The Hot Summer Of Mariupol. Chapter 17 (Part 1)
The morning did not bring much relief. In addition, Andrey, who did not get enough sleep, was pretty irritated and lost his temper over every little thing. In the dining room, he even broke a salt shaker when he tried to unscrew its lid.
He tried to calm down and for about half an hour he simply wandered along the edge of the runway, where there were no people. He breathed deeply and often stopped, exposing his face to the sun's rays.
“Fuck... A few days and I will leave this nightmare... Who said that intelligence officers have an interesting and exciting life? Bitch, if I meet you, I’ll kill you!”
Immediately his thoughts jumped to something else:
“But what about the real spies who actually live under someone else’s guise? At least I communicate in Russian. Last name and first name. I can watch news from Russia and read my favorite books without hiding... How are they doing it? If I meet any, I’ll get down on my knees..."
Gradually he returned to normal and returned to himself. Sergei Demchenko and Vova Pyshny, whom he had yelled at in the morning, greeted his appearance with caution. But Andrey apologized in a calm voice, complaining about poor sleep and accumulated fatigue.
- I see... Okay, let’s forget it, - Vova waved his hand. - How was it yesterday? Did you guys succeed?
Andrey sat down on a bench on the veranda and poured himself a mug of tea. Taking a sip of boiling-hot liquid, he said in a calm voice:
- Yesterday, Vova, I had the pleasure of attending the premiere of torture at a very high level, as a result of which one of the interrogated was killed, and the other one cracked, and he gave very extensive testimony.
Pyshny didn’t understand at first:
- What does it mean - killed?
- And that’s what it means, - Andrey blew on his tea. - They suffocated him with a bag, and at some point his heart gave out. So he gave his soul to God.
Pyshny looked quite stunned:
- Come on…
– I’m serious. But the second one turned out to be tenacious. They tortured him for three hours, but he held out. Then our friends from “Dnepr” tested the Israeli method on him - water torture. And you know - it helped! – Andrey said ironically. – This is what advanced Western technique means! Not like us - all plastic bags and electric current!
- Kick-ass…- Demchenko muttered. - So what now?
- Nothing, - Andrey shrugged. - Implementation is underway. People are being detained. Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow they will reach the official level.
- What should we do?
- We? – Andrey thought about it. – Let’s start preparing reports on rotation with proposals for the future in the region. Each on his own line. I’ll summarize them later and make a big one. All the same, send it to both the ATC and our department.
- Listen, Andrey, - Sergey scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. – We figured it out with the boys... After all, we worked during the rotation normally, right? So, maybe you can talk to “Ascetic”. Let him sent a commendation to the center with an offer of giving us a bonus, huh?
- Yes, Andrey, after all, those who are sitting in Kramatorsk get pistols and crosses for themselves right away. Why are we any worse? – Pyshny supported Sergei. -We went to captures and rode out to the border. There have been arrests and weapons have been confiscated.
- Yes, I don’t mind, - Andrey agreed. – I think “Ascetic” will not be against it either. Also, I managed to do something as well, and I often reported to him. I will raise this question today.
At that moment his phone rang. The number was identified as “Ogryzko Max Zaporozhye T”.
- Hello!
- Good morning, Andrey Ivanovich! This is Maxim from Zaporozhye.
- Yes, I recognised you. Good morning to you too.
- We crossed the border into the Donetsk region. We plan to be at your location in half an hour.
- Yeah, I got you, - Andrey looked up from the phone and smiled at his colleagues. - The Zaporozhye “T” department guys are coming, they want to visit their battalion.
- One hundred percent, they want combat zone payments, - Demchenko grumbled.
Andrey nodded in agreement and continued the conversation:
- Maxim, I’ll send you the password via WhatsApp. I'll warn them at the checkpoint. As you enter the airfield, stop in the parking lot near the terminal. I'll be waiting for you there. Got it? That's great. I’ll be waiting for you.
Having finished the conversation, he turned to Demchenko.
- Sergey, these are “T” guys so you will deal with them. I don’t know what they want, but we won’t be rude to them unless, of course, they become impudent. Get ready.
As soon as he got up from the table, the phone rang again. Andrey looked at the display again:
- Oh, and this seems to be ATC from Kiev. What do they want from me? – and he picked up the phone. - Yes! I'm listening!
- Good morning, Andrey Ivanovich! Lieutenant Colonel Tsarkov, ATC headquarters. Is it convenient to talk?
- Quite, - Andrey grinned. – How are things going in there?
In response, he also heard a chuckle:
– It’s a madhouse! A hotline was opened for us regarding ATO issues. Now there is no end to active citizens and complainants. Actually, that’s why I’m calling, - the speaker rustled papers.
- A letter came to us here from Lutkovskaya’s secretariat. Well, this one, a defender of human rights. They are complaining about the illegal detention and imprisonment of citizen Alexey Viktorovich Konstantinov, a resident of Mariupol. Allegedly, you have detained him for a week already. You’re torturing him at the airport and don’t give him the opportunity to contact his relatives and lawyer.
- Damn... - Andrey exhaled. - Listen, what the hell is this? My ears are already buzzing with this Konstantinov! Now I’ll explain to you: I don’t have anyone like that and never have! Since my arrival, I haven’t had anyone with that last name.
- Hmm, maybe some unidentified one...
- What are you saying, we don’t have that kind of stuff. And then, they are brought to us for a reason. The report is drawn up, where the last name is indicated. I keep all the reports. There was no such person. I'm serious.
There was silence on the phone for a while, then the man hesitantly asked:
- So what should we do? I’ll have to give an answer to this ombudsman, - Tsarkov almost broke his tongue pronouncing the word. - What should I write?
- Just write it like that: the information has not been confirmed. He is not listed among those detained by the SBU units in sector “M” of the ATO. Period. That’s all. Sorry. The commander is calling me, - Andrey disconnected and swore.
- What the hell! Do you know how many people have already asked me about this Konstantinov? – he explained to Pyshny and Demchenko. - But we didn’t have one and don’t have one. I don't understand a damn thing...
The Zaporozhye guys arrived half an hour later. Andrey sat on a bench in front of the parking lot and watched as a minibus with Zaporozhye license plates carefully passed the checkpoint and hesitantly drove up to the asphalt area.
Andrey stood up and waved his hand to the driver, indicating where to park.
- Welcome, dear guests, - he muttered quietly. Luckily there was no one nearby. Sergei Demchenko rode off to look for the political officer, whom they planned to surprise with a visit from his colleagues.
The minibus stopped, and the side door rolled back with a slight rustle. “Wow, Rambo!” – Andrey admired. A strong man in camouflage, in armor and an unloading vest, hung with assault riffle magazines, a knife, a first aid kit and other army cargo, slowly got out onto the asphalt. Moreover, the equipment and camouflage were clearly imported, such as “5.11” or “MilTek”[1]. A hip holster with a bulky Stechkin[2] and an AKSU[3] casually thrown over the shoulder completed the picture. All that was missing was a helmet. But even here Andrey was mistaken: the owner of the arsenal bent into the cabin and pulled out a helmet. However, he did not put it on. Apparently, he considered the surrounding reality safe for his head. At that moment, a similar guy climbed out of the cabin. Only he was smaller in stature and his equipment was clearly budget, domestic. Although this did not prevent him from looking no less militant than the first.
Andrey turned towards the driver, sincerely expecting to see another “super special forces soldier”. However, here he was disappointed: a man of about fifty was sitting behind the wheel, dressed in an ordinary Ukrainian “medusa” [4].
- Well... I thought this was a fighting troika, - Andrey muttered again under his breath and smiled towards the guests.
“I must look cool now compared to them, in flip-flops and a washed-out T-shirt!” – Andrey almost laughed.
They introduced each other quickly. Maxim Ogryzko himself was riding in the cabin. His department chief, Colonel Yura Galitsky, was sitting in the cabin. Both went on a business trip to the ATO, since it was Department “T” that was responsible for countering terrorism, and an anti-terrorist operation was being carried out here. This is exactly how Galitsky explained the reason for his arrival.
- Well, we also brough newspapers to our battalion. Yes, a journalist from a Zaporozhye newspaper also came with us. He wants to take a few photos about the Zaporozhye fighters. Let people at home know about their heroes, - Ogryzko told Andrey as they walked to the location.
- No problem, - Andrey agreed. – Now your colleague will come, he works in the same department in the central office. He will show you around.
- Tell me, Andrey Ivanovich, how is it here in general? Calm or not? Do they shoot often? – Ogryzko adjusted the gun on his belt.
- Yes, every day,” Andrey answered with a serious face. - At the end of the takeoff, the Nazis set up a shooting range and are shooting there. Sometimes you want to take a nap after lunch, and they start shooting games.
- No... I’m talking about the war, - Maxim was slightly offended.
- Ah…. No, everything is calm here. For this you need to go to Amvrosievka or to Maryinka.
- Were you there? – it was already Galitsky who asked the question.
- Yes, - Andrey answered briefly. - Both there and in other places. So I can compare – this is a resort.
- Damn it, we were riding like fools in full combat gear,- Yura shook his head.
- So, no one told you what the situation is like here? – Andrey was already sincerely amused.
- Where? The news is all about battles, all along the line. So everone thinks that in ATO zone they shoot everywhere.
- That is OK. At least you can tell everyone how you sweated in that armor all day!
- Yeah! And bullets whistled overhead. – Maxim smiled sadly.
While talking, they went into Andrey's room, where he seated the guests at the table. Galitsky signaled to his subordinate, and Maxim took out a small raid backpack, which gurgled with a familiar sound.
- Here, Andrey Ivanovich, accept this for your acquaintance and as a token of gratitude. For welcoming me and not refusing, - four one-liter bottles of Khortytsia appeared on the table one after another.
- Damn, guys, you're too generous... Why? We would have let you come either way,- Andrey scratched the back of his head.
- It’s okay, we’ll help you, - Sergei appeared in the room, with the political officer looming behind him. - Here, I brought him.
- Yeah! Come on, go get the dishes. And you, commissar, come in and sit down.
The political officer began to refuse, but Demchenko practically dragged him into the room by force.
- Here, guys. This is our sector commander, the heroic Colonel Sergei Sergeevich. He visited all the checkpoints. By the way, your battalion is also not ignored, even though they are from the Ukrainian Armed Forces.
- Come on, Ivanovich, you really praised me too much, - Sergei Sergeevich became embarrassed. It is clear that he was not at ease in the company of only SBU officers. And Andrey continued:
- Don't worry. We won't recruit you. We just need to take the guys to the border and transport them to Russia. There they give good money for the heads of SBU officers. And we won’t tell anyone about your help... And we’ll even share it.
The political officer turned red like a lobster:
- You’re joking, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel... - and tried to get up.
- Come on, Sergeich, that's it. Sorry. Well, I was joking, just joking, - Andrey caught him by the hand and forced him back into the chair.
At that moment Demchenko entered with glasses, and they drank a toast to getting to know each other.
- Sergeich, take the boys to the 23rd battalion, let them drive up to a couple of checkpoints. Photos will be taken and newspapers will be distributed. And working with personnel is a plus for you. I made an agreement with the commander. Deal?
- Okay, - the political officer muttered, chewing on the cucumber he chased vodka with. - I'll do it. I was heading that way myself. So, let’s go?
- Yes, let’s go, - the guests began to get up. Leaving the room, Ogryzko turned to Andrey:
- Listen, Andrey Ivanovich, will you give us travel allowances? And please, could you make sure that there’s a stamp “sector “M” of the ATO.”
- What, for the accounting department? Or for a frame on the wall? – Andrey grinned knowingly.
- Both, - Maxim grinned in response. - You never know. Maybe it will be possible to get a combat-zone trip pay.
– I’ll get you one. When you come back either I will have it, or I will leave it with Sergei.
- Thank you, - Ogryzko shook hands firmly and ran outside.
- Well, comrade major, - Andrey looked cheerfully at Demchenko. – Just like that, out of the blue we earned 4 liters of vodka!
- One is mine, - Sergei responded. – I also participated. I need to present something to the “Dnepr” team.
- Yes, take it, - Andrey waved generously. - That's it, it's time to wrap up our business trip. By the way, we also need to make a little celebration for our replacement...
For some time he was frankly idle, studying news on the Internet, when he was disturbed. For a change, it was not a radio call, but a phone call.
Kiev called. Kondratyuk’s deputy reported that the department’s mobile group detained Elena Blokha at the traffic police post in Volnovakha. This person was quite well-known, as she was on the list of the DPR leadership and was the press secretary of the head of the DPR.
- Well, our people detained her. Now they are taking her to you. Keep her there for a few hours. Our group had already left Dnepropetrovsk to pick her up. She is a person we really need. Understood?
Andrey sighed: “What idiots! They just can’t seem to understand that they are all on the Ukrainian side’s wanted lists! And now no one can get her out. And she knows a lot about the internal affairs of the DPR.”
- Certainly. If they bring her, I’ll keep her. I'll wait for the group and tell them.
He had to break away from the Internet and report to the Center. Andrey noted that Kiev was quite excited. Of course! The person who organized Boroday’s press conferences fell into the hands of the SBU. He also said everything he thinks about the mental development of some DPR leaders.
They brought her in half an hour later. Andrey whistled for Slava Torshin and went to receive the DPR press secretary.
Elena Blokha was traveling to Crimea. On vacation. In her own Volkswagen Golf. And she also took her son with her, a 15-year-old boy. Now this whole company was brought to the airport, and Andrey was thinking about where to put them for a few hours until they come for them from Dnepropetrovsk.
As a result, the madam was placed in an empty small refrigerator compartment, and her son was placed on a chair near the duty officer. The counterintelligence officers began to talk with the woman. Although, they behaved correctly. Andrey was present for a few minutes, after which he went outside.
At that moment, he was intercepted by Slava Torshin, who quickly examined Blokha’s car.
– I need you for two words, Andrey...
When they stepped aside, Slava showed him an envelope with dollars rustling inside.
- Andrey, here's a thousand bucks. She hid it under the seat. Those who detained her haven't looked at the car in detail yet, otherwise they would have already taken it away. I thought, why give it to them? It’s better to keep it for us...
- This is her money? – Andrey looked at Slava.
- Oh, please, - Torshin grimaced. – She was detained by the central office. This means that no one will let her out. And in prison she will no longer have time for money. Haven't you spent enough here? How many times did you fill up your car, how much food did you buy? Who will compensate you?
For some time Andrey hesitated. Then he waved his hand and took half the money.
“Damn, I’ll buy gifts for Svetka and Lenochka. Yes, and it will be a good cover, making me look like them more...”
Torshin, a bit overjoyed, patted him on the shoulder.
- Wow, I already started thinking that you were too righteous! I actually doubted it... And now I see that I can do business with you!
- What, is it just because I took the money? – Andrey smiled wryly.
- No, of course not, - Slava clicked his teeth. – When working there, on the capture, there are no complaints against you. But your scrupulousness was alarming. You know how people make money here. Ivan over there probably earned money for the second car during his rotation. Others too, although in small ways... And you, like, wearing white gloves. And people don't like this. This worries people. But now I see that you belong. I can go on reconnaissance missions with you. I can trust you.
- Yeah. Trust earned by stealing her money, - Shevchenko muttered. Slava laughed and suggested that they celebrate the matter in the evening. Moreover, “according to intelligence data, Zaporozhye colleagues brought a box of Khortitsa to Andrey.”
- Already a box? – Andrey smiled tiredly. – By the end of the rotation there will be a tank. Come on, of course, stop by after the meeting. Let's sit and talk...
Sitting down on a bench, Andrey reasoned:
“By taking the money, I committed a crime, theft. However, talking about crimes while being in the ATO and taking part in torture every day is ridiculous. On the other hand, by this act I strengthened my legend and nullified possible suspicions. As Slava correctly noted, righteousness is not liked by others and is alarming... So you need to report to the Center about a new method of conspiracy through participation in illegal enrichment!” - Andrey chuckled at this conclusion. - “But exactly. Even if one is caught for looting and corruption, no one will even think of suspecting espionage after that. A priori, these questions cannot be combined...”
After lunch he was caught up by “Italian” and “Colonel”.
- Andrey, there is a matter.
- I don't want any matter. I want shish kebab and vodka! – he joked.
- Yes, easily, - the “Dnepr” team answered in unison. They looked at each other and laughed. Then “Colonel” continued:
- Let's deal with the matter and celebrate. Shish kebab is on us. Deal?
- Deal. I just sense, my brothers, that you’re getting me into some kind of adventure again, - Andrey grinned openly.
- Not this time. Everything is serious, - “Italian” sat down on the sofa.
- Look. According to our information, this evening at this address, - a small rectangle of a business card lay on the table, - there will be a meeting of the leaders of the Mariupol separatist movement. There will be seven people, five men and two women. All former associates of Yanukovich. Two came from Donetsk for this purpose. We should take them. They know a lot.
- Ok, - Andrey drummed his fingers on the table. – And their names, surnames, positions? Who are they?
– There’s nothing, - “Italian” sighed. – Only oral information. But it’s solid, I'm sure.
- Okay, - Andrey pursed his lips. – What do you want from me?
- You see, “Ascetic” slightly limited our freedom. Each departure must be coordinated with him. Can you convince him?
- Ha, Slava, you want to throw me under the tanks again? - Andrey was amused. – No way. Let's go together. I will support your request, I can even personally participate. But since the case is yours, you will voice it to “Ascetic”. Will it do?
- Okay, - “Colonel” agreed after a short exchange of glances. - Let's go then, why waste time...
They entered Rudnitsky’s room together with Pechenko. The conversation turned out to be short. “Ascetic,” to Andrey’s surprise, approved the idea and even suggested using an armored personnel carrier during the capture.
– Why not? – he boomed in his usual manner. - A residential house, two-story, you say... And the armored personnel carrier will break through the gate and easily press against the house!
- No, it’s not worth it, - Pechenko objected. - We will work with our buses. The whole city already knows them, they’ve become familiar. If you take an armored personnel carrier, it will immediately make noise.
- That’s true, - Rudnitsky agreed. – When do you plan to go?
- Let's go in the evening. We'll come there at 11 o'clock.
- Fine. Keep me posted. “Bulat”, you are in control, okay? – the general concluded the short conversation.
- Yes, sir, I got it...
“Dnepr” drove off into the night. Andrey himself did not go with them. He really wanted to finally get some sleep. He just sent Vanya, Torshin and young Sasha with them.
- If there’s anything important, call at any time, - he instructed his people, yawning. – If there’s nothing super interesting, you’ll tell me in the morning.
- Don’t worry, go get some sleep, - Slava laughed. - You yawn so much that you almost swallowed me!
Andrey himself had previously informed the Center about the planned “Dnepr” operation and was confident that there would be enough time to warn the underground activists. They warned “Chechen” half an hour in advance! So he was sure that no one would disturb him at night.
He woke up himself, in a good mood, cheerful and rested. “Three days, just three days and I can go home!” Nobody disturbed him. The night passed peacefully. On the way to the washroom, he saw young Sasha.
- Sasha, hello! How did it go yesterday? Nothing interesting?
– Lot’s of interesting! - answered the senior lieutenant, yawning. – 11 people were detained, we seized two machine guns, a lot of money, IDs... “Dnepr” are still at the site. And we came back at 4 am.
- How so? – Andrey was stunned. – And who are the detainees?
- I don’t really know, - Sasha waved it off. – Slava and Vanya worked with them. I looked around the yard. The house, let me tell you, is great! Three floors. In the basement there is a huge hall with billiards and a bar.
- Why 11 people? The talk was about 8...
- So three people lived in this house. Two guards and a woman. Like, a housekeeper, that is, a housekeeper.
- Okay, go to bed, - Andrey dismissed the young man, looking at his red, sticky eyes.
He hurried to his place. “Telegram” contained a message from Sergei: “Thank you for the information. Transferred to Donetsk. But according to their information, none of the serious people were sent to Mariupol. No meetings were planned there. Clarify, please".
- It’s strange, - Andrey muttered out loud. - Who was detained at night then?
Everything became clear within an hour.
The phone showed an incoming caller “Vadim Tsigun”.
- Hello to the owners of Mariupol, - Andrey greeted cheerfully.
- Are you at your place? – without preamble, Vadim asked in a gloomy tone.
- What's happened? – Andrey immediately became serious.
- Are you?
- Yes.
- I'll be there in 15 minutes. Wait, please, we need to talk. – Tsigun hung up.
Realizing that Vadim would not just bother him for no reason, Andrey himself tensed up. “Damn, if only it was not about my guys! At the end of the rotation! Fuck such a swing!”
to be continued
[1] MilTek is one of the brands of the wholesale trade company Sturm Handels GmbH, which deals with the sale of surplus clothing originally intended for the armed forces, as well as the production and distribution of clothing and equipment for active recreation of the Outdoor line.
[2] An automatic 9-mm Stechkin pistol, adopted for service in 1951 to equip officers taking part in combat operations, as well as soldiers and sergeants of some special forces.
[3] AKSU is a short folding Kalashnikov assault rifle.
[4] Medusa is one of the names of the outdated Ukrainian camouflage, a streetwear brand.