Page 99 of Beehive
“It’s not just about image,” Manakin said, finding his voice. “This would destroy any trust the world still has in him. The Allies are already uneasy about Stalin, have been since early in the war. If the world sees this . . .” He gestured to the screen where another group of prisoners met their end. “It will confirm every fear, every suspicion. No leader will be able to deny whatthey see with their own eyes. The Soviets wouldn’t just lose their moral high ground; they’d become the world’s new enemy.”
Manakin took a few steps to the sideboard, refilled his glass, and took a long sip. I got the impression he wanted time to think more than he needed another drink. “This isexactlywhy we can’t let this get out. Do you think Stalin will sit back and let his empire crumble? He’d burn the world to ashes before he’d let that happen.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Arty squared off from across the table, his frustration spilling over. “Bury it? Pretend it doesn’t exist? How many more atrocities will he commit while we turn a blind eye? How many didHitlercommit before American righteousness finally stirred? If you had something that could have stopped Hitler before . . . before the war, would you have done it? Of course, you would!”
“That’s not our call,” Manakin said sharply. “Our job was to recover the film, nothing more. It’s Washington’s call, not ours.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” Arty snapped. “We all knew this wasn’t just another mission. The moment you saw that canister, you knew it, too.”
I leaned forward and gripped Arty’s arm. He was dancing on the line between respect and defiance.
“That’s enough,” I said, my voice firm. “Arguing won’t change what’s on that film. The question is, what do we do with it now?”
Arty glared at Manakin a moment longer before turning and shutting the microfiche off. The room plunged into an uneasy silence.
The air was thick with the weight of impossible choices.
“Stalin has already shown his hand,” Thomas said, breaking the silence. “The resources he poured into East Berlin, the agents he’s deployed . . . he’s terrified of this getting out. This, and however many other pieces of evidence that might point to his handiwork across Eastern Europe. That’s why he’s moving sofast to consolidate power. He’s not just securing territory; he’s building a wall of silence.”
I nodded, the pieces falling into place. “If this gets out, it’ll fracture the Allies even more than they already are. Truman and Eden2—hell, even De Gaulle—they’d never trust Stalin again. The postwar won’t just be a political standoff; it’ll become another open conflict.”
“And millions more will die,” Manakin added quietly.
“But how many will die if we let this stay hidden?” Arty said, his voice breaking. “How many more executions, how many more purges, how many will live in perpetual fear before someone finally says, ‘Enough’?”
The room fell silent again, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Manakin was right, but so was Arty.
How did leaders choose between terrible options? Each led the world down a decidedly different path. Which would foster goodwill and peace? Which led to bloodshed and strife? How was anyone supposed to know which to take when the stakes were incalculably high?
I looked at Thomas. His face was lined with worry, his eyes meeting mine with an unspoken question.
“We’ve always been good at following orders,” I said softly. “But maybe this time, we need to make our own choice.”
He nodded, his gaze steady. “For the people in those images, and for those who come after them.”
Manakin exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping as he ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand what you’re proposing. If this gets out, it’ll change everything. The people who need to know about this—who need toseethis—are the Allied leaders. They’re the ones making the decisions. They already suspect Stalin isn’t the partner he pretends to be. This will drive an unmovable wedge between them.”
“A good wedge, if you ask me,” Arty said, a hint of his old snarky humor returning.
“We can’t trust Eden or Truman to go public. Hell, I’m not even sure they’d share this with each other, despite what they say on stage. Thisneedsto come out. The whole world needs to see what life under Stalin really means.”
“That’s quite a risk,” Manakin said so quietly I barely heard him. “And it’s a decision we are not empowered to make. Our job is to gather information so those in power make wise decisions. We are not paid to do the thinking for them. That isn’t how democracy works.”
“Who said democracy’s working? Looks like a shit show to me,” Thomas snarled.
“Those may as well beStalin’swords.” Manakin stared at Thomas for a long moment. Then, without a word, he turned and walked to the window and stared out at the city beyond.
Arty looked toward me, his eyes pleading. “So, what do we do?”
“The only thing we can.” Manakin’s voice was so quiet I almost had to lean in to listen. He didn’t turn around, just kept staring out the window. His shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh.
“God help us all.”
1. The French Military Government for Germany, thebody was responsible for the administration and rebuilding of the French-occupied areas of Germany, including parts of Berlin, during the Allied occupation.
2. Anthony Eden (Lord Avon) became British Prime Minister after Churchill’s party lost the 1945 election.
