still half numb from the training exercise and arrived just a few minutes later, clicking the heels of his boots together as he snapped to attention and saluted.

"Comrade Capitan, Illya Kuryakin reporting as ordered sir!"

"Kuryakin...yes,"said the officer, rising behind his desk, holding what Illya presumed to be his personnel file. The Kapitan looked through the folder, as he spoke carefully. "High scores in marksmanship, self defense and hand-to-hand, explosives ordinance, interrogation...you have received all outstanding marks, but you are an intellectual, and I have no use for intellectuals always looking down their noses at people! Do YOU think you are superior Comrade Kuryakin?

"No sir, I have dedicated myself to serve...all that I have, all that I am, belongs to the Soviet people. I live to serve the Soviet Union. If you have found me lacking in some area Comrade, tell me and I will correct it, sir." Illya spoke impassively.

The Capitan threw the folder on the desk..."Acceptable answer Comrade, congratulations, you have passed and are now a probationary agent in the GRU."

Illya remained silent and merely raised his chin a little, showing his pride in his achievement. Viktor would be pleased.

"So what do you have to say for yourself Comrade?" The commander smiled as he place a bottle of vodka and a pair of glasses on his desk.

"Eto bol'shaya chesti' -seer. Chesti, chtoya budu derzhat' vernyr_ It is an honor sir, and one that I will hold true to,"Illya answered.

He swallowed the glass of vodka handed to him by the Capitan, then was dismissed. He was told he would have a few days off to settle his affairs before beginning his first assignment.

"Spacibo Comrade Capitan!" Illya saluted crisply and left, knowing now there was no turning back.

As his first assignment, he was sent to the closed city of Gorky, spending countless hours monitoring and recording the conversations of the numerous scientists that worked there in the city, as they toiled on secret projects for the government. It was a boring assignment...

Finally, Illya Kuryakin was given his first mission out of the country. It was to serve a dual purpose, as Viktor wished him to continue his studies, benefiting from a "western" education at the Sorbonne in Paris. Illya would study for his master's degree in physics and at the same time, spy on Russian scientists and other students attending University. This would be the first major assignment of his career.

As he sat on the plane waiting for it preparing to taxi and depart for Paris, Illya leaned on his hand staring out the window at the tarmac, when an old Russian proverb came to him...

"Mne nuzhno ne boyus' chto moy vragi_I need not fear my enemies because the most they can do is attack me. I need not fear my friends because the most they can do is betray me. But I have much to face from people who are indifferent..." It was the indifferent and the unknown that Illya Kuryakin faced now, and he had to be ready for it.

He had come a long way from being that frightened little boy in Kyiv...and now a new chapter in his young life was about to unfold. He was eighteen, and green, and he only hoped he would not fail in performing his duty to the Soviet Union.

FINIS