The Hot Summer Of Mariupol. Chapter 5
After the first week, it began to seem to Andrei that he had been sitting at this airfield for several months. The bustle of the first days slowly subsided and turned into a routine, if you can call that the bloody moloch of the civil war, in one of the epicenters of which Andrei was.
A border battle raged in the north. And while Ukrainian troops were blocking the border with Russia, the encirclement around Donetsk and Lugansk began to gradually tighten.
New “books” were constantly added to the “Library”. And now the employees of the SBU group gradually began to use torture during interrogations, even when there was no need for it. Not to mention what the representatives of “Dnepr” or the local counterintelligence did... Complete lawlessness and impunity, as well as the tacit consent and even approval of the leadership, gave a free hand to the “fighters for the independence and freedom of the great nation.” Illegal detentions, torture, looting, robberies, violence, murders became part of this civil war, which was called the ATO...
Contrary to expectations, “Italian” did not approach with “commercial issues”. But more often he began to throw out interesting information about the whereabouts of various separatists, members of election commissions at the DPR referendum, and Donbass militia fighters.
Andrey also did not sit idly. He established a simple intelligence network among military personnel of the National Guard and the Armed Forces of Ukraine, and also received information from local colleagues. He forwarded all interesting information to the Center. Thus, information was sent to Moscow about the size of battalions “Dnepr” and “Azov” with the identification data of the fighters, about planned measures to strengthen the border with the involvement of new units from Ukraine, about plans to clear the Donetsk suburb of Maryinka...
This information, by the way, fell into his hands by accident.
The next day after talking with the Azov intelligence chief, Maxim, the reconnaissance group commander, called him on his phone. They met and subsequently began to communicate.
Until the spring of 2014, Maxim was a police captain in the Sevastopol UBNON[1]. After the return of Crimea to Russia, without hesitation he went to Ukraine and joined the newly formed Azov battalion. What struck Andrey: Max was a native Sevastopol resident, madly loved his city, but hated Russia, which, in his opinion, “just grabbed Crimea.”
Max differed from other Azov fighters in his disdain for all kinds of illegal seizing and looting. He was only interested in war. He spent days in no man's land, conducting surveillance and capturing prisoners. Moreover, his group never brought a single prisoner to the “Library”. When asked “why,” he simply answered: “Why should I bother with them? I find out what I want and buried them.” Andrey mentally shuddered and asked:
- What do you mean “bury them”? These are also our citizens, aren’t they?
- You did not understand? The war is on. This is not ATO. And only by harsh methods can we quickly end this war. Because otherwise it will drag on, and then we’re screwed.
During his next visit, Maxim told Andrey how he penetrated Donetsk itself.
- This was back in early July. We dug in near one of the waste heaps. I had shorts, a clean T-shirt, and a cap in my backpack. I changed my clothes and went into the city. I kept in touch with my people by phone. I went out to the bus stop. I bought a bottle of beer at the kiosk. I was sitting and drinking it, looking at where the “separatists” were fortifying themselves on waste heaps, where they occupied buildings, and who was driving past. There was a car coming around the corner, a cop patrol. Well, the DPR police. They stopped and both cops came to me. “Good afternoon, your documents”, well, the whole thing.
- Did you have any documents with you?
- What documents? – Maxim took a sip of tea and continued. - In short, I took out my gun and killed both of them. Then I had to leave quickly. I didn’t even have time to pick up their guns. I only tore off one chevron torn off the shoulder of one cop.
- Impressive, - muttered Andrey, - I can’t even believe it. Like in the movies.
- Yeah, - Max nodded. - Complete James Bondism.
- So, no remorse? You are a cop yourself, albeit a former one.
“Azov” man looked into Andrey’s eyes.
- These are enemies. What remorse? Let them go to Russia. No one would have killed them then.
During the conversation, Maxim began to present the information he had received about Maryinka. Then they had to go to the headquarters to link his story to the map. And in the reception room at that moment there was Oleshchenko, who was swearing at the duty officer at the headquarters to for some mess-up.
Maxim Oleshenko got very interested in the story. Afterwards the scout showed and told everything in the office to the commander himself, indicating the positions of the militia and the ways to approach them covertly.
- Chief of Staff! Got it? Prepare this in the form of an intelligence report and have it signed by me. We need to send it to Kramatorsk today. In the near future, our people are preparing to clean up Maryinka, and this information will be very useful to them...
- And a copy for me, please, - Andrey interrupted. – If possible, in electronic form. I also have to report to my management. In the end, it was me who brought Maxim to you, - Andrei smiled at the National Guard.
- Fine. Let the SBU officers also have a copy, - Oleshchenko waved his hand.
That same evening, an intelligence report with information about the upcoming attack on Maryinka went to the Center...
There were also funny moments.
One hot morning, when none of the group had set out on trips yet, Andrey’s radio station exploded with a cry: “Alarm!”
The group's employees immediately became wary when they heard an increase in noise in the camp. Looking out onto the porch, they watched in bewilderment as the “Dnepr” fighters, who had previously been imposingly smoking in the sun, disappeared into the airport terminal.
- Damn, looks like something serious! Why are you standing? Run and get geared up and follow me! According to the combat schedule, we must arrive at headquarters as the commander's reserve! – Andrey rushed to his room to put on his gear.
A couple of minutes later, the lathered SBU officers rushed in a crowd towards the headquarters. Before their eyes, the base was unfolding into a battle formation - all the trenches were occupied by soldiers in armored vehicles and helmets. The ZU 23-2 crews [2]were already spinning their guns with might and main, and the BRDM[3] on duty was moving to a position at the checkpoint.
When the group ran up to the control tower, at the entrance to it they saw Oleshenko in an armored vehicle, wearing a helmet and with a machine gun, who was yelling at the chief of staff:
- Motherfucker! What kind of intelligence is this?! Where is the information? How can I meet these tanks!?
- Comrade General, the SBU task force responded to the “alarm” signal... - Andrey began.
- Leave me alone, Andrey, there’s no time for you now. Occupy your trench and wait for instructions, - Oleshchenko waved him off and ran into the building.
- Yes, a running general causes laughter in peacetime, but in wartime it causes horror and panic, - Pyshny drawled, dumbfounded and a little scared.
- I didn’t think that I would ever see confirmation of this phrase in real life,- Slava responded, also without joy in his voice.
- So, get into the trench. Our “Beavers” are already there, only their helmets are sticking out. And I am going upstairs to find out what the fuss is about.
The atmosphere in Oleshchenko’s office was tense. The commander yelled obscenities into the receiver of his mobile phone. Andrey put the assault rifle on a chair and quietly asked Kozenkov:
- Ruslan, what happened?
He, without turning his head, answered in a whisper:
- Well, 15 minutes ago a mobile patrol reported that a column of tanks was moving along the highway from Berdyansk towards Mariupol. Looks like Russians.
- What?! – Andrey stared at him, dumbfounded. – Where could Russian tanks come from there?
- The general is sure that they have broken through from Crimea.
- Nonsense... And what, no one noticed them, how they broke out of Crimea and passed through the entire Zaporozhye region?
- Ask something easier. You see how nervous the situation is here... - Ruslan said ironically, trying not to be heard by the management.
At this moment, the chief of staff looked up from the phone and said:
- Intelligence is in touch. Looks like it’s our tanks. But for some reason they are coming without flags. So they didn’t understand right away.
- Fu.....! - Oleshenko burst into terrible profanity. - Are they completely out of their fucking minds! And I already gave the command to the checkpoint with grenade launchers... Fucking morons!
The commander raged for several more minutes. Andrey realized that the general was simply scared and was now giving vent to his emotions.
After some time the situation became clearer. It turned out that the 30th mechanized brigade was heading to the ATO zone to strengthen the group of Ukrainian troops near Saur-Mogila. Why the headquarters of the Armed Forces of Ukraine did not inform the headquarters of sector “M” remains a mystery...
Naturally, information about the redeployment of the 30th Brigade immediately became known in Moscow.
Andrey made an interesting contact in the Zaporozhye territorial battalion of the Ukrainian Armed Forces. The fighters there were partly conscripted and partly volunteers. All adults, already grown men with completely civilian professions. And one of these fighters who approached Andrey turned out to be a former system administrator. Out of old habit, he monitored social networks and news sites.
- You see, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, I am Barsukov, my first name is Sergei. Well, out of habit, I look for namesakes on social networks. And on one Donetsk website I find Barsukov, also Sergei. I wrote to him. It turned out that our fathers are from the same region - the Saratov region. In short, it may turn out that we are related.
- This is, of course, cool, - Andrey grinned, - but not interesting yet.
- So here we go. I correspond with this Sergei. It turns out that he is an officer in the Donbass militia. Signal captain.
- Oh! – Andrey got really interested. – Did you tell him that you were in the ATO?
- Yes. I even advised him to surrender. But he wrote that our people would immediately shoot him, since he had been fighting since April. And I can’t give him any guarantees.
- So, - Andrey mechanically rubbed his chin. - This is already quite interesting. What's next?
- Well, he also tried to persuade me to go over to their side. Moreover, he advised me what to say so that I wouldn’t be shot right away.
- And what is that?
- To say that we are working with Spartak from Donetsk and we need to immediately inform this Spartak.
- “Spartak”, “Spartak”... - Andrey thought feverishly. - Apparently there was such a call sign among them. Very interesting.
Andrey thought. By chance, he managed to get a source in the ranks of the DPR. Yes, and it seems like an unusual one - a militia captain. Of course, there was a chance that this Sergei Barsukov was just another armchair warrior. But something told Andrey that the information was hitting the spot...
- Listen, you're a computer geek. Can you check by IP address where he accesses the Internet from?
- Already done, - the fighter smiled condescendingly. – He does it from Donetsk.
- Then let’s do this. Continue contact with him. Try to get some information about him and his family. We'll have to identify him. Well, report all the information you get from him immediately.
- Got it, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel. Let's do it.
“This is how it happens. The counterintelligence department is struggling, looking for sources in the militia. And here a simple computer soldier finds one in his free time! Nothing short of a miracle...” thought Andrey, walking towards his room.
“However, we need to identify this guy and quickly shut his mouth. It’s good that this fighter came to me. And this would turn out to be a strong source for the real SBU. No, I won’t give such pleasure to my colleagues. In addition, the Center specifically aimed at this: the elimination of sources of information from the GUR [4]and the SBU...”
The next morning, Andrey received a call from Kharaberyush:
- Andrey, help me out! We detained a lady here. We need to work with her urgently.
- What kind of lady?
- Well, her husband is fighting against us near Donetsk. And she supplies him with information when she visits to him. We will work it out and make the case official afterwards.
- OK. Only, Sasha, no more than three days. She is a woman. The commander will be nervous.
– Got it, thanks. My people will bring her now.
Andrey pressed the end call button and looked at Pyshny.
- Vova, do you want to hit the town? They promised me an interesting contact there.
- Let’s go, - Vova agreed easily. - Why sit here? I have something to include in the daily summary. So we can just work for the soul.
They went to Mariupol, where a certain businessman from Donetsk made an appointment for them in one of the restaurants. The meeting was organized and the businessman was recommended by an old acquaintance of Andrey, who previously served in the Donetsk department of the SBU, but retired five years ago and was now a prosperous resident of Montenegro...
The businessman was waiting for them at the Golden Ducat restaurant, in the very center of the city, not far from the theater.
- Well, at least we’ll eat properly, - Vova stretched, getting out of the car. - By the way, did you take any money with you?
- No,- Andrei stopped. – I only have 50 hryvnia on me. I thought you took some.
- Great, - Vova was upset. – I also have 50 hryvnia. Okay, that's enough for coffee.
- Let's go, we'll sort it out there.
In the restaurant, located in the basement and stylized as the dungeons of a castle, they were met by the administrator and taken to a separate office.
A well-groomed man of about 40, dressed modestly, but clearly not poor, sat at the table. The Vacheron Constantin watch alone spoke volumes.
- Hello, gentlemen. My name is Aleksey. Are you Andrey? – he unmistakably identified the senior.
- Absolutely right, - Andrey shook hands with his interlocutor. – This is my colleague Vladimir.
- Very nice to meet you, - Pyshny, in turn, practiced his politeness.
- With your permission, I placed an order. How do you feel about the fish menu?
- You know, - Pyshny reacted instantly, - I’m so hungry now that I’ll even eat a sole of a shoe. There’s a lot of work, I didn’t even have time to have dinner, let alone breakfast.
- I understand, I understand, - Alexey became sad.
- Never mind. My colleague jokes like that. We will be happy to join your choice. Although, I must admit, there really is a lot of work, - Andrey said with an impenetrable face.
- Let me start my story so as not to waste time. Otherwise they’ll bring you hot food and there won’t be time for conversation, - Alexey smiled. - The fact is that I am the owner of the Liverpool hotel complex in Donetsk. There is also a nightclub there, but that doesn't matter. The hotel, naturally, has been practically empty since the events began. And it is located very well - right in the center of Donetsk. – Alexey sipped his coffee and continued.
- I myself was forced to leave Donetsk. I’m clearly not on the same path with these “Russian patriots”, - he emphasized the phrase with his intonation. - And all business operates within the Ukrainian legal framework. But all the employees work there and, of course, report everything to me. So here it is. A week ago, Alexander Boroday and Igor Strelkov checked into the hotel. I don't think you need me to explain who they are?
- No need, - Andrei answered briefly. - Continue.
- Great. I continue. Many of their companions moved in with them - security, secretaries, advisers and other hangers-on. They say there are several Russian citizens. In fact, they occupied the entire top floor. My people move freely around the hotel and can carry, for example, a beacon for our aviation to the roof of the building, - Alexei smiled subtly and fell silent.
- Wait... Do you mean an airstrike on your hotel? – Andrey clarified dumbfounded.
- Exactly. I just need to warn my people. Good people. They've been working for me for a long time. And they are quite good specialists.
- But in this case, your hotel will be destroyed. – Vova interjected.
- Yes, so be it. All the same, I will not return to Donetsk while those people are there. And after liberation, I’ll build a new one, - Alexey answered, smiling lightly.
– Well, I didn’t expect such an offer, - Andrey rubbed his forehead in slight confusion. – In any case, you understand that the decision on an airstrike is not made by us, not by our level.
- Of course. But you can quickly convey information to management. Let them make that decision. If the decision is made, all I need to do is deliver this beacon to my people and give the order.
- I think these are already technical issues. The main thing is the fundamental decision.
- I agree, - Alexey bowed his head affirmatively. - Oh, I see they are bringing our hot food. Shall we eat?
During the meal, everyone was silent. The businessman handled his utensils gracefully and clearly enjoyed the perfectly cooked fish. Andrey was turning over in his head possible options for reacting to this information and ate mechanically, practically without tasting the food.
- Tell me, - Vova asked when the waiter took away the empty dishes. – Surely there are other guests in the hotel?
- Practically none. Maybe one or two rooms at most.
- But we won’t be able to warn them about the strike. Otherwise there will be a leak.
- Yes, I thought about it. Well, something will have to be sacrificed. In general, I suggest striking at night, at about 3 o’clock. There will be a minimum of staff, and there will be no one in the cafe either. So there will be few innocent victims.
- But therey will be, - Andrey clarified affirmatively.
Alexey shrugged:
- Yes, of course. But we will try to keep not too many of them there. But what an opportunity - to take out the entire top of these bastards with one blow.
- It's true. You are right in this. Let's do it this way: we immediately report to Kiev. You must understand that such information must be kept strictly confidential. Otherwise nothing will work. Therefore, our leaders in Kiev will implement it very carefully. I think the solution will take 3-4 days.
- I thought so. Well, let's exchange phone numbers. I'll be waiting for your call.
They parted as quite good friends. Alexey suggested that one day they go to a nightclub where he knows the owner. Andrey did not refuse, but suggested that they first implement the information on Donetsk. With that they said goodbye.
- What do you think? – Vova asked, starting the car.
- Very interesting, - Andrey answered seriously. - But you have to do it very carefully. And let’s do it this way – even in our group, no one should know this. I will contact Kondratyuk directly and report to him.
- How will you get the info out? Will you call from the “Beavers” on KZ [5]? This way, the entire National Guard duty room will hear through the door...
- Exactly. We need to come up with something. – Andrey thought, looking at the road.
“This must be reported to the Center immediately! Because Ukros will strike with some “Tochka-U” [6], and the DPR will be without leadership...”
He had Kondratyuk’s direct number and the right to call directly in emergencies. Arriving at the base, he went out onto the tarmac, where no one was nearby, and made a call. The head of the DKR responded almost immediately.
- I wish you good health, Comrade General. This is Bulat from Mariupol.
- Yes, yes, hi. What's happened?
- Valery Vitalievich, there is very interesting information, I need to report it to you somehow.
- Well, call using KZ, what’s the problem? – Kondratyuk responded impatiently.
- The problem is that the KZ apparatus is kept by our signalmen, and in the next room there are always several officers of the National Guard. Through the door they will hear the content of the conversation.
- Even so? – the interlocutor thought for a few moments. – Listen, you have ATC’s “Couplet” there, right?
– I do.
- Let's do it this way. You can call back from him to the office room number 400, let’s say, - there was a short pause, - in 10 minutes. I'll go there.
- I'll do it. In 10 minutes.
- Fine.
Andrey stood still on the hot concrete, exposing his face to the hot rays. Then he decisively moved into their building.
- Vasya, get your unit ready, you need to urgently call room 400.
Lopatenko, who was lying with a book on his bed, perked up and jumped onto the floor.
- I'll check it now. I called in the morning, everything went fine. Here you are.
Andrey picked up the phone and heard the voice of the duty officer of the situational center of the SBU ATC, who was sitting in the office room 400 in the SBU building on Vladimirskaya street in Kiev.
- Good afternoon. It’s Mariupol callingg, senior of the group. The head of the DKR, General Kondratyuk, should come there.
- Yes, he just came in. Should I give him the phone?
- Of course, - Andrey looked up from the conversation and looked at Lopatenko. - Vasya, go out into the corridor and make sure that no one enters or even approaches the room. And close the door tighter. From the outside.
When the senior lieutenant left, Andrey continued:
- Valery Vitalievich?
- Yes, it’s me, - he heard a familiar voice. - Come on, tell me what happened to you.
Andrey briefly outlined the information received from the owner of The Liverpool Hotel. Kondratyuk listened attentively, practically without asking questions - there were always a lot of people in office 400.
- So, I understand you, Andrey Ivanovich. You know what, report this in encryption through our signalmen. Make it in my name, marked “personally.” Make sure that when they send it, they don’t look into the contents. Understood? Send it now.
- I understand, Comrade General, - Andrey answered.
He was just about to hang up when he heard on the phone:
- Well done. Great info. They weren't mistaken about you.
Half an hour later, Andrey was already sitting at the “Beavers” and watched as the senior signalman, the enormously fat and cheerful guy Lekha, sent an encrypted message to Kiev.
- What kind of secrets are they, Andrey? - asked another “Beaver” on duty.
- If you find out, I’ll have to shoot you, - Andrey answered with a serious face. - In the evening as usual?
In the evenings, he and Slava went to the signalmen to play cards.
- Yes. Around 8 o’clock, is that okay?
- Great.
Returning to his room, he quickly wrote a message to the Center, indicating that he had sent the information personally to the head of the DKR using heightened secrecy measures. He thought about it and took a photo of the encryption itself from the laptop screen and also sent it to the Center.
“It will be fun in Moscow now...”
In the evening, after another short meeting with the group and determining plans for tomorrow, Andreн and Slava headed to the “Beavers”.
- Now, we need to stop by the “Library,” Andrey said to his colleague.
- What the hell? – Torshin expressed his surprise in few words.
- Yes, today the local counters brought some kind of separatist, but they only left an hour ago. Kharaberyush called back and thanked me. We need to see what's there.
They were met at the “Library” by the duty officer.
- Hello, how are our prisoners doing?
- Everything is fine, Lieutenant Colonel. Just the new one that your guys brought today... - the fighter hesitated slightly.
- What's wrong?
- I put her in a separate cell. Alone. There are men sitting in the other one. So she is howling all the time, just like a wolf or a dog... I’ve already yelled at her, but she keeps howling. It's like she doesn't hear anything.
Andrey exchanged glances with Slava.
- Howling, you say? Well, let's see what kind of she-wolf is there. Take her to the interrogation room.
As soon as they were seated in the boiler room, the duty officer brought in the prisoner: a young woman, 27-30 years old, dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants, barefoot. On thin hands there were black marks from strong fingers - they grabbed the hands harshly...
Looking doomed, she did not sit down - she fell onto a chair, hunched over like an old woman. Long black hair covered his face in tangled tufts.
- Raise your head, - Andrey ordered.
The woman slowly raised her head. Her hair fell back, revealing a pleasant face with a distinct red mark on her left cheek. But Andrey’s attention was not attracted by the face, not by the noticeable mark of the blow... The eyes. Eyes in which an approaching madness was clearly splashing with such strength that Andrey involuntarily leaned back. Nearby, Slava sighed noisily through his teeth.
- What's happened? Why are you howling?
The woman was silent for a moment. She simply didn't seem to hear the question. Then her gaze focused on Andrey:
- Please, please let me make a call! I am begging you! Let me call, I'll do everything! I'll sign everything! I beg you!!! – the woman’s feverish whisper first broke into a scream.
- Quiet, quiet, - Andrey tried to calm the screaming woman. – Who do you want to call?
- I have a child left at home. I ran out to the store. And they detained me right at the entrance, on the street. And he's home alone! He is only 3 years old!!! – the woman did not speak feverishly, but blurted out words.
- Stop. Shut up, - Andrey interrupted her. - Did you tell those who detained you about the child?
The woman nodded her head frequently. Her eyes quickly filled with tears. Transparent streams fell down, laying light paths on dirty cheeks...
- They didn't listen. I even suggested to them that they conduct a search at my place. They just didn't listen. Everyone asked about my husband. I saw him a month ago. We only communicate by phone. I thought they’d go for a search, I’ll calm the child down, I’ll put him somewhere, - the woman whispered, straying from one subject to anther. –Let me call. I am begging you! You also have children...
Slava whispered in Andrey’s ear:
- They can't go on a search while she's here. A search is a procedural action, but here she is nobody and nowhere. It’s like she doesn't exist.
- Yes, that’s understandable, - Andrey whispered in the same way.
- Hey, listen, who did you want to call?
The woman shuddered and looked up at Andrey.
- My sister. My sister lives nearby. Sasha knows her well. She would take him with her, - she squeezed out with a faint glimmer of hope.
- Listen. I’ll now dial the number you say and turn on the speakerphone. You speak briefly and clearly. One word off topic - I’ll take away the phone and personally make sure you don’t get out of prison. Understood?
The woman nodded her head slightly, curling her trembling lips.
- Tell me the number.
After waiting for the caller to answer and hearing a woman’s voice, Andrey handed the phone to the prisoner:
- Remember what I said.
She feverishly grabbed the phone:
- Vita? Vita! It's me! Don't ask anything, just listen. Come to my place quickly, do you have the keys? Sasha is alone at home. Take him to your place immediately! Don't ask anything. Just take him with you! – the feverish patter of the detainee practically drowned out the voice of the other person. - Understood? Vita, I beg you. Hurry up. He's been alone since morning! Ok? Thank you...- Andrey took the phone.
The woman collapsed on a chair and began to cry desperately.
- Fuck... - Andrey clearly felt his face covered with sweat under the balaclava.
They were silent for some time. The woman sobbed less and less.
Finally she whispered:
- Thank you...
- Will she pick him up?
- Yes. She was already getting ready to go herself, she was worried... Now she'll take him. Everything will be OK. Everything will be fine... - the prisoner repeated more and more quietly.
- Listen... You understand, if anyone finds out that I let you call, I'll be in big trouble. Do you understand this?
The woman shook her head. She exhaled and looked up at Andrey with a completely meaningful look.
- Do not worry. I will not tell anyone.
- Well, okay. Actually, forget that we came. Do you want to drink?
The woman nodded, and Andrey handed her a bottle of mineral water that was standing by the table. Apparently, one of the interrogators forgot it.
- Who did you like that? – Andrey pointed to the bruise under her eye.
The woman smiled faintly:
- Who knows... You’re all wearing masks... All I realized was that it was a woman who was present at the interrogation. She hit me. She had long hair peeking out from under her mask. I fell to my knees in front of her and begged her to let me make a call. She said that she was also a mother. And she punched me in the face...
- Okay. It's time for us to leave.
They had already called the duty officer and went out into the corridor when the woman said:
- Thank you... I’ll get out and light a candle for you...
Andrey did not turn around. He didn't want to look into her eyes again. On the street, he pulled off his balaclava and breathed in the evening freshness.
– Fucking hell, - said Slava, who had been silent all this time.
- Totally... - Shevchenko agreed.
Then Andrey glanced sideways at Torshin:
- Slava... you are...
– Andrey, don’t even think about it. Nobody will find out, - Slava threw away his lit cigarette with a snap. - Do you have vodka?
They didn't play cards. They sat in Andrey’s room for a long time and silently drank vodka, eating some canned fish without bread...
[1] UBNON - Directorate for Combating Illicit Drug Trafficking.
[2] ZU-23-2 is an anti-aircraft gun consisting of two twin Soviet-made 23-mm aircraft guns (1960).
[3] BRDM is an armored reconnaissance and patrol vehicle.
[4] GUR is the main intelligence department of the armed forces of Ukraine.
[5] KZ – confidential communication, a type of closed communication system.
[6] “Tochka-U” is a Soviet-made tactical missile system (1989) with a firing range of up to 120 km.