The submachine gun felt huge in my hand, and I could hardly lift it up, pointing to the direction of the downed animal. Its white eyes blinked and its mouth opened. The wild orange slammed into the sky, and the person it ate must be from it. Jumped out of his belly. But Inna was right, these were hallucinations, and the adrenaline surge made the hallucinations more vivid. At the same time, it gave my body a huge shock.
I almost fainted and died of a wound on my arm. Before meeting Romintov, he lost his arteries due to excessive force and fighting and increased blood flow. However, the bandage slowed the flow of blood. However, four to five pints have been lost, and there was no large amount of food for two days. Now the right chest was hit by a large-caliber bullet, which is very likely to cause the lungs to congestion and collapse. In addition, the shoulder blades are crushed and the ribs are broken. Or fractures, internal bleeding, which is not the worst, because in this case you can’t see what the map points to.
My coordinates are not the same as Romintov and Inna they knew. But all I told them on the plane were lies. Based on the calculated difference, they will walk 00 yards east instead of north. Just before Romintov transferred the staff's car, Ina heard the news in a low voice, and the firefight began.
No matter what he found, it was only fifty yards away. He knew that Romintov would take this specific route to leave the Gulag. This is the only route, the only option, to travel north, and calculate our time and speed. , Telling him to turn, he himself knew that this would be our last stop and could not get rid of Birus.
If Romintov knew that we were so close, he would probably trot into the forest by himself, but realized that I had a weapon to stop Bairus' vehicle. So he needs me to take action, which is of course inevitable, and he knows that sharpshooter is qualified. After all, he ordered Jǐngwei to follow Inna, giving him a submachine gun and extra ammunition barrels. Although Gulag’s standard configuration Jǐngwei often carried them, for safety reasons, they never brought extra drums if they were subdued by criminals. Here, however, the man has a four-plus-one weapon with more than three hundred and fifty-five bullets, bread and vodka as payment, and an order, "Just look at the woman".
"What's in the forest?" I asked myself. Gold, uranium. What is the value of what the three of us sent? An American and two Soviets working together? Especially these two. Or are we framed
Do Romintov and Inna know what Moscow doesn't want them to know? Both of them have top secret authority, they are both reconnaissance experts, and I work for a signal company. Logically, people don’t expect to have any money; it’s too difficult to transport another map to another place. It may even be another clue later, until all the clues complete a further mystery together, we will understand it ourselves, but once we breathe back to the Supreme Command and Moscow, we can’t. Our secret is our own protection, because they don't know this fact, both of them intend to let us live.
About the war of what the Eastern and Western powers need us to do? In the last few months before Germany's surrender, the air at the Supreme Command suddenly changed overnight. Changing the pattern of espionage through technology, replacing outdated methods that have proven valuable, investigating truthfully, but still time-consuming and unreliable, because dealing with the "human factor" always proves to be dangerous, and this new application Science has removed this danger.
The sound of the weapon disappeared. I didn't feel it before, suddenly cold paws grabbed my chest, the wound sucked in air, and my lungs collapsed. Romintov grabbed the submachine gun and fired at objects moving around the damaged car, which were now engulfed in flames. Ghosts are swimming on the roadside, criminals are fighting, they are eager to get anything from the battle, waiting hungry, ready to attack the spoils of the victor and the conquered, both of which are impossible in their nightmares Differentiated.
Inna suddenly appeared in front of me, grabbed my shoulder, shouted something, looked down in front of me, which gave her all the emotions, maybe her whole life, their arrival. Most of it was shock and anger, and was quickly taken away by grief, and the white and icy ground around us gradually became more and more red.
It was still three o'clock in the morning. There is no one. When did San Diego look at my watch again and forget when it broke. Where was the body placed? in the corridor? A minute ago...? Oh my God, it's so hot here. All these glass products make people stand for too long, which may be why people work. Work? Looking back, no one was standing at the reception as before. A beautiful woman in her twenties, blond, blue-eyed, with full-chested, was a practical state bird, and there were so many people busy behind the big table. Now there is no soul. Three o'clock in the morning. Three o'clock in the morning... Why...? There was a sudden movement. Turning to the glass wall, expecting the weapon to fire, the explosion screamed why not.
Why did it change after the accident because it almost died? Oh my God, it's getting hotter!
My temple was beaten badly.
Whose blood is that? Why are these doors not made of steel
nothing. Nothing happened. Only sweat soaked the shirt and pants. This is the only thing moved in San Diego. Oh my god, what is this place.
Too arbitrary. You are too arbitrary. relax. the weather is too hot.
Pay attention, left, right, up, down, pay attention to the damn street, squat down, you know they will come, squat down! Three o'clock in the morning. back and forth. Yes. Three o'clock. Three. Three buttons. Office hours. Good morning.
fever. Gunshot wound on upper left arm. It just didn't hit the middle artery. This is where the problem lies.
It's like... Three buttons. Why is my weapon in a holster? Why is my weapon not ready yet? What's in my pocket? Of course... the key... to... three.
To shut up. You will lose it, this is not a good place to get...
Fucked lost!!? Hahaha... I never came back... So how come I get lost!!!
You forgot to take medicine.
Button... Three... Good morning... Hahaha I'm back... Hahahaha
Wake up.
I see something. I see something...
Nothing at all...
There... right there... don't you see it? see it? Hush... they will hear... fuck down. Lie on the ground. Hurry up, they will see you.
There is nothing outside, just...
They...they...they...they...they...they...they...they...they...! Look, see... I swear I will shoot, I will... I will... I will... I will... I will...
We will lose him.
The second dose was used too quickly.
There is no choice.
brain**.
We know the result.
His reading has changed.
Call it.
Have a glass of whiskey.
You two chat separately.
let me do it.
recall.
There are stains of my blood on the floor. Pedestrians walked past large thick glass windows, covering themselves with big hats. Occasionally there is a car. The world has returned, but no doctor has prescribed the pills for those "reminders"...? When the murder attempted, he fell from my coat pocket and rolled under the seat. It might be there.
In retrospect, those people died and there was no change. At the reception, there was no one. I was the only one checking the hour, minute, and second hands of my black-faced Brova watch at the door. Their military radius appeared on a sub-dial. The "6" was completely blurred, and there was no change. Only the hour and minute hands were placed. Together, the "7" and "5" are concealed at the bottom, and the second hand is also brought by vibration and movement.
Entering almost at the same time, except for the receptionist and the two dead, the people and traffic are the same, only the narrative from the war through the etching is deeper. We all have. Anyone there came back with the same thing, and some people brought more things and handled it in any way possible. Some dreams wake up without realizing that they are so, and believing that they will never leave. These situations are even worse. They seek doctors to understand their survival in the Pacific War. I arrange a hypnosis film every night. If there are too many disturbances during the day, they may need a "quick response shock absorber", as he said. Say, now in someone’s hands, call a doctor somewhere and ask what these are, for whom, "just want a better picture," they tell the doctor, "make sure he is safe." .. ... do not hurt yourself or anyone... the general public must get a Jǐng notice."
If the public knew what people did to each other during the war, they would scream for the same medicine so that they would not want what we got from the war and become barbaric. They don’t want anything like this in their lives, because that’s something you can’t handle well every day, unless you desperately want to take back what you left there, scattered, torn apart, and lost forever. Partly, even if you can come back, it will not, because they will transform into something else, something beyond description, because there is no way for humans to have enough time to understand it before it is consumed.
Shouldn't complain. Those from the First World War rarely know what happened and why the brain refuses to admit anything after experiencing those sufferings. It just stops functioning in certain areas; commits suicide, or cuts off parts so that the whole can survive.
Anyway, people still do this, they have not even experienced the pain of fighting, can hardly open the door for themselves, selfish, once unable to satisfy their hopes, found any way, because they are often numb, and for as long as possible The narcotics itself, not because of excitement, but because of knowing that you can pass through the will of self-compassion, at that moment.
Then they came. (To be continued) (End of this chapter)