"We don't have all day, comrades" shouted angrily Yurovsky.

All men grumbled at that, they were all tired, yesterday night they had killed the Romanov, and what a joy it was, those bloody aristocrats will never threaten Russia ever again. He, Yakov Yurovsky had thought about the execution, and had planned for it to be clean and swiftly executed; it turned out to be completely the opposite as soon as he had read the execution papers and started with the shooting, his comrades had all the fun in the world in killing them, each of them took their time and emptied their magazine on them, and wouldn't stop laughing at their fear and desperation.

He didn't criticize that, he approved it, finally, Moscow had realized that they were a liability and had to be eliminated, maybe now they would go into the major cities and clean them of all the bourgeoise, and in doing so help the revolution, but first, they had to get rid of the corpses of the family and the serves. Yes, also the serves, those idiots had chosen to be loyal to the monarchy and because of that they paid the price for their loyalty, and soon the whites will share the same fate.

They were going to burn them and pour acid on their corpses and then throw them into a mine shaft, so nobody would know what happened to them, one body was missing, Anastasia's body, but he trusted Gleb to have done the work, or there will be severe consequences, for his mistake.

A thud was heard, three hours later after the execution of the Romanovs, they had ignored it at first, but a feeling in his stomach told Yakov to not ignore it so after a few kilometers he had ordered to stop the truck and check the corpses, there had been a few protests, but a threat of a bullet in their heads had immediately put them quite; they had taken longer than what he had hoped, and worst of all his feelings were right, one body was missing, the youngest daughter, who was to be killed by Gleb Vagarov and now he had to be questioned prolonging their job.

"I thought that pressing a trigger and aim a pistol was something that even children could do, but you comrade Gleb have proven me wrong, could you tell me, WHAT PART WASN'T CLEAR, THE PART OF KILLING A BLOODY ARISTOCRAT, OR THE PART OF CORRECTLY AIMING A GUN AND THEN KILL? EH?" Yurovsky said with his voice rising at every phrase, and the other chuckled at the scene, it looked like a parent was scolding his or her child, and it was very amusing for them.

"I shot at her, I shot at all of them, what makes you think that she didn't have the bloody corsets like all of her sisters and on top of that, and she won't last long here, she doesn't have any kind of clothes for the night and on top of that she is injured" Gleb defended himself.

"Enter in the truck" he ordered to the rest of his men, they grumbled at the order, but like before another threat had solved the problem; soon they were all inside the truck and now he could speak freely to Gleb.

He approached Gleb and put a hand on his shoulder; "I had tasked you with killing her because I know of your weakness, of the feeling you have for her", he whispered and said the last part with disgust; Gleb tried to speak at that "I-" he started but Yakov stopped him, "I don't blame you for that, a whole genre of literature is based on that, but what I can blame you is for your incompetence, it was obvious that she had the corset with the gems and it was your duty to make sure that she was dead, what would your father say?"

"He would be disappointed," Gleb said lowering his head and crying, "I have failed you and my father's memory"

"Don't cry, children do that, we are communist and we can't cry, you are right about what you said, but don't think that you can't fix this error"

"What?"

"You will go wherever she is and you will do your duty," Yakov said looking straight into his eyes, Gleb eyes didn't move from the harsh stare but showed some sign of doubt, it took some time before he spoke again.

"I am going to do my job, I won't let you down, I promise" Gleb finally said, lowering his head.

"You don't have to promise to me, you have to make a promise to yourself, that is the only thing that matters," Yakov said finally and removed his hand from his shoulder, leaving him and going to the truck.

"Do what you want, what matters to me, remember, we are communist and we take what we want, that is what I have always taught to you and my son, and Ivan looks up to you; remember this your job is to make sure Anastasia Romanov no longer exists, the method you use is your choice, what you do to her is your choice" Yakov said, but Gleb hadn't finished yet.

"My pistol is empty, and I don't have another magazine," Gleb said somewhat shy and shrugging a little.

Yakov nodded and traded his gun with Gleb's, "It has only one shot, don't waste it" Yakov said, nodded at him, and entered the truck, Gleb meanwhile remained behind and after some time he too when for his way searching for his prey, he didn't know that Yakov was still looking at him with the mirror of the truck, he signed, he hopped that the boy did his work, and returned home.

Since the day Gleb's father died, Yakov had taken him under his wing, raised him along with his son, they had become somewhat brothers, but he knew that Gleb never considered him a brother, fulfilling his father wished was his only thought, and Ivan admired him, for his strength and determination to serve the party, but that little brat of a Romanovs had clouded his judgment, but he had to make the right choice or this mistake could very well lead to his death; if he did make the wrong choice, he won't be only one who committed a mistake if Gleb failed then Yakov would have failed in raising a good communist.

Yakov pushed down this memory in the back of his head, it was no matter anymore, it was past and the past must remain in the past, now in the present, he had a job to do and he was going to do it to the end, Gleb would do his job and he would do him, his subordinates also known as comrades would do the dirty work, he had just to make sure that they did it rightly, two of them were transporting the fuel and other two were transporting the acid, they would start with the little ones and then go to the older ones, the pyre had already been prepared, it will be an easy job.

One shot was heard then another one quickly followed it, they both passed near his ear and he had forgotten the ringing of a bullet that went to near his head, and this sends chills down his spine scaring him to the core, he would have fallen forward had it not been for the scream of his mean, those bullets hadn't been aimed at his head, but instead, they were aimed at the tank containing the fuel and the acid, and the fuel blew up in a cloud made of fire that engulfed the two soldiers carrying it, it was a quick death, but those with the acid could not say the same, it to blew up but the acid went to their legs erasing them from their bodies.

Another two bullets were shot at the suffering soldiers, hitting them in the head, putting them out of their misery. Yakov turned his head to face the shooter, he had forgotten that his gun was empty, but that wasn't a problem, the shooter whomever he was, shoot at him in the hands fixing that problem, Yakov fell on the snow painting it red, with a yell of pain, he remained there for a few moments his elbows and knees sustain him, and the pain keeping him awake, he raised his head looking at where the shooter should be, but he couldn't see anybody, he remained in this position for a few moments.

Something rose from the snowed ground, it was all white and very tall, a face could be seen but the distance and the snow covering it, made it impossible to recognize it; he began moving towards him, and as he came forward he removed the heavy hood, thus reveling his dark brown hair, with snow here and there; he was carrying a rifle, it was the model made for the sharpshooters, but this one didn't have the scope for aiming, and he was begin to suspect who carry tgat weapin, only one person had a gun similar to that, and that man wasn't just one sharpshooter who had served the imperial army, he was the most famous and notorious, even the germans feared him, they called him, "the white of death", whoever he saw had a limited time on this earth, and soon will face death, his kill count was over a thousand, and he was the most decorated soldier of all the army, he didn't know the name, but something was off about him, as he came forward, Yakov could swear that he had seen that face somewhere and after much thinking, he reconized him, he came to him as Dmitry Tchaikovsky a fellow communist and member of the cheka, but then why had he shoot at fellow communists?

"I trust you recognized me, isn't it correct comrade Yurovsky?" The man asked with raised eyebrows in a challenging mode.

"I did, but that's not who you are is it?" Asked Yurovsky glaring at him.

"You are correct, my real name is Dmitry Rurikovich, also known as "the white death" a title that I find both correct and incorrect, and above all else amusing," Dimitri said with an amused smile, and with his usual defiant and challenging way that looked so much like the brat of the Romanovs. And confirming his suspicion about who he was.

"I take that you are a spy or a traitor then," said Yurovsky angrily, he heated with all of his heart traitors or spies, they were the worst kind of people, they ruined the plans, it was their fault if a mission, or a campaign, or a war failed, if they weren't there then that goal could have been achieved, he would strangle him if he could.

"Triple agent Is the correct terminology I spied for the whites the reds, and for the reds, the whites, and with the whites, I chose what information was to be given to the reds" he chuckled at what he said, but then he immediately went serious and it was kind of scary the look he gave to Yurovsky, he looked with a determination to kill, like when a predator has chosen his prey and has only to attack it, he looked around at the mutilated corpses, at the damage he had caused on fellow human beings, Yakov could have sworn that he didn't see any remorse in his eyes, for the damage he had caused; but there wasn't also any kind of contempt or joy in what he had done, there was only acceptance; he approached the truck and entered where the corpses of the execution where he remained there for quite some time before he got out.

Dimitris's face was blank and deprived of any kind of emotion, as he came out of the truck; he put the rifle on his back and took his pistol, and rather than shooting at the murderer he looked at the pistol he held and confronted it with, Yakov's pistol, he then took both of them and placed them on his belt, Yurovsky didn't have any kind of clue of what he was doing, but in all honesty, he wasn't interested in that; he was more concerned for his well-being, but even an idiot could have figured out that it was very stupid to think about preserving his wellbeing when the only way in which this whole meeting will conclude is with his death.

"I am going to kill you," he looked at him, peacefully, and with the resignation of what was to come "I am going to feed you to the beasts, I'll tell you the reason for my choice on the way to your death place, I can promise you that, not because I like you or because I respect or I am your friend; in fact, I hate you, for what you did, for the way you took the life away of so many people, and not just men, but women, girls, and children too and that is a one-way ticket to death and dishonor, and you along with all of your comrades have just paid for its bought with the blood of innocents"

"Stand up" Dimitri commanded with a harsh and cold tone, after some time; but Yakov didn't comply and he remained there, his eyes fixed with a murderous glare directed at the men above him, seeing that this one won't cooperate, Dimitri, picked him up and made him stand up roughly, making him almost shout in pain.

He then took a rocket gun, and shoot it in the sky, the projectiles rose through the air, its color was red and it could be easily seen even at a distance of a few kilometers, soon another projectile could be seen a few kilometers south, the other friends were coming.

"You've called your friends," said Yakov with disgust.

"Of course I did, and one of them is a spy like me, so it is unfortunate that you'll never meet him, you two could have gotten along just fine" Dimitri responded, making fun of him, to which he grumbled.

He then led him through the woods, soon the truck and where everything happened could not be seen anymore, Yakov thinks that they aren't following a path, although if he was to say that, Dimitri would disagree with that, he was raised here, he knew the forest and the mountains like the back of his hand, that is how he had found the Bolsheviks, after all, there aren't many roads here and the only one that exists, leads only to the old iron mine, so their destination was obvious and he went directly through the woods and over the mountain, arriving there far earlier than them.

"So you weren't joking when you said that you were going to feed me to the bears?" Yakov asked with tension and a hint of fear, who wouldn't have it.

"No, I wasn't" Dmitry answered, that was that it was needed for Yakov, he broke off from his grip and started to fight back, he first freed himself from his grip, then turned, and punched him in the face, and started to run as far away as he could.

Dmitri did the greatest mistake that anyone could do, he had underestimated him, but he wasn't the only one, Yakov had made an even bigger mistake, he ran in the woods without having any kind of direction, how stupid; and on top of that he went in the worst direction one could go, he was going to Dimitri old house, well his father's and grandfather's house, but of the trio remained only him alive; Yakov was going to a river and he was going to cut to thought the woods and stop him, after all, he had to kill him.

Yakov was running as fast as he could and as best as he could, having your both of your hands destroyed by bullets wasn't something enjoyable or evenn ignorable it was quite the opposite, the wind hitting his hands made them even more sensitive to the cold, and that brought so much pain and also running was hard, his hands didn't help and even moving his arms brought pain; but that was better than what his fate would have been if that man had him; now he understood the fear of the germans, he had easily killed four members of the Cheka, maybe five, with Gleb; but he couldn't think about him now, he had to survive this ordeal, and report to the high command; soon he arrived at a riverbank, he both cursed and was grateful for finding it, cursed because now he could be found more easily, and thanked because as they say rivers if followed can lead to villages, but that wasn't something certain, he'll have to hope, to find one; but that was uselless because as soon as he turned a shot was heard and a bullet went thought his left knee, making him fall and lose any chance of escape.

"You're brave I give you that, but unfortunately for you, I have a reputation to hold and a job to do; so that was quite useless and stupid of you to do that," Dmitri said after arriving at where he was on the ground.

"Stupid! How would you react if someone told you that he was going to give you to the bears" Yakov shouted in response, but he was met by a confused frown.

"Eh? I'm not going to feed you to the bears, alive; I'm not that bad, unlike you, I am going to kill you and then let the bears and all of the other animals have your body and eat it all" Dmitry responded incredulously, how could anyone think that? He wasn't that evil to let one die of slow and painful death, maybe he should have explained it better, but that past is the past.

"But you said that you were going to explain why you chose that fate for me, and it was kind of obvious what you were going to do, to me" Yakov also said incredulously, what the hell was going on? He had asked himself, had met by a sign.

"I said that I was going to kill you, then I also said that I was going to explain myself, let's start with the latter one, the reason is simple as my grandfather once said to me, letting a body be eaten by animals is a dishonor for the man who died as all that he is, in the end, is food and it also makes him both unimportant and in the end useless, and it is dishonorable for his family because they do not have a place to mourn and remember, and that is the right fate for you" Dimitri explained patiently, he waited for a few moments so that he could absurd what he said, and before he could respond, Dmitri extracted his gun and shot him in the head, killing him instantly, he will leave him where he was and let nature have him, after all as he said before he will now be food for animals. Dmitri had done his duty and he had to meet the others, but before that he would go to his old home and visit the tombs of his family it had been too long since he last saw them. Certainly, he'll know where he was

Thank you all for reading this chapter, in the next chapter we'll see a hint of Dimitri's past and also meet another major character. Bye-bye