The garrison was quiet. Relative calm on the fronts brought regularity to the life of the military.
Kai spent the second day in Bartholomew’s tent.
He was reclining on a soldier’s bunk with a pillow under his back. He was wearing a protective military uniform, casually buttoned up with several bottom buttons. In the open neckline, one could see an undershirt and cross glittering on a chain. Camouflage trousers were tucked into rough army boots. Kai put one foot on the bed to make it easier to play the guitar.
They drank, taking advantage of the moment of calm the second day. It was rare. They were lucky.
Kai ran his fingers over the strings once again. The guys at the table looked in his direction.
“Come on, give us ours,” – said Pepper. “What are you pulling?”
In the tent, in addition to Kai’s acquaintances, there were many officers – those who were admitted here from other units.
The news that Kai was also with Bartholomew made everyone happy: he always told the news about which they had not even heard, and it was interesting to talk with Kai, so everyone almost came to Bartholomew with gifts, so that only he would let in and allow staying.
It was the second day of such gatherings. Some people came, others left.
Now, towards the morning, there were fewer people in the tent. Someone was lying on the beds, someone was sitting at the table, on which there was still seas of snacks and drinks. Empty bottles rolled underfoot, which the most conscientious ones picked up and took to the trash.
In general, the picture did not correspond to army discipline. All were not dressed according to the regulations: tunics unbuttoned, many were simply in T-shirts. They smoked here. The canopy of the tent was folded back to let in the morning freshness and to get rid of some smoke.
Kai took a drag and put out his cigarette. Once again he ran his hand over the strings. The lad remembered that he had not played the guitar for a long time. He half-closed his eyes and slightly bowed his head to the strings, because of which a rebel lock fell on his handsome face; in a low, incredibly beautiful voice, he sang:
“The order came – and on an alarm, we get up.
Taking the machine gun, we sit down silently on the plane.
In the dawn hour, when the earth is still sleeping,
We were brought to Afghanistan by the will of the order.
Afghanistan is a beautiful wild mountainous land,
The order is simple: go ahead and die.
But how is it possible, spring has been in the yard for a long time,
And the heart is full of sadness and bitterness.
Afghanistan – a machine gun rumbles somewhere
Afghanistan … A platoon of boys died yesterday.
Their commander fell to the ground with lead in his chest,
“Russia, Mother” – he whispered before his death.”
His voice trembled slightly. He fell silent, having stopped playing. There was silence. Everyone was also silent; those who first heard him singing were amazed by such a voice.
“Should I pour you a drink?” Bartholomew realized that Kai remembered something of his own, was thinking. And he had something to remember: so many years in the war.
“Pepper, pass him a glass. Should I give you a snack?”
Kai drank the already warm vodka in one gulp.
“No,” he said, then bent over the guitar, as if squeezing it, then leaned back on the pillow. He also continued with half-closed eyes:
“It’s a Beautiful wild mountainous land
The order is simple: go ahead and die.
But how is it possible, spring has been in the yard for a long time,
And the heart is full of sadness and bitterness.
My friend fell, his beautiful face covered in blood
He was dying away from mother earth.
The last time looking into foreign skies …”
“Great! It gives the creeps!” – Pepper was always unrestrained and expressed his emotions violently.
“Why are you singing this? Do you like tearing your soul out with memories?” Frol stared at Kai, who was still reclining on the bed.
“I do not care. There are no memories! For a long time already there is nothing.”
“Do you like to play the hero? You are cool, of course, we are no match for you, and you don’t even have memories! Willpower is great! And we have, we are no match for you, oh great Kai, our superhero!” finally losing his temper, shouted Frol, enraged with the words of Kai, again finding a reason to grapple.
Kai jumped out of bed, tossing the guitar away. Frol got up from the table with a crash, threw up his hand sharply, hitting Kai in the solar plexus. The blow was weak: Frol was drunk and poorly coordinated his movements. Kai grabbed the table but immediately regained consciousness, catching his breath.
Between them, instantly assessing the situation, Bartholomew arose.
“Stand down, officers!” Bartholomew said in a commanding voice. “What are you doing? Have you drunk completely?” he looked at Frol, seething with anger.
“Why are you doing that, Frol? I’m sorry if you really think I’m no match for you. You are my friend!” there was no offense in Kai’s voice for the blow. He wanted, really wanted, that peace reigned between them. What a pity that Frol constantly finds fault with something.
In order not to annoy Frol with his presence, Kai went to the exit from the tent.
“Wait, where are you going?” asked Bartholomew.
“To my place.”
“Torpedo, cut off the exit, return this superhero to his place,” ordered Bartholomew.
The huge torpedo completely blocked the exit from their tent with its mighty figure. The military jersey did not hide his powerful biceps, which were now swollen with exertion.
Pepper stood behind Kai’s back, he was slightly lower than Torpedo, but also resembled a closet. There were two hefty paratroopers and between them Kai, who looked like a short, thin teenager.
He definitely didn’t want to fight them, although he could put them on the shoulder blades in a split second. Now he wanted to leave: he was touched by Frol’s words and his behavior. It was always unpleasant for him to realize that everyone considered him different, special. But what was he to blame? He just did his job – he fought and that was it.
Taking advantage of Kai’s momentary confusion, Torpedo and Pepper pounced on him and, practically on their hands, returned him to his place.
“Sit here,” said, smiling, Torpedo, “no f****** thing to suffer! Frol drank too much, with whom it does not happen.”
Kai, realizing that it was foolish to resist, remained sitting on the bed.
Silence hung in the tent, no one else interfered with this showdown.
Major Batulin appeared at the entrance.
“Well, what’s going on here? Have you got drunk and put up a fight?” Major managed to catch the end of the showdown between Kai and Frol.
All who were in the tent jumped up to attention.
“At ease,” the major looked around the audience. “Well, what a state, officers. Just a rabble,” he sighed. “Bartholomew, Kai, urgently to the headquarters, everyone has already gathered there, there is a task. Put yourself in order. I’m waiting in the car.”
“What has happened? Why did he come at an unearthly hour?” said Torpedo, watching as Kai and Bartholomew put their uniforms in order.
“We’ll find out now,” said Bartholomew, leaving the tent.
When they entered the headquarters, everyone had already gathered there. In addition to the colonel and his assistants, there was a company intelligence captain Denis Vladimirovich Davydov, nicknamed Gusar, with two officers, and battalion commander Petrenko Sidor Ivanovich, nicknamed Sidr, with his men.
“Have a seat, officers,” the colonel gestured everyone to sit down at the table.
“Somehow the main characters don’t look fresh?” he reproachfully looked at Kai and Bartholomew.
He heard that Bartholomew’s tent had been reveling for the second day, and now he saw from their faces and appearance that the guys had a good rest.
Kai, out of habit, reached into his pocket for cigarettes.
“I forbid smoking,” the colonel said sternly.
“Do you have soda or beer for the guys, otherwise it’s a pity to look at them,” the always cheerful Cider joked.
The Colonel turned a deaf ear to the joke and got to the point of collecting them. It turned out that a gang of Mujahideen descended into the valley and began to nightmare a peaceful village. The task of Bartholomew’s group was: by coordinating actions with reconnaissance and infantry in the person of the battalion commander Petrenko, push back the jihadis from the villages in the valley and drive them into the mountains. The gang is large, but, sensing the hunt, it will go to the mountains. There was no order to destroy them, only to scare them, let them get out.
The plan is simple, reconnaissance will give accurate data on which village they are in, the battalion commander arranges a noisy attack, and Kai and Bartholomew with their guys take three armored personnel carriers and drive the retreating to the mountains.
It was necessary to act immediately. The APCs should be at the checkpoint by ten in the morning. In the morning, the spirits do not wait for an attack, they are relaxed, and so they should not miss the time for a surprise.
Kai managed to drop in to change his clothes. He put on a bulletproof vest, a helmet, weighed himself with a weapon and wrapped an Arab scarf on top, knowing how dusty it would be on the road and in the valley. If you breathe through a scarf, much less sand will get inside.
Oh, this sand! How he hated it! It was everywhere, and in addition to it, there was also the scorching sun!
An APC drove to take him. Bartholomew and Frol were in one APC, Torpedo and Ivan were in another, and Kai and Pepper were in the third. Kai assumed control. Pepper kept in touch by radio and coordinated his movements.
They were already close to the point of arrival. Suddenly, in front of them, they saw an armored Mercedes and a jeep, the way of which was blocked on both sides by the cars of the militants and the fighting people.
“Kai, how do you hear?” the radio hissed. It was Bartholomew.
“I hear you!”
“Ahead Mujahideen are polishing off the Japs. We seem to be friends with the Japs now. Maybe to help the cross-eyed?”
“Let’s help, otherwise they are trapped,” Kai also realized that the armored vehicle belongs to the Japanese, by the flag.
Torpedo’s armored personnel carrier, at full speed, crashed into the militants’ car and pushed it into the abyss. Kai did the same with the second car. The armored personnel carrier of Bartholomew poured fire on the bandits fleeing into the mountains.
To make it easier to fire at the people running up the mountain, Kai and the guys got out of the armored personnel carriers and climbed onto the armor of the vehicles. They fired at the retreating jihadis in automatic bursts, they stood off, but heavy fire and the factor of surprise played a decisive role in the battle, the enemy retreated. Pepper and Torpedo “poured” them in long bursts, knowing that in the crowd the bullets would reach their target.
Kai shot aiming while keeping everything that happened under control. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the sight of the gun aimed at Frol.
He fired first, saw the jihadi fall from the stone on which it had been standing.
Soon the shots died down. Bartholomew finished off several writhing bodies on the slope with control. Judging by the scattered corpses, hardly anyone managed to escape.
Bartholomew turned to the Japanese, who were standing at the Mercedes, looking at their saviors. For them, everything that had happened was a complete surprise.
In good English, Bartholomew said:
“I’m glad we made it on time. I hope no one was seriously injured among you. You can go. Don’t linger here.”
Kai’s armored personnel carrier stood practically in front of the doors of an armored Mercedes. Kai sat down on the armor, put down his machine gun, rummaging in his pockets for cigarettes.
One of the Japanese opened the back door of the Mercedes, the others bowed respectfully. A tall young man with a not entirely Japanese appearance got out of the car, but slightly more than a European’s slanting eyes betrayed his belonging to this nation. He looked about thirty, maybe less. He was dressed like in a Japanese engraving: harem pants tucked into boots, a kimono, a silk belt, and swords at the waist. He was handsome with an enigmatic oriental beauty.
Glancing attentively at all those present, he turned to Bartholomew in almost pure English with words of gratitude.
After listening to him, Kai replied in perfect Japanese:
“You need to be more careful! You shouldn’t ride here with such a few guards.”
Everyone turned to Kai, who, having said this, finally found cigarettes and lit one.
The tall Japanese man stared at Kai without stopping, and then answered also in Japanese:
“You speak my language perfectly. I will take your advice into account. Thanks for the help. My name is Toyami Takeru.” He bowed and gazed into Kai’s eyes.
“Gray eyes, it is surprising for Japanese,” Kai thought.
The radio next to him hissed.
“Guys, Cidr is driving them, where are you?” came from it.
Kai replied:
“We’ll be there in twenty minutes!”
“Have you heard? Turmoil has already begun there! That’s all we need,” he shouted to the guys.
Already getting into the car, he turned to Toyami and said in the same Japanese:
“It was nice to meet you, but I can’t chat: we will have fun in another place.”
His armored personnel carrier jerked off.
Toyami remained standing, watching the cars leaving in the distance along the road.
He was amazed. Hearing from a Russian – yes, he was definitely a Russian, such a perfect pronunciation! This young man amazed him. Such aristocratic features and such eyes – they were like precious emeralds, fascinated, flashing green lights.
“He is very young, much younger than me. I don’t even know his name. “
As if reading his thoughts, Isoa, standing next to him, said:
“This is Kai.”
“Oh, yes, many told some mythical stories about his military exploits,” he thought. Though, now he was ready to believe in their plausibility, having seen how he famously shot the fleeing bandits. But he could not imagine that Kai looked like that and so young.
Toyami gave the order to go: it was really dangerous to stay here.
All the way, thoughts about this young man did not leave him.
“Yes exactly! I’ve heard so much about him, but I’ve never given it any importance. They say that Kai is excellent with a sword, he has no equal in this. And these stories are about his heroism! It seems he has been here for a long time. But why? What keeps him here? Does he like it all? How many questions at once I would like to ask him!”
Toyami smiled: “I would like to ask – looking into those green eyes …”
He listened to himself: a strange feeling, he hadn’t felt it for a long time – a desire to see someone again.
He became indifferent to everyone. He learned and experienced a lot over the years, gradually losing interest in everything. Rather, he just lived: he did his job well, in his free time he met with friends and allowed himself to be entertained as he wanted.
Where does this desire come from now in him again?
Toyami turned to the window, looking out at the flickering dusty landscape.
“I’ll see you again, Kai!”
