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Torn from her home and family at a young age, a Ukrainian farm girl is swept into the KGB’s notorious State School Four. Here she is taught the dark side of sexual seduction and is being trained as spy for the State. Longing for a normal life and a family of her own, she and her boyfriend risk all in a daring escape in the hopes they can build a family somewhere outside the Soviet Union.
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It’s midnight, and Sergey and I are in an alleyway between two buildings. A few moments ago, an anonymous truck driver dropped us here. With a cap pulled low, a bulky coat, and a scarf across the face, we didn’t catch any identifying glimpses of the driver. Since no words were spoken, we never even heard a voice. I couldn’t tell the driver’s age or even if they were male or female. Their anonymity is just one more reminder of the danger we’re facing.
As the truck is driving away, Sergey says, “We have to keep low when we run over to the wall. I can see the ember from the cigarette the truck driver dropped to mark the tunnel entrance. As soon as the truck turns the corner, we can go. We’ll see brake lights flash if the driver sees any border guards.”
When the truck driver shifts into second gear, the truck suddenly makes a loud POW sound from a backfire.
My heart is racing and I feel Sergey tense. “Alexaskya, we have to go right now. That backfire will surely attract the guards,” Sergey says, as he runs to the concrete block wall and begins stomping on the roadway paving bricks where the cigarette is glowing. Suddenly a portion of bricks collapses, leaving an opening about a meter in diameter (three feet). Sergey frantically motions for me to come. I run to the opening and jump in.
As I quickly lower myself down to the horizontal portion of the tunnel, I can hear border guards shouting first in German and then in Russian, “Stehen bleiben, oder wir schießen! Stop, or we will shoot!”
Sergey says, “Go! Go! Hurry!”
I scramble through the short section of the tunnel under the Berlin wall. Wet and muddy, as I approach the other side, I hear BRRRRUP…BRRRRUP. I recognize the short bursts of fire from a Kalashnikov automatic rifle. I feel the percussion from the weapon fire thrumming against my chest. A sinking feeling invades my inner core. I know instantly that Sergey must be dead.
