Valentin Kolesnikov

Eva


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a minute! – The head of the station tried to stop her exclamations, – | haven't finished

      yet!

      – Who lives there, – the military intervened, – we are now sending a bus there, please follow me

      and prepare identification cards!

      – Interesting, and who does not, what then? – the man with a backpack was indignant.

      – The local administration will figure it out on the spot, is it clear to everyone ?! The crowd

      nodded their heads in agreement. | breathed a sigh of relief as | boarded the tour bus. Half the

      cabin was filled with people in camouflage with green armbands. On the way out of the city,

      the bus stopped at a checkpoint. People with machine guns from the local self-defense entered

      the salon, checked the documents and warned that they did not know the situation in Bila

      Tserkva, so do not lose your vigilance and, if you feel any threats, return to Kiev. But there were

      none, and the bus followed on. | learned from the military that they were moving towards the

      airfield where the aviation regiment of the attack aviation regiment of SU-27 fighters was

      stationed. So | got to my destination without much difficulty. A narrow paved road led to the

      military camp and with a detachment of military men began to move from the city center,

      where the bus had brought us, along this highway. From a distance, the military began to talk

      uneasily about some kind of raid. And | suddenly noticed clouds of black smoke rising from

      behind the trees to the very clouds. When two hundred meters remained to the fence of the

      barracks of the town, suddenly one of the soldiers let out a groan and fell down dead. The

      senior officer immediately reacted with the command:

      – Get down, sniper! – and collapsed on the asphalt. | glanced at the lying officer. His body was

      pounding in death throes. The soldiers silently continued to lie on the carriageway. Something

      had to be done. | pulled my travel bag, where | had hidden a white shirt, unzipped it and took

      out my underwear, grabbed the shirt. Lying raised high above his head, waving like a white flag

      in the air. Then he stood up and looked around. From all sides we were surrounded by

      submachine gunners in full combat equipment, through the unbuttoned lapels of a camouflage

      uniform, each one could see a vest.

      – Hands up! – commanded one of the approached, – Follow me!

      From his insignia, it became clear to me that this was a Russian airborne assault reconnaissance

      company that had captured the Belo Tserkovsky Fighter Aviation Regiment. Territorial defense

      soldiers who had surrendered, after checking their documents, were locked in a disguised

      hangar, while | was brought to the commander in another hangar. A military man with the stars

      of a lieutenant colonel sat at the table and looked at me with interest. After a moment of

      silence he asked:

      – Do you have anything to explain your personality? – Curiosity flickered in his serious eyes.

      – That's right, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel! – | blurted out and put on the table the

      appointment of the military registration and enlistment office folded into four and a military ID.

      The lieutenant colonel unfolded the folded sheet, read it carefully, leafed through the entries in

      the military ID.

      – Um, you served in the aviation school for foreign students in Kant, Kyrgyzstan, under Major

      General Makarov, right?

      – Yes sir! – | blurted out, – And when he flew in with an inspection to us in Kant, he liked to fly a

      plane under my maintenance.

      – In connection with what, such an honor to you, Baran Valentin Yurievich?

      – lam an engineer by profession, a lieutenant, arrived at the base of the school with a high-

      quality stock of knowledge of aviation technology, which | received at the Ufa Aviation Institute

      named after Sergo Ordzhonikidze, so he trusted my Czech training machine L-29, and therefore

      me too.

      – What is your specialty?

      – Not the main specialty, but a military technical one, it sounds and is written like this:

      “Operation and repair of aircraft and propulsion systems”.

      – Yes, God himself ordered you to stay on extra urgent, why didn’t you stay? – the commander

      asked in a more businesslike tone.

      | realized that we were having a confidential conversation, what would it be for?

      – My mother was sick at that time and | had to take care of her, so | didn’t stay, and now it’s

      quite late for me to be fifty-five years old. – With some sadness in my voice, | said.

      – Your country, stuffed with CIA agents, and M16, is mercilessly pushed into a meat grinder,

      stuffed with weapons, though outdated, which it is not a pity to throw into the scrap, like your

      male population. These scoundrels do not feel sorry for anyone in Ukraine. We also know that

      there is a ruthless struggle between the US and Britain over this territory, especially among the

      CIA and M16, a complete deal. The struggle for the dispersion of money allocated by America

      and London for the war. We are interested in these disagreements, so | suggest you return

      home to Kyiv, how do you agree?

      – Excuse me, comrade lieutenant colonel, they will seize me as a deserter and burn me, on the

      cross! – My indignation knew no bounds.

      – Don't muddy the waters, captain, if you don't know anything, | won't give you impossible

      tasks, so listen… – And the lieutenant colonel outlined in detail what and how | have to

      rehabilitate myself before the military conscription administration. And in the end, the

      lieutenant colonel shook my hand and wished me success in my new business trip to his home.

      The same detachment commander escorted me out of the captured military town, wishing me

      good luck. | am with the same travel bag full of American rubles given to me for spending on

      the introduction of spy graters into enemy bins between the most powerful intelligence

      agencies in the world, the CIA and MI6. What | couldn't put together the fact that the FSB

      cannot give such responsible tasks to the first comer, and asked the lieutenant colonel about

      this. And | received an answer that in the current situation, when our agent was shot dead by

      an incompetent sniper, at the very moment when | approached the captured base with a

      detachment, the FSB lieutenant colonel had no