The Hot Summer Of Mariupol. Chapter 17 (Part 2)
He woke up by 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!”
The local colleague was punctual - after 15 minutes his jeep parked at the airport checkpoint. Andrey was waiting for him, sitting on a bench. Life went on as usual, and cars from both gangs and locals constantly drove up to the checkpoint. Some continued to serve the troublesome airfield services, while others continued to communicate with the military. Parents also came to visit the National Guard soldiers, among whom were conscripts...
Andrey waved to Tsigun and headed in his direction. He was apparently very nervous, because even through the windshield his pale face and the incessant drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel could be seen.
- Hello. What's happened? – getting into the car, Andrey immediately asked.
- Well, that’s what happened, - Vadim answered slightly absent-mindedly.
Then he turned to Andrey:
- Tell me honestly, when you sent your people out for a night capture, did you specifically decide to cross me?
- You? – the amazement on Andrey’s face was genuine. - What do you have to do with it?
- Yes, that was my place! – Vadim yelled. – I created it five years ago. And all this time I was careful to make sure that no one would get in there! And bam - they destroyed everything!
- Stop, don't yell at me! – Andrey also raised his voice. - What “your place”? My guys from “Dnepr” detained people at a meeting of separatists.
- What fucking“separatists? – Tsigun hissed through his teeth. - A game was scheduled there. A serious game. The people who gathered are very authoritative, the stakes are high...
- What game? – Andrey did not understand.
– A fucking Monopoly! – the colleague lost his temper again. – It was my CASINO!!! People played cards there. I’ve had it for a long time. Only a narrow circle of people were admitted. Serious people! And now that's it...
– Oh.. - Andrey shook his head, dumbfounded. – Casino... And yesterday serious people came there to play?
- Well, yes, - Vadim nodded doomedly. - Of course, they were released in the morning. They have to be charged with. If only you had heard what they said to me... In short, I lost my business, and this is the most insignificant incident so far. For now…
- What could be even worse, - Andrey answered mechanically, pondering the new information.
- There can be, believe me. People do not forgive such insults. And your people seriously offended them at night. They kept them, including women, on the floor in handcuffs for several hours. They bullied them in every way...
- You know, Vadik, - Andrey interrupted him. – Don’t you start on bullying! The way your Kharaberyush bullies, no one comes close! So don’t tell me about bullying here. I don’t feel sorry for your underground oligarchs one bit. On the contrary, let them feel the weight of people's love.
- I’m not asking you to be sorry, - Tsigun looked absently into the windshield. - Only the bank disappeared. More than 300 thousand euros.
- Wow! – Andrey was really surprised. Moreover, he was surprised not at the amount itself, but at where “Italian” got such information.
- Wow, - Vadim nodded, misinterpreting the reason for Andrey’s exclamation. - And now all the money will be pinned on me. The casino is mine, I didn’t protect it. It’s up to me to answer for it.
– That’s not good. – Andrey muttered. -What do you want from me?
- Andrey, - Tsigun turned his whole body to him and looked straight into his eyes. - I know you stay out of this business. You wouldn't. Tell me where the roots are? Who did it?
Andrey assessed the pros and cons of the situation and told his interlocutor the whole background. Without skipping anything.
– So, it’s like this. Rudnitsky gave the go-ahead. He even offered an armored personnel carrier. Well, then you know...
- So, “Dnepr,” Vadim drawled slowly. - Understood. Thanks Andrey. I'll figure it out myself from here.
– I did whatever I could for you, - Andrey answered, thinking to himself: “So that you devour each other, bitches!”
Walking back to his place, Andrey even had fun: “Oh, this “Italian”, smart ass! He found some information about the casino and the big game somewhere. He painted it as a meeting of “separatists” and attacked it with the forces of law enforcement agencies. I wonder who leaked such information to him? The staff couldn't. So, one of the players... Exactly. Although...,” Andrey even paused, “it may turn out that this is not his own endeavor. Vitalik is simply a performer. And the information came from someone who can give “Dnepr” orders. So, most likely, it was like that. Ay, well, they're still great! They dumped these snickering hucksters. They also managed to set up the deputy head of the SBU department! Now Tsigun won’t have time to work!”
In the evening, a good table was laid at the “Dnepr” base. Moreover, there seemed to be no reason, but after Andrey raised a toast “to colleagues who know how to combine business with pleasure and private business with public business,” everyone present smiled knowingly.
Among the “Dnepr” officers was the battalion commander Bereza, which Andrey was not at all surprised by. Now he was almost sure that it was Bereza who brought information about the upcoming game and it was he who pointed “Colonel” and “Italian” to the casino. But Andrey didn’t care at all. The more they tear each other apart, the better for the underground.
During the conversation, “Prosecutor”, who was present right there and had returned a couple of days ago, suddenly jumped up.
- You, Ivanovich, don’t know what kind of rarity we found in a search!
- Where is he going? – Andrey asked the “Dnepr” people in bewilderment.
- Oh, you’ll see now, - “Colonel” winked knowingly. - You know a lot about weapons, right? – he suddenly switched the subject.
- Well, kind of, - Shevchenko answered cautiously, afraid of falling into an awkward position.
- Look... - “Prosecutor” flew into the room, holding Sudaev’s submachine-gun, the legendary PPS.
- Wow! - Andrey exclaimed. – Is it a real one?
– Sure thing! – “Prosecutor” answered importantly. - There was even one clip attached to it; the guys shot it this morning.
- Let me see, - Andrey impatiently extended his hand.
The submachine gun was good. As they say - nothing superfluous. Strict functionality of an excellent weapon.
- What a thing! - Andrey admired, twirling it in his hands. – Do you know that the PPS was recognized as the best machine gun of the Great Patriotic War?
- Just a minute. There were no Great Patriotic War. There was a German-Soviet war on the territory of Ukraine, - Bereza, who had previously been silent almost the entire evening, suddenly entered the conversation.
Andrey fell silent in shock, looking around at those around him. From Pechenko’s grimaced face, he realized that not everyone liked Bereza’s words, but no one continued the discussion of the subject.
- Well, shall we have a drink? - “Colonel” tried to defuse the awkward silence that arose and raised his glass. - Let's drink to the cooperation of military branches, which allows us to carry out tasks accurately and on time!
- And to considerable mutual pleasure, - muttered Andrey.
“Italian” heard him and clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly manner.
- That's it! You contact me. Now we will always help you!
Andrey understood the hint perfectly and grinned. The holiday continued, and Andrey quietly glanced towards Bereza.
“How did it happen that you, Yuri Nikolaevich, who graduated from a military school in the Soviet Union and served as an officer in the Soviet army, turned into such a freak? And you’re not from Lvov or Ternopil, but from Dnepropetrovsk! Strange... The phrase about the Great Patriotic War was clearly not spontaneous. Most likely, he and his circle really think so. Oh-oh, what will happen if such people get into power... Will May 9, the Victory Day, be cancelled?”
The next morning did not bring any alarming news. The center sent gratitude for the analytical report regarding the confrontation between local SBU officers and battalion fighters, during which each other’s financial channels were undermined. Because Andrey was sure that Vadim Tsigun and those who stand behind him would not ignore such an open invasion of their territory. Well, civil strife in the camp of enemies is always to our advantage...
In a good mood, Andrey had breakfast, then went to a meeting. After the meeting, he was intercepted by soldiers of the Zaporozhye battalion, who maintained contact with the DPR officer “Badger”.
- Oh, hello, hello, you spies!
- We wish you good health, - they greeted, and the younger one immediately spit out stunning information, - “Comrade Lieutenant Colonel. Our “Badger” told us that they had rumors about an offensive.
- Come on, - Andrey looked at him incredulously. - What kind of offensive? Yes, they gave us a hard time at the border. But we are advancing around Donetsk. We'll cut it off soon and that's it. What offensive?
- I don’t know, - the private shrugged. - Only “Badger” advised us to either get out of Mariupol while we can, or immediately surrender and demand a meeting with the MGB. Then, like, they won’t hurt us while detaining...
- Oh, well, it’s some kind of nonsense, - Andrey doubted. – Who is there to be afraid of? It’s a long way to Donetsk, even further to the border... Your “Badger” is out of his mind. Tell him to stop scaring you with rumors.
- I’ll tell him, - the interlocutor nodded. - But what if it’s true?
- Well, if it’s true, we’ll fight! – Andrey answered cheerfully. - Don't worry. Soon it will be Independence Day, a holiday. And in September, I heard, they will rotate you back and replace you with someone else. You will go to your place in Zaporozhye.
– I hope it’ll be soon, - the soldier shuddered. - I'm tired of here...
Andrey was writing a message to the Center about strange information from “Badger” when his radio hissed:
- “Bulat”, answer “Gate”!
- “Bulat” here!
- Then people arrived. For Alexey Konstantinov. They say you are aware.
- What? – Andrey’s surprise knew no bounds, – For whom?
- Konstantinov, Alexey. They say he should be released today.
- Amazing! I'll be there now. – Andrey fussed.
For several days he has been bothered by various authorities with questions about Alexey Konstantinov. And now the situation will finally be resolved.
- Now we’ll see who’s making such jokes there, - Andrey muttered, putting on a T-shirt and attaching the holster to his hip.
He quickly walked past the “Library” towards the checkpoint.
It was quite lively there for the early afternoon. Two young men who arrived in a large jeep were actively discussing something with two warrant officers of the National Guard. A little further away there were old Zhiguli cars. Apparently, parents were sitting on a bench next to them with their son, a soldier, and with relatives who were feeding the soldier homemade treats. Even further away there was a lone taxi, but this was not surprising - the military from the airfield often ordered cars to go into the city. At the barrier, in the faint shade of acacia trees, soldiers of the checkpoint squad in bulletproof vests and helmets hovered.
- Great. Well, who came for Konstantinov? – Andrey asked, looking around.
A short, strong sergeant greeted him politely and pointed to the taxi:
- There... They’ve been sitting there all the time, they won’t come out.
- Well, of course, there’s air conditioning there, - Andrey grinned and moved towards the car.
Apparently, having correctly interpreted the sergeant’s gesture, the visitors got out of the taxi.
A beautiful woman of about thirty, dressed in a light, colorful sundress, approached Andrey. A fair-haired girl of about seven years old, with funny pigtails sticking out in different directions, was holding her hand by the side. The third woman, much older, hesitated near the car, where the driver was taking several loaded bags, apparently containing groceries, out of the trunk.
- Hello, - the woman greeted him, and Andrey noted her pleasant voice, in which notes of impatience and hope were easily discernible. – I’m Anna Konstantinova. I came for my husband.
- Hello, I am a senior member of the SBU group in sector “M”. Name is Andrey. Sorry, I can’t give you my last name, - he introduced himself in turn.
- I’m not interested in that, - the woman smiled faintly. - I’ll take my husband and leave. I brought everything you said. She pointed to the packages brought by an elderly woman with a driver.
- Ok, stop, - Andrey rubbed his forehead. - I do not understand anything. I'm seeing you for the first time. How could I tell you anything? When? And why did you even think that your husband is with us?
- Well, of course, you called me. Or your employees. And they said... - the woman still continued to smile, but fear was already splashing in her eyes. - What about him? Do you have it? Answer me!
- Anna, - Andrey sighed, - let’s sit down, I need to figure it out, - he didn’t dare take her hand and simply pointed to the bench.
- Listen, why did you decide that we have your husband? – having asked the question, Andrey looked at the girl, who remained standing and pressed herself against the elderly woman, obviously her grandmother.
Anna did not have time to answer, because the girl, looking at Andrey with not childishly serious eyes, asked:
- Mister, are you in charge here? Give me back my dad! Please…
- Mom, take Tanya to the car, - the woman ordered in a trembling voice. - Tanya, sit in the car for now. Let uncle Sergei play a cartoon for you on your tablet.
- I don’t want a cartoon, I want to see my dad! – the girl cried, but allowed her grandmother to lead her towards the car.
- So, Anna, tell me, why did you get the idea that your husband is with us?
She sighed shakily and, tightly clasping her intertwined fingers around her knee, began to tell. Obviously, this was not the first time she had done this, so the story was short and precise.
Two weeks ago, her husband, a resident of Mariupol, Alexey Konstantinov, went to Starobeshevo with two friends. One of his friends was planning to sell his car and it was there that a buyer was found willing to give a good price. The owner of the car asked two comrades to go with him for safety and so that it wouldn’t be boring.
Since then there has been no news from either Alexey or the other two men. Their phones were constantly turned off.
And a few days after he went missing, an unknown person called Anna from Alexey’s phone and said that her husband had been detained on suspicion of separatism and was in Mariupol, at the airfield.
She rushed to the police and the SBU, but they just waved her off. Nobody wanted to contact the Mariupol airfield. Then she began to contact all authorities in Kiev, write complaints and statements, and contact email addresses. Lawyers she knew helped contact the Verkhovna Rada Commissioner for the Protection of Human Rights, Lutkovskaya, to whom Anna also sent several requests. However, all appeals did not bring any results.
- Naturally, - Andrey muttered. - They all came down to me...
The woman took a deep breath, but did not react in any way to Andrey’s remark. The story continued.
- And yesterday the same unknown man called me again. He said that the issue of releasing my Alexey could be resolved for two thousand dollars. Plus, we need to set a good table for the SBU officers. Here, I brought money, you can be sure, - she pulled out an envelope from her purse, - and everything else too. Food, drinks, everything.
She raised her eyes to Andrey, in which tears were already shining.
- Let him out. I did everything as you said... - her voice stopped.
Andrey clenched his teeth tightly until they creaked. The situation was more or less clear to him. Most likely, the men were deliberately lured into a deal, seduced by a good price. After which they were killed and their bodies were hidden somewhere in an unknown location between Mariupol and Starobeshev. Well, then someone decided to try to make some more money. Well, or just make fun of the wife of the murdered man... And that person began to play a vile game.
- Anna, - Andrey cleared his throat, - you may not believe me, but I’m telling you honestly: we don’t have your husband. And I never had. Believe me, I have no need to lie to you.
- What are you saying? Why are you lying? – her voice trembled, and it was clear that the woman was holding back her sobs with all her strength.
- Anna, your husband wasn't here. I give you my word as an officer. I've been here for a month and a half. All this time, all the detainees passed through me. There were many of them, but not one named Konstantinov. Or even with a similar name.
- And his friends, Potapov and Oleshko? – she was still clutching at hope.
- No, - Andrey shook his head. – I remember everyone, because I write to the management about each one. There were no such people.
The woman closed her eyes. Small tears ran down my cheeks from under her eyelids:
- I do not believe you…
- Listen, I can check where your husband’s phone was communicating from. Give me the number, I can do it! – Andrey tried to somehow cheer up his interlocutor.
The woman opened her eyes and looked at Andrey with undisguised contempt.
- Don't bother. I'll do everything myself...
Taking a handkerchief from her purse, she carefully wiped away her tears. Having hidden the envelope with the money back, she could not resist asking:
- One thing I don’t understand is why you didn’t take the money from me? They would take the envelope and leave, promising that they would release Alexey. And I would wait here for you until I’m blue in the face. What, were you scared? – the woman raised her voice, nervously crumpling the handkerchief in her hands.
– I... I... well, I never intended to take money from you! And I didn't call you! – Andrey helplessly tried to explain himself.
They sat in silence for some time.
- You know, I'm three months pregnant, - Anna said unexpectedly calmly. – Alexey and I were planning to move to Kiev after I give birth. Out of harm's way. Now I’ll stay here, - she looked into Andrey’s eyes. – I hope it’s a boy. He will grow up and avenge his father. Both to you and to your accomplices.
Then she closed her eyes and said quietly:
- How I hate you...
Andrey couldn’t find what to answer. Clenching his fists, he silently looked at the ground, dreaming of one thing - for this torture to end as soon as possible.
- So, most likely, you killed him. And you won’t even return his body to me, -Anna stated calmly, looking at him with red, but already dry, eyes. - Well, I hope it all works out for you.
She stood up abruptly and, without turning around, walked towards the car. A beautiful, easy gait.
The elderly woman swayed from the car towards her. There was a short conversation between them, after which the elderly woman’s shoulders sank and she covered her face with her hands. Anna hugged her, and both froze in a strange, unnatural sculpture right on the asphalt of the roadway. The soldiers at the checkpoint and the soldier’s merry relatives looked at them. On a warm, pleasant August day, this couple clearly smelled of grave cold and misfortune...
Only Andrey did not see this. He remained sitting on the bench, clenching his fists and jaw. There was a strong ache in the left side of his chest, and his breathing suddenly stopped. He needed to calm himself down with deep inhales, but the usual methods did not help - the pain on the left side did not go away...
Meanwhile, the women got into the car, the driver of which began to turn around. The already departing taxi braked, and the elderly woman got out.
“And this, apparently, is the mother,” Andrey thought indifferently, looking at the woman approaching him.
She stopped two steps away. For some time, Andrey and the woman looked at each other in silence. Then she spat right in his face:
- Damn you, you bastard!
The taxi had long since left, taking away the unhappy family, who had lost hope of the return of their husband, son and father, and Andrey was still sitting on the bench. Finally, a sergeant from the checkpoint approached him:
- Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, are you all right?
Andrey looked up at him blankly:
- Yes, Sergeant, thank you. Everything is fine.
He stood up heavily and slowly walked towards his room.
There were three days left until the end of the rotation.
Andrey sat in his room and stupidly drank. Almost no food, just a couple of pear-flavoured candies.
There were a lot of disgusting and terrible things in this rotation. But this girl, who looked at him with serious eyes and was waiting for her dad, struck Andrey’s consciousness more powerfully than the charred bodies at Saur-Mogila.
He didn’t yet know that he would dream about this girl for several years...
“I wonder, do the “Dnepr” people dream of the ones they killed? Not in battle, but like this - for the sake of acar? Or the girls they raped?” – he thought lazily, lounging on the sofa and warming another portion of vodka in a glass.
At that moment there was a knock on the door and Slava entered.
- Wow! Why are you pumping yourself up in broad daylight? - Torshin took the half-empty bottle, sniffed it and... also poured himself half a glass.
- I feel sick, Slava, - Andrey muttered.
- That’s understandable, - he agreed easily. - Everyone is sick. We are tired. Time to go home.
- Yes. It's time...
- But this is not a reason to get drunk in broad daylight! – Slava took the glass from Andrey and put it on the table. – You worked out the rotation so well, there’s no need to ruin everything on the last day! Come on, get up! – Slava bugged Andrey. In the end, he picked him up and sent him to the shower.
The cold water invigorated Andrey and brought him to his senses.
“Really, what am I doing? There are two days left, I’ll worry at home,” he thought, standing under the streams of cold water.
When, drying himself, he returned to the room, Slava was already sitting on the sofa, drinking his glass.
– Good things shouldn't go to waste! – he smiled slyly at Andrey’s questioning glance. - I don’t have to go to any meetings, and a bottle is not supposed to be left unfinished. So what came over you? – he asked a question in turn.
Andrey thought about it and told him. The whole story, from the first calls and questions of “Ascetic” to the last curse of the old woman.
- Phew... Well, why were you so worried? It wasn’t you who killed those guys, right? – Slava took a long sip and exhaled noisily. - Oh, good stuff! And they themselves are not so smart, either. They know what’s going on here, and they went somewhere to sell the car. Couldn't they find a buyer in Mariupol? Looking for an extra five hundred bucks? Well, who would call them smart? - Seeing that Andrey was silent, Torshin began to reason. - But, of course, the one who called this woman is a real scum.
- Most likely, he killed her husband, - Andrey added gloomily.
- Or he was nearby, - Slava nodded, agreeing. - But we will never know.
– I can look at the billing for the phone... - Andrey began.
– You can. But what for? – Slava asked, chasing another sip of vodka with a sip of soda. - We are leaving the day after tomorrow. It is unlikely that you will control the situation from Kiev. And do you need it?
He stood up, stretched with pleasure and finished:
- So stop chasing it, Andrey. Two days and we’re home. We’ll get drunk on the way, - and as he was leaving, he stopped and, looking slyly at Andrey, said: - I look at you and am amazed. So you personally go to captures, you’ve been in battles, you’re not afraid of blood. And then suddenly you break like a virgin... Sometimes I’m simply amazed at you.
- So this means that I haven’t become a complete bastard.
- Eh, that’s not possible in our office. If you don’t, they’ll eat you. Or you'll get drunk from boredom. Okay, I’ll go to the city and say goodbye to the cops, - Slava winked slyly.
- Just don't say goodbye too much. It wouldn’t be good to get into trouble at the very end.
After Slava left, Andrey went about his routine work when his smartphone beeped subtly, notifying him of the arrival of a Telegram message.
Center wrote:
“Andrey, I understand that in the end there is no need to strain. But the leadership asks you to collect as much information as possible about the strength and weapons of sector “M”. You’ve already given this before, but now we need to refresh it and clarify it as much as possible.”
Andrey chuckled and wrote back:
“What, are we actually going on the offensive?”
"Don't know. Everyone is informed at the required level. Will you do it?”
"Will try. I'll let you know in the evening."
Andrey had an idea on how to get the necessary information. In “Ascetic’s” office, where management meetings were held twice a day, a map of the sector hung on the wall. At the bottom of the map, details of all forces and assets of the sector, from personnel to armored vehicles, were clearly written out. All that remained is to wait for the meeting and quietly copy everything into the notebook.
The meeting proceeded as usual. Andrey listened with half an ear to the speakers and the general, carefully writing down the information.
“The total number of forces is 2,120 people, of which the Armed Forces of Ukraine are 830 (8 and 23 Territrorial defence units). BTR-70 – 12 units, BRDM-2 – 10 units. Mortars 120 mm – 8 units, ZU 23-2 – 14 units... Anti-tank reserve: 80 people “Dnepr” battalion - 120 RPG-26...”
Andrey wrote down everything that was on the map. At night, all this information went to the Center.