Chapter VI. past of Tomek Part II.
Captain Maciej “Rico” Kunwald pulled a long sip of coffee from a cardboard cup that a young volunteer just handed him. A soldier was sitting on humanitarian aid boxes at an improvised point for refugees on the Żarska Village block on the A4 motorway outside Zgorzelce. It was cold, and for many hours it has been raining fine rain. The captain's character stood out in the background of the shelter and in the parking lot of soldiers. His clear uniform of expeditionary troops from Afghanistan contrasted with green camouflages of the kind “Pantera”. The eyes of the laymen were besides cast into the eyes of the thick, black beard of the captain, dark glasses a la Cobra Stallone, and the cratered arafat underneath the neck. The eyes of experts noted with respect the Task Force White Eagle ISAF patch.
— But I gotta tell you, I admire you. And it's not just for wearing sunglasses in all weather... I get it, specified as Rambo, right? — Aspirant Janusz Maćkowiak laughed, who sat in front of Captain Kunwald with his cup of coffee.
Kunwald looked at a policeman from behind his glasses and in consequence only lifted with surprise the eyebrow.
— You know, pushing yourself out of retirement to volunteer for the first line, that's respect...
— What kind of respect is there? — The captain said, ‘ It would be as if I were washing a mossali now, and not getting prints on my ass from sitting on that post. ’
— Yeah, but you risked a damn thing with that freak — you couldn't be persuaded by a cop.
— I didn't hazard it, the soldier replied, I wanted to. But they didn't. Health.
— I couldn't do that. You know, not that, but fear is. That's no fucking joke. A cop took coffee out of his cup.
— The jokes are here — he waved Kunwald’s hand — a man with my experience put to control documents.
At the moment, their conversation was interrupted by a young police officer who had clearly entered the tent. He knocked his heels, saluted, and threw it out quickly:
— Captain, the hat maker is making trouble. We have him on the list to get to WKU, but he's in trouble. He wants to talk to the commander.
“See, Janusz, what kind of circus?” Captain Kunwald turned to a police officer — a professional with my expertise sends civilians to harass. aid me to get up — scope out to an aspirant.
Aspirant Maćkowiak rapidly dropped off his coffee, picked up and grabbed the captain's hand drawn towards him. Kunwald pulled up, straightened, and moved a rigid step toward the entrance to the tent.
Moments later, he was already at the parked Tesla and anxiously awaiting a gathering with the driver's office. The captain illustrated the situation with a professional eye: an costly car, 2 women, 2 children and interrupted millenniums in costly sneakers. “In fact, this is what I could have looked like if years ago alternatively of going left to the right,” he thought for a moment. He breathed, took air into his lungs, and started as polite as he could:
— Good morning, citizen! What's your problem?
— You're in charge of this circus?
— In fact, I have seen better circuses than this one, as Kunwald said, “Rico” smiling at your own memories, but let's start with 1 thing: no substance what the circus is, what is your problem? And in general, yes, I'm here to zero all the problems.
— Then explain to me, what does it mean that this officer here wants to take me in handcuffs to any military commission? I think we inactive have laws, or is there a minute erstwhile you can get individual out of the car and put them in front of the wall?
“Oh, I see a citizen acquainted with the customs of war is. All right, all right, this will come in handy. And if this constable here found on his tablet that you request to be led to the WKU, then it doesn't mean that much: you request to be led to the WKU, due to the fact that you did not want to die. Handcuffs or no cuffs depend on how rude you are.
- WKU what? What does that mean? I'm a civilian. A computer scientist for neural network programming. I've never had a firearm in my hand in my life!
Well, congratulations! seemingly your homeland has found you to be valuable resurs and has plans for you to be informed in WKU. But to find out what's going on and how, you gotta go there. And since you didn't go there alone, now my people will aid the citizen find his way. Okay?
— Nothing is clear here! I almost died in a rocket attack today! I'm going to Germany with my household and you're disturbing me! This is simply a violation... — Tomek did not finish due to the fact that Kunwald interrupted him with a firm motion of his hand:
— Constable, facts! — he briefly threw it to a police officer who reported a driver problem a fewer minutes ago.
— Tomasz Malinowski, boy of Sophia and Adam, year of birth 1989, inhabited...
“Come on, come on, Constable, war will not wait,” urged Captain Kunwald, waving his hand.
— ... he was to appear at the Military Recruitment Centre, 50-984 Wrocław, ul. Gajowicka 118, on 30 October 2024, g. 10:00, p. 3 for the intent of registration and further regulations, which he was decently notified with a letter of return confirming the receipt he did not take until 17 November 2024, and therefore, in connection with the fiction of the service, he became automatically wanted for the intent of bringing and revealed today...
- Okay, stand down Constable! — The captain next said to Tomek:
— So, citizen of computer science, have you been informed by a constable? To make a citizen appear, not to be wanted. Oh, yeah, we halt and we drive. Okay?
— But what right do you have? I am a free man and I pay taxes! There's an army in the war, not me!
— Citizen... — Captain's voice hardened. Kunwald took off his glasses, took a step closer to Tomek, stood in front of him like a boxer during the presentation before the weighing procedure and measured him from the tallness of his nearly 90 centimetres tall with a cold look.
— Citizen, he resumed, weighing all word of the captain — I besides pay taxes. And I gave my country a small more than the Social safety contributions.
Having said this, Captain “Rico” Kunwald stepped back rapidly by 2 steps and pulled his pants up loosely released on advanced military boots. 2 thin metallic prostheses were sticking out of the shoes. Tomka's bricked up. The soldier left his trousers and in a cat's motion approached Tomek, leaning his face against Tomek's face. Their eyes met.
— And you know what, citizen? I'd love to trade places with you. I asked, begged, prayed to be taken to the linear unit. I wrote that I was better than the others, due to the fact that if I get those crutches again, I'm not gonna bleed to death. I'm gonna cut out the sticks new, longer, and run faster. What? Fuck! I moved heaven and earth to be accepted. And they put me on a block to babysit decapits like you!...
The soldier went silent for a while, and Tom didn't know where to look.
— So don't fuck with me, citizen, about taxes, just think about what you've truly done for the country? due to the fact that you've had half your life to think about it, but erstwhile you look at you, you seem to have learned from your ass... Taxes! Have you always wondered where your shitty taxes are going? Have you met your associate for once? Have you always been to a council gathering or a settlement? It's all a soft fuck to you due to the fact that your lives are korpo, debt and vacation in warm countries. And erstwhile it comes down to it, you push your household into this American-Chinese crap for a 100 and 50 grand and fuck off where your eyes will be. Have you always been curious about how much money you paid for that Tesla went to America and China? Did you buy it like a private individual or did it cost the company? — The soldier again silent, loudly pulling the air through his nose.
— But you came to my watch, citizen, Kunwald continued — and my watch places matters in place. Therefore, either you go politely to the another side of the road with a constable and you get on the first bus with volunteers who come back from Germany and go to Wroclaw, or you go in bracelets under the convoy to the same place, adding us a pile of paperwork and fucking 50 liters of fuel at the whistle. So, what's it gonna be? Well, what are you glaring at me for, like, the most sacred lady?
At this point, Captain Kunwald's gaze came upon the large, frightened eyes of the girl, watching the scene from the back seat of the Tesla. And the soldier got stupid in the world. So foolish that he rejoiced in the spirit that a thick beard hid him red with shame as in the cheekpiece.
— But since I am now on a regular break, the captain added, putting my glasses back on and taking a fewer steps towards the parked tesla, I invitation everyone for coffee. I think it would be easier for us to clear things up under these circumstances. Ladies, would you like a black coffee or a white coffee? “ The soldier turned to Tomek’s wife and sister - in - law, leaning on the tesla door, and the young ladies could number on hot chocolate and candy,” smiled at the twins sitting stiffly in the back seat.
— Can we take cats?
The Captain felt that the situation was beginning to slip out of control:
“What kind of cats?” he asked.
— Aunt Gosi... Out of the trunk... they don't like it there very much and they cried...” the girl replied.
— But now they're quiet due to the fact that they're afraid you'll take them to prison,” she added.
Shortly thereafter, a unusual procession followed the volunteers to the tent. Captain Kunwald was leading him, carrying twins on his hands, so that they wouldn't soak their shoes in broad puddles. 2 women followed him, each carrying a cage with a cat. The walk was closing Tom, holding the container with the 3rd cat.
— And will you defend us erstwhile your father is taken by the police?
— No 1 will take your father distant from you...—insecurely Captain Kunwald began.
— But you will defend us? due to the fact that Dad is even afraid of syringes,” she added.
— Your dad's a brave man. He will now build rockets and planes to defend you, the captain began. After a while he added quieter:
- And I'll defend you, too, I promise.
The girls hugged the soldier by the neck more, and for the first time in his life he felt that the glasses weren't just helping him make a tough guy. Today, mirror glasses a la Cobra Stalone hid their eyes wet from tears erstwhile Captain Maciej “Rico” Kunwald, fearless commando-saper and veteran of 3 changes in Afghanistan, bent to enter the volunteer tent. “In fact, this blockpost may not be specified a shitty assignment,” the captain thought, putting the twins carefully on the ground.
Chapter VII. Anna's History, Part II
When she got home, Anna couldn't find her own place. Adrenaline associated with the events she experienced never wanted to leave. Not even the schnapps he put before her with concern, Stefan. The female was constantly shivering. It was cold, it was hot.
The phones were not working, there was no Internet, the radio was constantly repeating government attack messages from the Russian Federation and the locations where the rocket attacks were carried out. There wasn't just a agenda on TV. There was an uninterrupted marathon of news, in which fresh images – professional and amateur – appeared, depicting passing rockets and aircraft and closer and further explosions. From time to time, live reporters entered, showing crowds at railway stations and endless string of cars on trafficked “dead” roads.
— Stefan, turn off the fucking TV, Anna shouted out, out of control.
— But there may be something... — Stephen shyly protested.
— Shit! We know everything. War is. And you'd do something.
Stefan obediently turned off the tv and disappeared behind the kitchen door. After a fewer minutes, he returned, carrying a weapon and side-type shotgun hanging through his arms. In his hands, he held boxes of bullets, bandolet, and weapon cleaners. Anna looked at him in amazement:
- Stefan, what are you doing?
— Well, you told me what I would do. Here we go. I want a gun. War is.
— You're not reasoning about shooting Russians out of the household hut, are you?
— Stefan thought about shooting, not shooting, but not giving distant free skin. That's for sure.
Stefan! And the children? — Annie’s voice broke.
— God gave the children. God will remember children. And I know these motherfuckers. With my bare hands, I will not greet them. That's for sure. You can shoot too.
Anna looked into her husband with silence. She never met her Stefan. A good, warm Stefan, who, even as the chicken's head turned, closed his eyes and turned his head. She was sat in front of her a gloomy, upstanding man with a natural face and tight mouth. He was able to pull the weapon apart. She looked at his hands. Big, hard-working hands, most likely operating with guns. They weren't shaking. There was no hesitation from them. They were stubborn. Many centuries old, inherited from generation to generation, peasant stubbornness. And any strength. A force that, after a while, gave in to Annie, flooding her with a wave of peace. What should be, will be, but she wasn't afraid anymore. She will not tremble with fear of the Russian soldier, calling the private a “captain”. It's time they got scared.
Without a word, she raised a shotgun from the table, broke it, and looked under the light in shiny barrels. She put the weapon on the table, took the bandole and started putting charges into it. Alternately: Breneka, buckshot, Breneka, buckshot. Then she got up and put the remainder of the ammunition in various places – under windows, in kitchen cabinets, by shoes in the hall. And all room. Even in the bathroom. Stefan followed her with his eyes. “With specified a woman, that and death is not terrible,” he thought, “as I love her... I think it is crucial to tell her...”. He breathed due to the fact that he wasn't a romantic.
It took Annie and her husband a long time to clean weapons and deploy ammunition in different places of the home and bypass (it was better to have a supply of ammunition at different fire points than to keep the full ammunition warehouse with each other.) Stefan is an orderly man, so he kept his humble hunting arsenal always ready to use. After preparing the weapon, it was 9 a.m. There were no more noises from the manor – neither the distant noises of gunshots, nor the sound of airplanes, nor even cars passing through the village. The silence was full of tension, occasionally interrupted by crowing cocks and barking dogs. Annie seemed to think dogs bark differently than usual. She explained that it was just an illusion, but she felt that the longer that peace lasted, the more she lost her mind. She must have taken any action. Sitting in anticipation of what was not known was worse than going into a frontal attack on tanks with petrol bottles.
“Battles of gasoline” — passed Annie through her head. Good old Molotov cocktails. She recalled how long ago tv showed scenes from the Ukrainian Revolution of Dignity. The revolved crowd threw a transporter trying to breach the barricade with a cocktail lighter and the vehicle immediately burst into a sea of flames. “It would be good to have something like this around”, she thought and shared it with Stefan.
— But how do we do it? — Stefan thought loudly.
— What do you mean, like? — bottle, petrol, rag — Anna did not think long.
— No, no — he twisted Stefan’s head — it’s not that simple. It's a peculiar blend. Gasoline's besides rare, it'll go down.
“They didn’t teach us that at school either,” Anna thought. “I remember that the insurgents in Warsaw utilized this weapon, but no 1 always told me how to do it...”. “Maybe that’s better,” she thought in a moment, imagining her sons experimenting after lessons with Molotov cocktails. “And possibly that's wrong,” she got angry a minute later, trying to Google the recipe for the incendiary mixture, having access to a network that fluctuates between G, E and no reception. “Maybe the school should teach any applicable things, too love for the homeland and Slovak poems?”.
After a fewer minutes of patiently watching circles spinning and stumbling about a pixel dinosaur in your browser, you managed to download the simplest text recipe: gasoline, Styrofoam and motor oil, can be used. Shortly thereafter, the full household sat in the yard and produced a terrible weapon, a bottle of homemade napalm. Simple, hand occupation calmed Anna a little. She had a feeling she wasn't in jail, she wasn't waiting for developments, but she's the mistress of her destiny again.
Anna and her household spent at least 2 hours in this way. The consequence of the work was respective boxes filled with various sizes of bottles, of which the bunchically protruding various colors of rags. Stefan took a tiny bottle and went with the boys behind the barn to test the fresh gun. Anna's ears were shortly hit by a burst of broken glass and a suppressed explosion. In about a twelve seconds, a bunch of black smoke came up from above the barn. Concerned, Anna ran to see if the test had exceeded expectations, but erstwhile it arrived, Stefan had already finished plunging sand into respective of the deserts that served as a target. From below the sand, the tongues of fire were breaking out into the air, releasing black smoke into the sky.
“ Honey, it farted erstwhile you looked! ” Sfetan spoke joyfully.
“ Stefan, the children listen, ” Anna admonished him.
- Mom, Mom! Did you see that? — they shouted 1 through another, the boys who were attracted to him.
— I saw, I saw, Anna bloomed. - Now, everybody go home. Stefan, put those bottles away. They better not be conspicuous to anyone who comes into the yard.
The power went out around noon. Stefan had a generator, but he and Anna concluded that it was not time to turn it on yet. The refrigerators will last a fewer hours, and there's no request to usage the iron fuel supply and make unnecessary noise.
Anna couldn't sit there. She decided to walk around the village and talk to people. Better than inactivity.
However, a walk in the village did not bring relief to her controlled nerves. Almost all neighbour we met had any terrible news he needed to share. individual said that in Włodawa “ruskie” shot at random passersby, passing through the city. Who else shared the communicative about how Polish soldiers escaped from the makeshift barricade before Adampol. I hear there's only 1 young guy left with the vending device he kept the Russian column until he ran out of ammo. Then he surrendered, and “ruskie” shot him on the spot.
The magic of amazing stories overflowed the communicative heard under the firehouse. The old Józefów told how she saw black smoke rising above the homestead of Krajewski. “It is to be, of the tanks they beat after them,” she convinced Josephov with enthusiasm. It's just the sight of Anna that beats her up a small bit. Having a head full of uncreated stories and unconfirmed rumors, Anna did not even effort to explain to Josephova what was caused by the black smoke the old woman saw above her house. She took a moment, realized that no 1 knew anything for certain and headed home.
As she was walking home, reasoning about what she heard from people, a muffled sound came to her ears. It's like a distant sound of a flying jet. At first, this distant sound did not penetrate Anna’s consciousness, absorbed in her thoughts. However, the sound continued, and even with all minute it grew. Anna stopped listening. “What could it be? The plane?” she thought — “e, no... The plane would have flown and gone silent. And that's sound and noise." Involuntaryly, she accelerated her step and shortly entered the household yard. Stefan was standing at the door of the home listening.
- Stefan, what is this? “ Anna asked with a slight anxiety.
— I don’t know, he admitted with disconcerting honesty — but nothing good. Hide the children in the basement, lock yourself in the home and have the shotgun at your fingertips. I will sit in the attic, turning towards the kitchen, and after a while he appeared again at the door, holding a hunting weapon in his hand.
— Stefan... — Anna’s eyes showed a clear fear — just don’t do anything stupid.
— Don't worry. I will not shoot first — a man came close to his wife and looked her in the eye — I love you, Anusya. God knows. I love you as much as I love you on your wedding day.
Anna didn't know what to say. Her husband wasn't 1 of the large mouths. The heat wave flooded her from head to toe. “My Stefan,” she thought with dissection, inactive not uncovering the right words to answer him. Her husband did it. He recovered from sentimentalism and rapidly threw it to his wife:
— Now, get to the cabin, get the kids in the yard and watch the windows.
The sound from the forest began to turn into an irritating whistle.
A fewer moments later, Stefan took a seat in his impromptu position in the attic. A tiny vent gave him an insight into the direction of Lipówka. His neighbors' houses were a small obscured, but he saw passages of the road and a distant forest closing the horizon. It was about a mile to the first trees. 2 tiny glacial lights entering the attic allowed you to look around what was happening on the way out front. Stefan moved any tiles at each of them, making tiny firing holes. He hoped that the cracks in the roof would be little conspicuous than the open glass windows.
On the another side of the attic, the second vent opened a view of the road towards the intersection and firehouse. The houses lined up behind each another were severely limiting the field of sight. With the beginning leading to the forest and the frosting, Stefan arranged the cement bags remaining from the renovation, wanting any ballistic protection. The bullet from the BMP cannon won't halt it, but the presence of this fortification definitely calmed the man.
The unheated attic was cold. Stefan, however, looked through the beginning from the forest, felt that he was about to start sweating like at the harvest. The strange, one-standing wind from the forest grew stronger all second. The neighbouring home obscured the view of the road coming out of the forest. It was increasingly apparent that something was coming from that side.
By the time the whistling grew almost to the level of the jet boom, Stefan spotted a tank coming out of the neighbor's home on the road. The man's pupils expanded rapidly and he was flooded by a wave of cold. He heard his own heartbeat. It was raining like a sledgehammer. He instinctively squeezed the gun, watching through a telescope rolling with the beast's whistling. There were respective soldiers on the armor.
The tank slow moved in front of Stefan's viewfinder. On a characteristic tower covered with cubes of reactive armor, the letter “Z” was painted with white paint. Behind the tank in the narrow field of sight of the telescope was the BMP. There was besides a landing organization on his armor. Stefan looked outside the scope. 2 vehicles shortly disappeared covered by roadside bushes and walls of neighbouring buildings. Apart from the penetrating gas rush of the turbine, Stefan has now heard caterpillar beetles.
The man was still. The vibrations of the building caused by the 2 vehicles in advancement allowed him to evidence the full body of the road that they traveled beyond his sight. In the narrow gap in which he saw them, no more units appeared. “Rekonesans”, Stefan thought. “A strange, but reconnaissance”. “In a moment,” he thought. “Three tankers, on tank five. How many are in the BMP? 8 more on the armor. That's almost 20 guys together. 2 teams. And this tank... damn it!” — thoughts flew through Stefan’s head like lightning in the black sky. erstwhile he heard that the vehicles were almost equal to his home, he changed position. He fell into 1 of the lugars and looked on the road outside the hut.
The tank was just passing through their gate. Stefan carefully placed the weapon barrel in the place after the tile was removed. He took a shot position and looked through the telescope. The tank had already left the field of his sight, and alternatively the BMP appeared. Stefan targeted a soldier sitting on his armor, who had the highest weights on his shoulders among respective members of the landing. He saw his focused face. He set the cross of the sight in the mediate of his face. He knew he couldn't miss from that distance. He was not more than 40 metres distant from a soldier.
Seconds are slow. BMP slow moved through Stefan's field of fire, a mark soldier standing inactive on armor. Stefan's finger continued in a akin motionless position on the weapon fuse. abruptly the vehicle stopped. The barrel tower started turning towards Stefan and Anna's house. The man held his breath.
What do you think at a time like this? It's truly hard to say in words. You truly don't know how emotional I am right now. And that's almost 3 years after I looked into the BMP barrel pointed at the home where my full household was. Six adults and 1 child. I'll just tell you this: I thought to myself — “it's already?” — and I felt so damn sorry that my adventure called life is to end so trivially. I wasn't afraid. I was so sorry. Stupid and sorry in the final way.
Stefan wasn't afraid either. He clenched his hands on a gun. “Sit on the armor, sit on the armor, sit on the armor, motherfuckers!!” he repeated in his thoughts like a prayer. And God listened to him. The scene froze in motion. The BMP barrel stopped aimed at his house, and unknown force stopped the landing on the armor. The vehicles shut down the engines and the silence was hard to withstand.
Stefan realized he was inactive not breathing. Loudly he sucked the air into his lungs and ripped his eye out of the scope. He's got a bigger plan. There was a BMP outside his house. The soldiers from the landing were staring at something that was happening in front of them on the road. Something that seemingly was the origin that stopped the reconnaissance site.
The man carefully left the position and moved to the second lucarna, which gave a better view of the tank. In front of the tank across the road stood the neighbor's autolavet. Zenek Musik was just coming out of the cabin. The way he did it clearly indicated that he was not completely sober. He stood up against the door and shouted at his throat:
— Here is Poland, motherfuckers! - Get the fuck out!
Drunk Zenek approached the tank on soft legs. He leaned heavy against his armor and punched him respective times with his fist, improving with a kick:
Did they hear?! Get the fuck out of here! I won't let you! Over my dead body!
The grotesque minute was prolonged. The drunken Zenek led his eyes after the confiscated faces of the soldiers of the landing, and they flaunted him. Regardless of whether they knew the popular Polish curses, they had to know what the lonely man who blocked their way with an autolavette and their own breast.
— Well, what are they deaf, dog sons?! Get the fuck out of Rosiji’s motherfucker — Zenek improved his transmission with another sulfurous kick aimed at the frontal armor of the tank.
Two things happened at the same time. The hatch on the tank tower and the gate in front of Stefan's home opened. From the hatch, an officer beat himself, fell out of the gate like Anna's fury. Stefan stopped breathing again.
All eyes turned to Anna, who entered the stage, leaning against the sides.
— Nu, szto? — she turned out — a Polish mate not after? Valit’ na-huj otsjuda!
“ Grazhdan,” said tank commander Ne uslazhniajte sitaciji. We pictures’ provodim peculiar operation. Ne vojujem s vami! Iditije domij and dress the device with the dominoes.
From the houses on the another side of the road, neighbors came out and approached the tank. individual took out the telephone and started filming the incident.
— Grazhdan, ne zastavlajtie us primimate’ force... — The tank commander was clearly weak from the polemic side.
— What the fuck's he doing? Zenek asked Anna.
— That they would shoot if we did not give way, and Anna answered out loud to let everyone hear it.
- Oh, fuck! They scared... — Zenek was upset — Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! — he leaned his hands against the front of the tank and kicked rhythmically into his forehead, emphasizing all syllable of the curse.
There's a fewer people behind him. And a couple of calls saved the full situation. Annie's head flashed:
— Commander, behind the djerevnia of Polish specnaz prepared the settlement. Projedete - propadete. There the rota boyciv with javelins — made Anna up like a note.
“ Otkada nanetje?” rapidly answered the commander.
— Utrom ja probovala navjedit’ roditjelej v Żukovie. Paliki did not propusali, got free of the settlement, replaced jehat’ on Adampol. I was there on the vash blockpost vjehala — Anna answered even faster.
— Bljat’, spelled the commander and slipped off the tank tower. He jumped to the ground and approached Anna. He took out a paper map.
— Pakazhytje, gdje totshno. Kazhetje rota? — he made a map so that only the surroundings could be seen. Zahajek looked into Anna's face.
— Zdjes’, pointed to Anna’s finger — and the pictures’ and the pictures’ zorvane bridge, she added insecurely, not knowing whether it was right that she was betraying military secrets. But she had a silent hope that adding any facts would convince the Russian of the fact of her words.
The soldier followed Anna's finger closely. He looked at the map, then looked at the road ahead. He thought of a longer time. He took a short pencil out of his pocket and bit something on the map, marking Anna's line of woods.
— Spasiba, grazhdanko — turned to Anna — well, if vy navrali, we jeshtsho povjerniemsja — threatened to finger — And the soy — pointed to the drunk Zenk — an orderhytje, shto vodit’ after vzhyvanju girdles for zdorovja. V avariju mozhna patych’.
The commander entered the tank, waved towards the BMP.
Rozvratshyvajemsja. Pershen rose!
The soldier slid into the hatch, the engine of the tank sounded, glistening terribly, but not smoking at all. Anna pulled off a drunk Zenk who was inactive ready to fight a tank with his bare fists.
- Zenek, enough, we won. They turn around — she whispered quietly, due to the fact that abruptly her voice failed her.
Zenek looked at Anna with a dark eye:
- They're turning around? Russia...? Neighbour, I request a drink — a drunker supported Annie hard and allowed him to decision toward his home.
The tank and BMP turned around, damaging the cracked asphalt anyway. A minute later, the 2 vehicles left at erstwhile in the direction from which they arrived. The wind of the tank turbine T-80 was moving further and further away. After a fewer minutes, they were consumed by black forest. After another fewer minutes to the ears of inactive gathered on the road, there were 2 suppressed explosions and a distant grumbling of a short series of handguns. Before the death silence again, all the villagers Zahajek were already back in their homes, and Stefan nervously squeezed the gun, trying to place something through the vent gap on the attic facing the forest towards Lipówka. Then, a powerful explosion, like a grim vasner chord, tore the air and shook the walls of houses. After a while, a blue-and-white smoke fungus grew above the forest, which gradually subsided with black glories rising from a fire.
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Dialg Translation:
— What, she said, do you not realize Polish curses? Get the fuck out of here!
“Citizens,” said tank commander, “Don’t complicate the situation. We're moving a peculiar operation here. We're not fighting you. Go home and get the tow truck out of the way.
From the houses on the another side of the road, neighbors came out and approached the tank. individual took out the telephone and started filming the incident.
“Obviously, do not force us to usage force — the tank commander was clearly weak from the polemic side.
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— Commander, Polish commandos have ambushed the village. You go, you're gone. There a company of soldiers with javelins made Anna up like a note.
— How do you know? — The commander rapidly answered.
“I tried to visit my parents in Zhukov this morning. Poles wouldn't let go, they were setting up an ambush. They made me go to Adampol. I entered your blockpost — Anna answered even more quickly.
— Fuck! — the commander spelled and slipped off the tank tower. He jumped to the ground and approached Anna. He took out a paper map.
— Show me where exactly. You say company? — he made a map so that only the surroundings could be seen. Zahajek looked into Anna's face.
“Here,” pointed out Anna’s finger — and here and here blew bridges — she added insecurely, not knowing if it was good that she was betraying military secrets. But she had a silent hope that adding any facts would convince the Russian of the fact of her words.
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— Thank you, citizen — he turned to Anna — but if you lied, we would inactive be back here — he threatened to finger “ And to the neighbor, ” he pointed to the drunk Zenk, ” explain that driving drunk was dangerous to health. You can origin an accident.
The commander entered the tank, waved towards the BMP.
- Boys! Turn around. Reconnaissance complete!
