But for security reasons, the Supreme Command always claims that I am the only source of information. Of course, they tell everyone involved in the production of complex pictures and only tell them themselves, because nothing can be confirmed by a quantitative second party. .
It's a miracle that the Soviet soldiers didn't kill us by mistake. Thankfully, we wore similar uniforms, but in such a mixed environment, who would carefully observe what others were wearing. The difference between German and Russian uniforms is obvious. We also try not to make ourselves look like. Only with a security document can we be caught or killed and who is the real Allied spy.
Of course, if the Germans catch us, they will not find the document. On the other hand, they will torture us to death or until we collapse. If Russia catches us, we show the document, and then directly hope that they can understand. Actually praying. This is because most Russian soldiers cannot bear to listen to the opinions of others after witnessing the destruction of their cities and countries.
The Supreme Command informed Moscow that we were in Stalingrad. The three of us were just for reconnaissance to determine how the Allied materials could be best used to further assist the Russians. Moscow said that if they were caught, they would be executed for espionage. The Supreme Command notified them that they had contacted Moscow, and if there was a problem, they would issue a document stating that we were with the Allied forces and that they would treat us accordingly and give us benefits.
Although our Russian is very good, it will not pass if we are interrogated. We know to avoid all patrols and unnecessary contact with the general public. Our uniforms match those from Ukraine, so if needed, we can say that we are from this region and also explain our accent. Although the order from the Supreme Command is simple, monitoring and reporting every day, we know that there are more tasks than notifications, why are they telling Moscow that we are here? This not only informed the Russians of our activities, but also endangered us. Under normal circumstances, we have a 50% chance of surviving within the three weeks of being ordered to stay in this city, and this is the Supreme Commander. The Ministry calculated that Russia could be controlled before the collapse, and the three of us could escape to our designated collection point and take it back to London.
From the beginning, this task was for the Supreme Command to instruct us that if the Russians detained our files as a mockery, the files would be hidden in the soles of our boots! We are rehearsing how to first ask the soldiers who are holding us to wait for us to take off our boots, because the contents of the boots can explain everything; of course, "goodwill" means that we are wearing Ukrainian uniforms running around Stalingrad... ... without weapons.
We had to leave all our ID documents in London, and then drop them by air to a distance of 20 kilometers from the city, where we had to go to the city center by any means, and then send encrypted messages to the highest command.
But the Russians did not abandon their counterattack since November. We landed in the central part. Now both armies have expanded to more than 1 million soldiers fighting close quarters in the city.
Our airdrop coincided with the signal intercepted by the German radio transmission of a Russian rescue convoy trying to break through from the north.
Why did we not receive news from Moscow itself about such a team? We are allies after all. In other words, in the process of reporting to the Supreme Command, the plans and tactics we are designing are only part of a larger strategy. Of course, the rescue convoy will be led away by the Germans when another smaller convoy enters. There is not so much food and water, but weapons and ammunition. The demand for these weapons and ammunition seems to be greater than a piece of stale bread or a rotten potato. And any message that we miraculously communicated to London in some way would in turn be considered to be of any value, see what we might tell them... everything becomes hell, maybe a little There are no clues, because this is what is happening, we all know, so why hell sent us.
Show your confidence. The response of the Supreme Command. Tell Washington and Moscow... London is with you.
We should have told them at the time that any soldier, any army, would shoot us because we were so foolishly involved in such a mission.
What flashed through my mind was how to get rid of all this. The flash will burn the brain. Some of the things we learned burned deeper, while other less important information just burned out. At that moment, when the ashes fell, we realized that there were indeed some more important things in danger. Three of us Agents were told.
When we were locked in a simple room, two armed American military police stood outside the door because the Americans had not yet participated in the war.
Looking through the glass door, nothing moved on the street. On the hood of a car parked on the side of the road, I have seen the blazing sun flickering, which made me wonder, why no cars pass through after entering the reception desk? Roadblock? Is all this expected? What about the last gunfight on the street? Just before we boarded, the situation at the airport was the same. sunny. But it's cold. The heat wave on the runway did not cause hallucinations, but everything looked the same. These two completely different situations were the same after many years.
Crazy control of me. Must have. In such a small room, Mr. Browning has a headache and tinnitus. Tired, hungry, thirsty, fucking can’t remember when the last time I drank water, it must be before going to bed last night, because there was no water in the car from Los Angeles, of course, there was only the small cup From the time of the accident to the present, there is no way to accurately tell me that my watch broke about...45 minutes ago? When is the water? The temperature here...
Focus. It's almost ten o'clock. It has been eleven hours since the last time I drank water. I'm sure...? At this temperature, a rapid lack of food can lead to dehydration, and only a small sandwich can quickly cause cramps and chills. When the body starts to use any stored nutrients to maintain function, the muscles and head will have deeper pain . Slowly make some mistakes that would never happen. A major mistake that might kill me. What if there is no need to kill
Is it reasonable for these four people to die in less than two minutes? Is there any other way I can disarm them... God, who am I talking to? Of course!
I don’t have time or strength to do this. It can only prove that if I don’t leave here and come here to take a rest, there will be food and water hitting the wall. When actively participating in street investigations, especially when a small misjudgment will determine the outcome of your own death. I don't want to die in San Diego, I prefer Los Angeles in the shade of Malibu Beach. Of course not in the morgue here!
More sweating. From the pressure. Although they say this city is always cooler than Los Angeles, it doesn't look like that now. It may be that the building is heating up. It's almost afternoon. The reason why no one is walking around. It's not a looting, on the contrary, people are just eating lunch.
Beside the glass windows, the concrete wall serves as a cover. Looking out, there must be no soul. Nor is it a car. However, when I arrived, many people honked their horns, in fact when the taxi stopped in front of the same metal door to get me off.
Metal doors... but no metal doors. This is the point! California law requires that medical inspection facilities have metal doors. Here, they are metal. But now... glass.
I quickly turned around, and the two dead men were lying where they fell, wanting to make them stand up, tell me in a clear and loud voice, everyone raised a fist to the ceiling in unison, and said together, yes . Yes Talber, you are right
But of course they did not move. Sweat rolled in, burning his eyes even more. It's just a bit tingling. Lax control of Browning. It suddenly became cold. At this temperature? Giggled frantically. It could also be the sound of the two dead bastards. Yes. certainly. Jesus, there is a smile on each of them. From ear to ear. Same as those two Gestapo interrogators who would not tell me anything. It took more than three hours to peel off the skin of their tied arms and legs. They won’t tell me what I want to know, important information about the entire mission, when asked what they did to countless prisoners, why they tortured anything and everything, the answer before their heads blossomed, in the same damn. Smile in. The smiles of these two guys are exactly the same!
But one shot hit him directly in the face, another shot hit the back of his head, blowing up his front face, so how could they be smiling, because no mouth is ridiculous.
Christ controls yourself. What's wrong with you? Why is your arm bleeding? Look... Your left arm is bleeding. Look down, damn it!
My eyes moved away from the corpses, followed by a line of blood-spattered colorful tiles, and the glass door that stopped at my feet—the widow’s stone wall—has collapsed now, and at the same moment, the one at the door earlier The action attracted my attention, but before I returned there, I dragged it out of the crimson pool on my left clothes and on my left arm. I have seen it a hundred times before other people. Now, it means that they finally continue their journey to meet someone who is wearing a pair of perfectly tailored pure white glasses and a pair of cold blue eyes gleaming behind the gold-rimmed glasses.
Of course, he is behind all this. San Diego or Los Angeles, what does it matter? (To be continued) (End of this chapter)