The Hot Summer Of Mariupol. Chapter 16 (part 1)
One morning, Andrey was sorting out materials on promising developments brought from the local SBU. Unfortunately, Vova Pyshny did not obtain specific data on operational investigative cases. His excuse was: “Ivanovich, well, you would have given it yourself”? Therefore Andrey was trying to simplify as much as possible the work for the Center, which would have to establish the level of threat for the Russian underground in Mariupol.
“Who the hell knows... Here is a certificate - a stable group... There are 11 identified people. The curator is a military intelligence officer from Rostov... Phone numbers are... Oh, there are even Russian ones. This means they will be able to warn them... Damn, but there are 11 people, and everyone has already been identified... Apparently, things are moving towards implementation. Exactly. Yesterday, Lizogub mentioned at a meeting that two radio counterintelligence vehicles should arrive from Dnepropetrovsk. These complexes will not be given to us for a long time. So, they will really move on them soon..."
He managed to send the information to Moscow when it was time to run to the meeting.
And there a surprise awaited everyone.
- So, comrade officers, one more question, - “Ascetic” boomed as usual after discussing working issues. – Tomorrow the National Guard ensemble is coming to us. They will perform in front of the fighters. Therefore, - he cleared his throat, - that’s why I order you to ensure the maximum turnout of fighters. Especially those who sit at checkpoints. Let them look at the culture and listen to the music. And look at the beautiful girls. Do they have pretty ones there? Eh, Andreych? – “Ascetic” glanced at Chief of Staff Razhik.
- Sure thing, Comrade General? The most beautiful ones in Kiev, - he immediately responded.
- Well, - Rudnitsky nodded approvingly. - So, everyone understands: provide the fighters. The concert will start at 12.00 so everyone must be there by 11.30.
On the way out, Sasha Krat from the local battalion swore:
- No, is it shit or what?! I don’t have people anyway, and now I have to drag them to the concert. Instead of resting, they will waste half a day on this culture...
- Sanya, forget it. You received the order - follow it, - Ruslan Kozenkov patted him on the shoulder.
- It’s good for you to say, - Krat waved him off, - You walk 10 meters and you’re already at the concert. Find me transport, find gas, reshuffle duty shifts...
- Poor thing,” Andrey shook his head pitifully, - come on, I’ll console you! Or I’ll pour you some vodka...
- Screw you! – Krat grimaced and climbed into his car.
- How evil, - Kozenkov said feigning sadness. - So what were you saying about vodka?
- Come over in the evening. Better yet, come by tomorrow after the concert, - Andrey suggested. – Because “Ascetic” has given us many tasks, we need to hurry up.
- Ok, see you tomorrow.
Andrey checked with the inseparable couple from the Zaporozhye territorial defense battalion to meet, who had established correspondence with the Novorossiya officer.
- Well, what about our “Badger”?
- Well, he periodically disappears from communication. Yesterday he wrote that he got wounded in the arm. He was in the hospital for a week.
- So... What else is interesting?
- Well, he said a couple of times that he wouldn’t mind talking to someone from intelligence or the SBU.
- Oh? – Andrey was taken aback. - Did he offer it himself?
- Well, yes, - the fighter nodded his head. - I was surprised myself. What, should I transfer it to you?
Andrey shook his head thoughtfully:
- Not worth it yet. Find out what he wants. Money, or amnesty, or whatever else.
- Hardly an amnesty, - the interlocutor chuckled. – He suggested several times that we go over to their side. Maybe he wants to intercede for his relatives. He seems to have relatives somewhere in Ukraine.
- Maybe. So find out. Consider this a combat mission.
In the morning at the meeting, “Ascetic” again reminded them of the ensemble’s performance. But Andrey, informed about the arrival of technicians from the Dnieper, was busy with other thoughts.
The arrival of two mobile GSM band interception systems clearly indicated the impending realization of serious materials. Yan Prokofiev did not tel him anything on the “K” line. There was no information through the DZNG line, which was supervised by Zhitenev and Tsigun But Kharaberyush himself got in touch and promised to come up for lunch, as he said, “to discuss some points...”.
Andrey was sitting in his room and sorting out papers when there was a knock on the door.
– Come in, - he shouted, wondering who it could be.
The deputy commander for educational work, “political officer” as everyone called him, Colonel Sergei Sergeevich, entered the room. The guy was active, constantly wandering around checkpoints and remote locations, delivering fresh newspapers, gifts from volunteers, letters and drawings from children. So he was by no means a rear rat. At the same time, Andrey had heard that sometimes the political officer was a real bore and could drive both officers and soldiers into hysterics with his active concern. However, he was afraid of Andrey and avoided him. Which, in general, suited both of them.
- Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, could I bother you for a moment? – the political officer was politeness itself.
- Sergei, why are you so official? – Andrey was surprised. Although they did not communicate closely, they drank together a couple of times in the commander’s office and talked in an informal setting.
- Well, Andrey Ivanovich, I’m here with a delicate question...
Behind Sergei, a dashing captain in a police uniform with aiguillettes and gold shoulder straps was shifting from foot to foot.
- Wow, what a handsome man! - Andrey burst out. - Come in, dear guests.
He quickly collected the documents into a folder and waved his hand invitingly.
The political officer sat down on the sofa and looked pleadingly at Andrey:
- Ivanovich, this is the case. The ensemble has arrived, they will sing and dance. They will perform right in front of the terminal, in the courtyard, right in front of your windows. Benches for fighters are already being installed there. So, - he took a breath, and the captain picked up the conversation:
- So, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, we have a request for you. Could you spare your room for our girls to prepare for their performances? – he asked, revealing a powerful, beautiful baritone.
- This room? – Andrey asked, slightly confused.
- Well, yes. It’s very convenient. They change their clothes and immediately go out to perform, - the captain nodded.
- Damn... I don't even know. I have weapons here, documents, equipment under the table...
- Ivanovich, it’s only for an hour and a half. We'll put a guard in the hall so that nothing goes missing. Help us, will you? The general ordered to provide everything necessary, but you won’t find a normal room here. There are several people living everywhere.
- Well, - thought Andrey. – I don’t mind in general. But we’ll move the weapons and documents anyway, and my officer will stand guard in the hall.
- That’s great, - the captain exclaimed joyfully. -It is even better. Otherwise, you know, a large number of men, and our girls are beautiful, we may have excesses. And your officer protects them at the same time.
- Yeah, - Andrey grinned. - Now they will start fighting over who will be guarding them.
He summoned Lopatenko and gave him the necessary instructions.
- And remember, Vasya. You have the high honor of protecting the artists of the Academic Song and Dance Ensemble of the National Guard of Ukraine. When you return from rotation, everyone will die of envy, - Andrey concluded.
– Stop teasing me, - Vasya became embarrassed.
The two of them quickly moved the weapons, a backpack with personal belongings and Andrey’s documents to the group’s room. The suitcase with “Couplet,” which was kept in Andrey’s closet, weighed more than 30 kg and had the appropriate dimensions, so no one was worried about its fate.
Andrey was finishing his attempt to quickly restore relative order when heels clicked along the corridor and two young women appeared at the door.
- Good afternoon. Are we evicting you from your monastery? – the tall blonde smiled at Andrey.
- It’s okay, - he looked at his watch. Kharaberyush was supposed to arrive soon. – I’m leaving in 10 minutes anyway.
- Well, Sveta, you see, we just arrived, and they are all running away. Are they really afraid of us?
- And you call yourself an officer! - the second artist supported the joking tone, entering the room. - Abandoning us in difficult times!
- It’s okay, - Andrey grinned, - a couple of hundred brave men who won’t abandon you are waiting for you on the site.
The captain he’d met before reappeared at the door, followed by two soldiers carrying hefty bags.
- So girls, are you here yet? Get comfortable, get ready, we start in half an hour.
- Yes we are ready. Just need a little touch up...
- Wait, I’ll leave now, - Andrey got up from his chair.
- Don't rush. They won’t start without us anyway, - the blonde smiled cynically.
The second artist plopped down on the sofa and crossed her legs with a practiced movement. The concert dress with a deep slit immediately exposed almost the entire length of her legs. One must admit, the legs were beautiful.
- Oh, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, how can you sleep here? Such a big man and such a small sofa, - she asked languidly.
- It's okay, that's enough for me. – Shevchenko grinned. – And you girls are only going to Mariupol? Or somewhere else afterwards?
- Oh, we have a tour of the entire ATO, - the blonde had already taken out her cosmetic bag and was carefully examining herself in the mirror. – From you we will go to Kurakhovo, then to Kramatorsk. Then somewhere else. In short, we’ll be wandering around for about a month.
- Well, yes, we need to receive the status of ATO participants and get paid for combat-zone trips, – the one sitting on the sofa smiled at Andrey, – Half the members in the ensemble already have it, but we are not there yet. And all because we have families, - the blonde interjected again. – The singles went back in May and have already arranged everything for themselves. - She began to tint her lips and blew a kiss to the mirror.
Thank God, at that moment Andrey’s phone rang - Kharaberyush had already arrived at the checkpoint.
– That’s it girls, I’m leaving you. Your security is reliable. Just don’t spoil my young man, - with these words Shevchenko left the room to the laughter of the artists.
The head of local counterintelligence had already arrived and was waiting for Andrey at the checkpoint.
– Hello, hello, brother, - he traditionally hugged Andrey. - Well, there’s a conversation.
They went into the counterintelligence officer's car and sat down in the pleasantly cool air-conditioned interior.
- Listen, what kind of concert do you have there? – Sasha asked in bewilderment.
– Oh, - Andrey waved it off, - the song and dance ensemble of the National Guard has arrived. Singing...
- I see, - Kharaberyush grinned knowingly, - to raise the morale of the fighters?
- Yeah, and make money from visiting ATO zone, - Andrey conformed to his tone.
- Well, where would we be without it? - they both laughed.
- Okay, let's get down to business. Look, - Kharaberyush unfolded a diagram printed on an A3 sheet of paper, dotted with arrows and circles.
–I documented a real group. It’s managed from Rostov. The curator was identified. Presumably a GRU officer.
- Sasha, - Andrey winced, - you’re a counterintelligence officer yourself. The GRU is no longer the GRU. Just the main directorate of the General Staff.
- Yes, I know, - the interlocutor sighed, - I am tired of explaining this to the management. It's easier this way. Everyone knows the GRU.
- It's clear. Let's move on.
- Look. Here, - the pencil slid along the diagram. - These are informants. There are several in government, in the police. Some are in factories. These three, - he circled a segment of the diagram, -are responsible for connecting informants with the Russian side. They hand over money and instructions. All are active participants of Anti-Maidan. Everyone is in the Odnoklassniki social network, constantly cheering for Russia.
- What about the evidence? – Andrey asked calmly.
- Well, you know... Posts on social networks, telephone conversations - we will legalize this within a month. We need testimony. Well, we’ll also confiscate grenades and cartridges during searches. So that the court has no doubts about the arrest.
- Do you want to ask me for grenades and cartridges? – Andrey asked ironically.
- Why? We have our own, - Kharaberyush answered him in the same tone. – I want to ask the following. We plan to take a few first and not advertise their detention. It would be ideal to drag their curator onto our territory. To do this, we need to work with the detainees. And I would like to use your guys because I don’t have enough qualified personnel.
- I see, - Andrey muttered slowly. – Do you want to work closely with them in the “Library”?
- Exactly. It is necessary that, firstly, they give confessions. Secondly, that they call the Russian to a meeting.
- I got you, - Andrey nodded. - Let's do it this way. I'll go report to Rudnitsky. We still need to warn him. Give me some information to make it easier to convince him. Well, I think we can start in a week.
- No, not in a week. We start tomorrow, - Kharaberyush said, looking into Andrey’s eyes..
- How do you mean - tomorrow? You said that not everyone was identified? – Shevchenko went cold inside.
- We’ll identify them as we go. It’s just there’s some kind of movement staring there. And there are doubts that the main ones will not take off in the near future.
- Damn... Sasha, you're throwing me under the tanks with your force majeure!
- Ivanovich, it’s necessary. Otherwise, all the work will go down the drain. Let me involve Lizogub, Tsigun...
- Okay, - Andrey slammed his palm on the knee. – I’m going to Rudnitsky. If he says no, we'll use heavy guns, so to say. I'll call you back based on the results.
- Great, I'll wait for your call.
Andrey walked towards the headquarters with heavy thoughts. “Damn, the guys really might not make it in time...”
At headquarters, he turned off his usual route to the commander and popped into the toilet. There he quickly photographed Kharaberyush’s report and sent it with comments to the Center. And only after that he moved to “Ascetic”.
To his surprise, the commander received information about the upcoming implementation with enthusiasm. He even offered to allocate forces for the capture. He also agreed with the proposal to work with detainees in the “Library,” noting that, in general, this business should be gradually stopped.
- They already have a pre-trial detention center working? So let them take the detainees there...
Andrey was about to leave when Rudnitsky remembered another question:
- Listen, do you have a certain Alexey Konstantinov sitting there?
Andrey thought for a few moments, then shook his head.
- No.
- Maybe you had before? - Rudnitsky continued to inquire.
- No, I didn’t have one with this name.
- Are you sure?
Andrey took out his notebook, where at the beginning of each day he wrote down the names of the detainees who were in the “Library” for the current morning.
– Yes. During my rotation there wasn’t such a man - he leafed through all the days. – There wasn’t even anything similar. And what happened?
- Well, they called me from Kramatorsk. They are complaining that we are illegally detaining this, - “Ascetic” looked at his notes, - Alexey Konstantinov. Okay, you didn’t have him, it’s fine. Go to work.
Andrey put the unknown Konstantinov out of his head and began to think about the upcoming implementation and his possible actions to prevent the failure of the Mariupol underground.
While he was talking with the counterintelligence officer and went to report to “Ascetic”, the concert had already ended. The military were leaving the makeshift auditorium, and the artists were getting ready to leave. Political officer Sergei circled like a bumblebee around the ensemble's buses, shouting at the soldiers loading things.
- Sergei, did your dancers leave? – Andrey quietly approached him from behind.
- Yes, thank God, - he wiped the sweat from his forehead, - the chief of staff took them to Azovstal to feed them. By the way, these girls said hello to you. They said that next time you won’t escape so easily.
- Fuck them, - Andrey laughed. - Give them a finger, they’ll bite your whole hand off!
- Yeah, up to the balls! – the political officer picked up.
Chuckling, Andrey walked to his room, but stopped at the entrance. There was a persistent smell of hot female bodies in the room, which happens after a mixture of vigorous sex, cosmetics and a little alcohol.
“I don’t understand what they were doing here?” – Andrey thought, feeling the woman’s scent making him dizzy. He hasn't had sex for over a month...
He opened the window wide and left the room. He said to the attendant in the hall:
- Make sure no one pokes their nose in. I left it to air out.
- Yeah, after these artists it won’t hurt, - the duty officer nodded understandingly.
In the group’s premises, Andrey saw Pyshny and Torshin and dragged them both to the veranda.
- So guys, I’ll probably sleep in your room today.
- What is this? – Torshin was surprised.
- Well, after these artists it’s impossible to sit there. There are such aromas there that in a couple of minutes you want to fuck so bad it makes you want to scream.
- Yes, they are awesome girls, - Pyshny smacked his lips. - It’s a pity that they only came for a few hours.
- Okay, let’s skip the lyrics, - Andrey became serious. – Our local colleagues plan to begin implementation tomorrow on a group of separatists associated with Russia. Here is the report that Kharaberyush gave me.
Pyshny and Torshin bent over a piece of paper.
- Damn, he didn’t tell me anything, - Vova shook his head reproachfully. - OK. Tomorrow is tomorrow.
- Several guys from the leadership will be detained at once. The plan is this: take them quietly and make them talk. And the main thing is to call their Russian curator out.
- They’ll fail, - Pyshny said categorically. – The Russians have a ban on going over to our territory. We haven’t taken a single staff member this entire time. The only thing was back under Yuschenko, when they arrived from Transnistria. But they weren’t scared then. And after Crimea they won’t go...
- I think so too, - Andrey agreed. - But Kharaberyush will try.
- What is required of us? – asked Torshin, who had been silent before.
- Nothing special. Only take part in interrogations if they can’t handle it themselves. Just to help.
- Who will detain them?
- Here in Maryika, Dnepropetrovsk "Alpha" is on a business trip and a few Kiev guys. Plus local operatives. So there is enough strength. Rudnitsky even offered to give his “Mustangs” for capture.
- Dnepropetrovsk guys are good. They have normal guys, they know how to work, - Slava said thoughtfully. - There will be no problems there. Well, why are we needed for interrogation?
- Kharaberyush is afraid that they will not be able to crack the prisoners. And we have a reputation here for tough dudes who break everyone, - Andrey explained, smiling sadly.
- Yes, you never know how your good deeds will come back to you, - Slava summed up. - Well, let’s take part.
- OK. We will not attract too many people. Me, you two, who else? – Andrey looked at the officers.
- And that's all, perhaps. We'll take the young one as a backup. Let him study counterintelligence.
- I’m afraid he’ll learn something bad, - Andrey sighed. – Counterintelligence means working with your head, not throwing grenades and torturing.
They sat on the veranda for a long time, but did not return to the topic of tomorrow’s work. During a leisurely conversation, Slava suddenly said:
- Do you know that Dnepr sent a convoy of cars to its homeland yesterday?
- What convoy? – Andrey and Vova did not understand.
- A big one. Two Cayennes and four Lexus RXs. All, of course, without numbers and without documents. Under the escort of their jeeps, with machine gunners, - Slava took a long sip from a bottle of beer. - I talked to one little man from Dnepr. He’s hooked on weed big time. And I have a nose for them, - he laughed quietly.
- So that’s how it is. This little man told me that the “Dnepr” guys found a parking lot full of cars in one of the towns, sort of like Novoazovsk. Different cars. Both Tavriyas, and foreign cars. And the owners, it seems, are nowhere to be found. They hung around for a couple of days, and then called a specialist from Dnepropetrovsk to open the cars. They cordoned off the parking lot and took out everything they liked. The best ones were sent to Dnepropetrovsk. They took about 10 more for themselves, for internal needs. You've probably seen a white Skoda with license plates "PTN PNH"?
- Yes. “Colonel” drove it today...
- Here you go. There are still a lot of cars left there. But the locals seem to be in a frenzy. Theft reports were filed with the police. But you can’t link it to “Dnepr”. They were all wearing balaclavas and without chevrons. And now every second person wears camouflage. Such things, - Slava flicked away the cigarette butt.
- Yes... well done, what can you say, - Andrey drawled.
- Well, at least they didn’t kill anyone, - Vova concluded.
- Do you know what they call you? – Slav glanced sideways at Andrey. - “Fucking operative.” They say that in your position of power one could return from rotation on a personal plane, if you wanted to, but instead you buy gasoline for our car with your own money.
- They are not in my position, - Andrey also answered indifferently. - And they won’t be. But this money will not bring happiness. You can’t blame everything on the war. At some point you will have to answer.
- Oh, when will this “someday” be… - Slava drawled out the words. - Okay, I'm going to my place. Tomorrow, apparently, will be a busy day. I need to go to bed early
- Yes, I’ll go too,” Vova also stood up. – Are you, Andrey, coming to us? Or will you risk spending the night at your place?
- Yes, I’ll take the risk, - Andrey muttered, standing up.
- Erotic dreams might torture you, - Slava laughed.
- Yeah. Wet dreams, - Pyshny picked up.
- Fuck you, comedians...
In the morning he contacted the Center again.
A: “Sergei, what about the latest information? Have you warned the guys?”
C: “Listen, I immediately handed it over to its destination. I don’t know how the info will go there. If I have any information, I’ll let you know.”
A: “You understand, apparently, this is really our group. It doesn't look like fraud. If they are detained, it will be a serious blow to the underground.”
C: “I understand everything. The management was informed yesterday, immediately after receiving it from you. We do our best. You better tell me when you’re going home.”
A: “In a week. If nothing happens."
C: “Very good. Otherwise we’d worry about you. And in Kiev you are more needed. We ask you very much - don’t be a hero, take care of yourself. And control yourself. If you have to participate in interrogations, remember that your job is many times more important. No trips to the front are needed. What is needed is reasonable cowardice.”
During the morning meeting, a new topic suddenly came up. The threat of infiltration by militia DRGs was constantly discussed, penetration routes and possible targets were analyzed. But here a new aspect opened up.
It turned out that the Donetsk-Mariupol railway connection continued to function in full. And electric trains ran smoothly in both directions, carrying thousands of people.
- You understand that we check passenger flow only at the station, - the corpulent head of police station at the Mariupol railway station reported, puffing. – And in front of it, on the Donetsk side, there are several more small stations just within the city. And you can get off at any one of them.
- These are the times! - Rudnitsky threw the pencil. - We’re scratching our heads over how they get to us! And they travel freely on the train! "Bulat", where were you looking?
- And this is not our headache. The locals should keep track of this. They have a whole department dedicated to transport, - Andrey easily excused himself.
- Nice! You clearly shifted the blame onto the colleagues, - whispered Kozenkov, sitting next to him.
- So! Tomorrow Lizogub and his head of his “transport department” will come to me, - Rudnitsky swore. - You, naturally, too, - he glanced at the head of the railway police. - Well, who do we need from the mayor’s office? Did you write it down, chief of staff?
- Yes sir. We’ll do it, - Razhik nodded.
- Wow, damn it. This is how they can easily transfer a whole regiment, and we won’t even know, - “Ascetic” raged for another 10 minutes. - Damn, we need to put patrols into electric trains or something. Maybe “Dnepr”?
- Comrade General, I already have everything planned according to tasks, - Pechenko calmly objected. – it will not work…
As a result, the meeting lasted longer than usual. Andrey was nervous: before the meeting, they constantly handed over their phones to the receptionist on duty, and Kharaberyush had already begun implementation. Andrey was forced to sit and listen to the same thing for half an hour...
But everything ends. Even a meeting with the general. In the reception area, Andrey immediately grabbed his phone.
- Why are you so nervous, Andrey Ivanovich? - the man on duty, the cheerful Major Tolya from Odessa, teased him in a friendly manner.
- We’re starting implementation, but I’m stuck here, as if there’s nothing more important than the meeting, - Andrey answered absent-mindedly, looking through the unanswered calls.
To his surprise, Kharaberyush has not called yet. But there was a call from an unknown number and an SMS from the same number: “Andrey Ivanovich, it’s Zaporozhye that’s troubling, department “T.” Please call me back."
Surprised, Andrey dialed the number and immediately after the first ring he heard an unfamiliar voice:
- Good morning! Andrey Ivanovich, this is Major Ogryzko, Zaporozhye, department “T”.
- Very nice, - Andrey answered politely. – To what do I owe the pleasure?
- The head of the Department, General Shmitko, gave me your number...
- Yes, I know someone like that, - Andrey confirmed.
– Well, the question is this. There you have our battalion, the 23rd, assembled by the Zaporozhye regional military registration and enlistment office.
- Let's say we do. And what?
- We would like to come and bring our journalists. Plus newspapers, gifts for fighters and so on. Is this possible?
- Why not? – Andrey agreed. - Come on over, I don’t think you need my consent.
- Well, after all, a business trip to the ATO zone, and you are the leader of the group. We decided to get an aproval in advance.
- No problem. When do you plan to come? - During the conversation, Andrey left the headquarters and slowly walked towards his room.
- Well, we’ll come tomorrow then. There are three of us and two journalists.
- Fine. When you are approaching the city, call me. I'll tell you the password for the checkpoint and tell you where to go. Is that all? I'm waiting for an important call.
- Of course, of course, - the unfamiliar major began to fuss, - thank you. See you.
“Damn it, newspapers, journalists. Like I have nothing else to do... I need to push them onto political officers. Let him take the rap. He still owes me for his ensemble.”
Before he had time to finish his conversation with his Zaporozhye colleague, the phone exploded with a new call. "Kharaberush"!
Andrey didn’t guess right. It was Kramatorsk, the head of the “Bears” group calling.
- Hello, Andrey! How are the seas there?
- Damn resort. Hello, Kostya, tell me what you need. I can't stay on the phone for too long – waiting for an important call.
- Yeah, I got it. Then I'll be quick. Are you at the airport? Somewhere in a pit you have this Alexey Konstantinov sitting.... What’s up with him, are you planning to release him or imprison him?
- Damn, you’re the second person to ask about him. What kind of Konstantinov is this? – Andrey was surprised.
- Well, there’s this complaint that came to the commander. He assigned it to me, - Andrey heard in the phone. – And you know, soldiers have no time for little things like detainings and operational developments.
- Kostya, I don’t have such a detainee. And I never had. At least in my rotation, - Andrey switched the phone to his other hand. – Yesterday the commander asked. Today you’re asking... There is something strange with this Konstantinov business...
- Okay, you didn’t have him. Forget it. That's what I’ll report. That’s all. Good luck!
- Bye, - Andrey answered mechanically.
To be continued...