Though discovered and freed from its 45-year confinement in Jaak Oja’s barn in rural Estonia, the fabulous last 7^th Bugatti Royale remained a captive behind the Soviet Iron Curtain. Mihkel Oja’s plan to spirit away this long lost treasure, had been dashed. Colonel Yuri Petrov a high ranking and highly connected Soviet army officer had stumbled upon the Bugatti’s existence. Petrov, like his mentor, past Soviet Premier Leonid Brehznev, enjoyed a very uncommunist-like passion for exotic cars. Petrov by following the Bugatti’s trail to Estonia had unknowingly foiled Mihkel’s plan to surreptitiously ship the car out of the country. Now, with a harsh winter fast approaching and the team’s legitimate window for leaving Estonia quickly closing and the mounting threat of discovery by communist authorities, Mihkel had to act now or never.

In Search of the Lost 7^th Royale Part 3 (Episode 18 – End Game)

ESTONIA, 1986

St. Lucia’s Day 1986 found Mihkel, in looking ahead, recognizing an oncoming weather pattern. He had seen it once before in the cruel winter of early 1940. Only this time the signs portended an even more brutally punishing Arctic freeze. In light of this observation, he had an idea. Mihkel’s Plan “B” did not even enjoy the slim odds of success associated with the “Trojan Horse” plan that had failed. However, it did have one great advantage. He had made it work once before.

Upon hearing Mihkel’s plan his team of Valentina, Jack, John, and, now, Viktor, new to the leadership role, screamed “absolutely not.” Though Viktor did not yell as vigorously as the others. “That’s insane,” barked Valentina. Mihkel just calmly raised his right hand, palm out, like a policeman stopping traffic. “I have done it before,” Mihkel quietly said attempting to quell their concern. Then, Jack spoke up saying, “Yes and you did it as a young man with a team of huskies and a dog sled, not a 2-ton Bugatti.” Mihkel’s plan focused on prepping the Bugatti to drive across a frozen Gulf of Finland to Finland. With a gently expressed feigned confidence Mihkel attempted to lighten the mood saying, “What could possibly go wrong?”

After a discussion consisting of pretty much equal parts heated disagreement and pleading, Mihkel’s team unanimously rejected the idea. However, Mihkel’s vote would be the only one to matter, and he voted yes. The dissenting but ever loyal team fell in line. They would do everything possible to make the plan work. Though he did not let on, Viktor who had come to revere Mihkel on a level bordering worship, felt a powerful inner burst of pride in witnessing Mihkel’s determination.

The Gulf of Finland had not frozen over since 1940 when Mihkel escaped across the ice to Finland. However, a wicked and unusually severe arctic cold wave had swept over the Baltic region with daily temperatures hovering around 0°F. Mihkel’s instincts afforded him the confidence to basically bet his life that the “Big Freeze” would linger; and it did. For the first time in 47 years the Gulf between Tallinn and Helsinki would freeze. While the “Big Freeze” gave Mihkel what he wanted, it deprived much of the local population of what they needed. As temperatures plummeted producing record lows reaching -24°F. Local power outages left people without heat or electricity, some shops had empty shelves, and inflation soared as the value of the Russian Ruble fell. Rationing of bread and milk products resulted from interrupted supply chains. The inability of the Estonian government to function effectively created an overall shock to the public. The only silver lining of this freak weather crisis came in how it would benefit Mihkel’s escape. The American dollar, of which Mihkel’s team had a stash, became even more desirable, as the Estonian populace found itself with a desperate need for basic supplies, supplies that could purchase on the black market with the more valuable American dollar. Effectiveness of Estonian border security forces and repressive communist policies in general had declined in the face of the punishing weather conditions compounded by a growing Estonian pro-independence movement. If ever there existed the perfect bad storm enabling a clandestine Iron Curtain border crossing this was it.

Compared to the group that undertook the unsuccessful “Trojan Horse” effort, the team in Estonia dedicated to undertaking this ice bound “Great Escape” would look very different and be much smaller. With time quickly running out on the Estonian government sanctioned stays of Valentina’s Dance troop and John’s Geological Research team, both groups would have to depart for Helsinki as planned by December 18th. However, neither Mihkel nor Jack would be with them. Here the team prayed for the persuasive power of the American dollar in a country where a bribe of $500 could significantly improve a local person’s life for a year. Now in the “Big Freeze” its value as an incentive had significantly increased.

So much could go wrong it seemed hardly possible that the plan could succeed. There existed no doubt that faith played a major role. Valentina’s and John’s groups would depart for Helsinki before ice blocked the ferry. Customs officials had accepted life changing bribes of $1000 each to approve passage of Mihkel and Jack through customs “in abstentia” so to speak. Mihkel, Jack, and Viktor intended to remain in Estonia where, supported by the Forest Brothers and Sisters, they would work feverishly to bring the Royale back to an operational state. Amidst the chaos swirling around this last minute (no one wanted to use the word “desperate”) plan’s implementation, thinking negatively had no value. Everyone simply had to believe. Mihkel’s best estimate placed D-Day, (Departure Day) at around the 10^th of January depending on more variables than any team member care to acknowledge.

 

By the morning after being misdirected by Viktor, Petrov now accompanied by a few Soviet soldiers had finally located the warehouse deep in the dense Estonian forest. It triggered a distant memory. An overnight dusting of snow had obscured any tire tracks around the structure. However, once inside, evidence of a flurry of very recent activity could be seen everywhere. Empty Tartu Õlletehas brand beer bottles collected in a barrel. Mugs still held some coffee, though now frozen. However, most perplexing to Petrov, could best be described as a great timber monument. Dominating the warehouse floor resided a giant horizontal log stack. A dumbfounding anomaly, it made no sense until Petrov walked around to the other side to discover that the great stack formed a hollow space large enough to conceal an automobile. Petrov’s pulse raced. Then, his jaw clenched with frustration as he ruminated on what he would have found if he had only gotten here a day earlier. “Damn that stupid truck driver and his stupid directions,” he thought. However, his mood quickly swung to that of a great hunter on a warm trail. He felt a glorious prize within his reach. Still, he would have someone keep an eye on the warehouse.

 

With time melting like butter on a hot skillet, Mihkel had to make two quick decisions. First he had to detail for Valentina and John their roles and responsibilities. While their dance and geological groups would return to America, they would stay in Helsinki and coordinate activities on the Finnish side. For Valentina that meant taking vacation time from her United Nations work to open up channels available to her through her diplomatic contacts and to immediately enlist the support of Ed Sikes. Apparently “Naali, the Arctic Fox” and “Wonderfalk” would have one more long shot mission to face. Secondly, Mihkel no longer felt safe housing the Bugatti on the Oja farm. The urgency of relocating the Royale could not be overstated. On December 16^th the Dance Company and Research team braving 0°F temperatures and biting winds had departed for Helsinki. December 17^th saw Valentina depart for Helsinki having confirmed that Ed Sikes would be arriving in Helsinki in two days. During that time “Wonderfalk” would be busy reconnecting with friends across the Baltic region. His exploits over the past 40-some years had earned him a rightfully earned hero’s stature across the region among senior members of the government and military alike. Any conversation expressing the possibility that the legendary Wonderfalk and Arctic Fox would reunite once again in Finland, would bring all other discussions to an abrupt and reverential halt.

 

John Taylor worked feverishly to arrange the technical support needed to provide any hope for Mihkel’s plan to succeed. Using his authority and some financial incentives he established Viktor as an approved source of technical support for Eesti Energia. This allowed the young Estonian access to the portable generators, welding equipment, space heaters and gasoline that had proved so helpful at the warehouse. Viktor would also have access to the motor pool as well as benefiting from the latest Nokia Cityman 450 mobile phone that would allow him to connect with John in Finland. The motor pool access and mobile phone addressed critical needs for transportation and communication necessary for Mihkel’s idea to have any chance of success. December 18^th saw John join Valentina in Helsinki. In that pivotal two-day period Viktor played the web of the Oja family underground like a virtuoso violinist. In that brief period he had arranged what he and Mihkel believed to be an ideal site in Harju County to relocate the Royale. In searching for a new work space Viktor had located an abandoned brick kiln very appealing on numerous counts especially its remoteness and proximity to the Gulf of Finland from where Mihkel would launch his escape. Its roomy interior and still functional fireplaces would provide an acceptable space to prep and stage the Bugatti for its planned midnight run to Finland and freedom.

Estonia’s northern coast bordering the Gulf of Finland provided the closest proximity to Finland, roughly 50 miles. The area had brick factories as its main employer. Poverty gripped a large part of the population. The state of the local economy would see the presence of Mihkel’s “Great Escape” effort provide a selective and desperately needed infusion of money into the hands of those that needed it most. Needless to say, the local community proved to be resoundingly supportive of and stonily silent about, whatever that very generous Viktor and his friends do in that old abandoned brick kiln.

 

In the setting sun of the crumbling Soviet empire young conscripts yanked from distant homelands proved equally open to cash incentives. In this case, the 18 to 20-year old soldiers responsible for raking the beaches to show any footsteps approaching the water, would, now, rake over any tire tracks when directed to do so.

 

Snow crunched under the tank treads of a trusty old Thiokol 601 Snow Cat as it left the Eesti Energia motor pool. Pulling an empty flatbed trailer, it moved quickly along the lonely country roads in a jerky sort of way. Its destination, the Oja farm. Reaching the farm it circled in the open yard kicking up a cloud of snow driven by a bitter wind. Jack opened the doors as Viktor deftly backed the trailer into the barn. The two together with Mihkel worked quickly. The Royale yielded its ground with surprisingly little resistance as the Snow Cat winched it on to the trailer. Fighting the cold and wind, the three men affixed and anchored a large tarp about the Bugatti’s sculpted contours. It transformed the beautiful beast into a shapeless cargo not worthy of a second look. With a burly groan accompanied by the rattle of trailer safety chains the big cat departed the garage: now towing a treasure. Before leaving, all three men did their best to remove signs of activity. They dropped hay and dragged rakes. They did their best to leave no trace. Mihkel, then, closed the barn doors and set the lock. Without looking back, the three men tossed suitcases into the Snow Cat, climbed in and left. While not yet under its own power, the big Royale had none the less begun its uncertain and irreversible journey to Finland and freedom.

 

December 20^th found Petrov having dinner with an old friend and senior navy officer in a command position with the Soviet Baltic Fleet. Petrov’s friend over many vodkas described the tedium of his responsibilities overseeing a fleet of old ice breakers. He bemoaned how a man of his skills and capabilities belonged in command of a Soviet warship. He resented his relegation to managing “old tubs that the Russian navy probably commissioned when Lenin was alive.” He viewed his situation as wrongful punishment for having taken advantage of opportunities that higher ups freely enjoyed. He explained his maltreatment saying, “Some greedy Stalin types did not like him drinking from their trough.” He dreamed of the opportunity to do something dramatic that would elevate his stature. “That,” he said, “Would force Moscow to reward him with an assignment suitable for a man of his abilities.” Petrov feigned sympathy for his drinking buddy’s situation though saw little hope for its improvement. That said, his friend from the old days could hold his liquor, enjoyed reliving stories and Petrov trusted him. In the Soviet hierarchy it is always important to nurture good friendships. One never knows when they will have value.

While Petrov rejected any Christian beliefs, a prerequisite for membership in the Communist Party, each winter holiday time (Christmas and New Years) he would return to his native Ukraine to enjoy holiday festivities and parties. He would do the same this year. He reasoned that in this frozen Estonian lock-down, no one would be doing anything, much less smuggling a Bugatti.

ESTONIA 1987

Everyone dearly missed their loved ones as they labored on the Royale bathed in the shadowy light that filled the abandoned Brick Kiln. Despite its age and decrepitude, its open wood burning fire places shielded them from the worst of the Hellish Estonian winter. For the first two weeks of the new year temperatures never rose above 0°F. Working through the forbidden Christmas holidays of communist Estonian, they entertained each other by signing joyous Christmas carols and songs. Brenda Lee’s “Rockin’ around the Christmas tree” and the WWII classic “I’ll be home for Christmas” being two favorites. Viktor took special delight in learning the American songs. The fact that he had a great singing voice brought good cheer to all as they labored, and labor they did.

As skilled automotive troubleshooters they consistently marveled at the quality of the workmanship evident in the Royale. Chosen by fate to resurrect this pinnacle example of 20^th century Olympian automobiles each man worked in awe of its technical and aesthetic genius. It provided the team with a uniquely rugged mechanical jewel that their considerable technical skills could polish into a functioning automobile despite its near half century left in a barn. Working in their favor this last Royale had originally been designed and prepped to function optimally in a punishing long distance race through a harsh northern winter.

On January 7^th, Mihkel sat behind the wheel of the beautiful beast pulled out the choke and cranked the powerful starter motor. Much like a young child new to the challenge of walking, first attempts faltered. However, with technically astute Jack (Mihkel called Jack the car-whisperer) adjusting, tweaking and massaging the great 12.7 liter, 8-cylinder, the Royale roared to life. Exhibiting a truly human expression of achieving instantaneous freedom from unrelieved stress and a profound team accomplishment the three, to a man, cried as they cheered. Serenaded by the basso profundo exhaust note of the big V8, the men affixed snow chains to each tire for greater traction. The 52 gallon (200-liter) gas tank would hopefully feed the beast for long enough to reach Finland. They estimated 6 miles per gallon at best and 1.5 miles per gallon under full acceleration.

The morning of January 8^th welcomed the team with a -20°F slap in the face. Mihkel putting a good spin on the God-awful cold noted that the long spell of frigid weather ensured that the ice would be thick enough to support the Bugatti. He added that it could also kill them if not given due respect by dressing properly. Today, on this dark morning, they would transport the Bugatti to the small quiet town of Neeme by the Gulf coast. Victor had arranged for a warehouse where the Bugatti would be unloaded and fine tuned in preparation for the Great Escape on the 10th. On that day handsomely bribed young Soviet soldiers would be looking the other way when that time came.

Viktor backed the Snow Cat up to the abandoned vine wrapped brick kiln. With the doors open the Arctic wind caused the warming fires inside the kiln to dance within their brick enclosures. The men heavily bundled in white parkas struggled to wrap the Bugatti as before. This time the wind had other ideas and swept away the heavy tarp leaving it pinned to the top of a large nearby pine tree. Mihkel made the call, “Never mind, let’s go.” With the temperature so cold and the area so isolated, Mihkel’s hopes rested on the belief that no one would see the Bugatti on this dark morning. Even if they did, Mihkel and the Bugatti would soon be gone. He chuckled a fatalistic half laugh to himself thinking, “Guaranteed we will be gone, one way or the other.” The Snow Cat’s tracks dug into the snow covered ground. Again with a groan and the clanking of trailer chains the Royale moved yet closer to Finland and Freedom.

 

Through the holiday season Petrov had been unable and, admittedly, unwilling to free his mind from thoughts of the Super Auto that he believed waited just beyond his grasp. On January 5^th he had returned to Tallinn to continue his search. There he had reached out to the local communist authorities asking for any information that might relate to a “missing” special classic automobile. He explained it had been stolen from a politburo member and the KGB believed it might be in Estonia. He emphasized that the details of this matter should be kept confidential. He made a point of noting that any assistance would be greatly appreciated and rewarded.

 

Much to Mihkel’s mistaken relief, he believed that no one had seen them on the road that dark morning of the 8th. Even better, a winter mist had further obscured the Bugatti. None the less, everyone involved felt great relief upon seeing the Bugatti unloaded and sequestered in the warehouse at the small village of Neeme. Over the next day, Jack would conduct a final and detailed inspection which would conclude with firing up the beautiful beast to confirm all would be ready tomorrow, the 10^th. Viktor pulled the Snow Cat into the woods and unhooked the trailer.

 

Around noon on January 9^th Petrov’s phone rang. The caller, an Estonian communist party official had heard from a local Russian informant of a big fancy car being seen the day before on a trailer in Harju County.

 

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