where the bus had brought us, along this highway. From a distance, the military began to talk
uneasily about some kind of raid. And | suddenly noticed clouds of black smoke rising from
behind the trees to the very clouds. When two hundred meters remained to the fence of the
barracks of the town, suddenly one of the soldiers let out a groan and fell down dead. The
senior officer immediately reacted with the command:
– Get down, sniper! – and collapsed on the asphalt. | glanced at the lying officer. His body was
pounding in death throes. The soldiers silently continued to lie on the carriageway. Something
had to be done. | pulled my travel bag, where | had hidden a white shirt, unzipped it and took
out my underwear, grabbed the shirt. Lying raised high above his head, waving like a white flag
in the air. Then he stood up and looked around. From all sides we were surrounded by
submachine gunners in full combat equipment, through the unbuttoned lapels of a camouflage
uniform, each one could see a vest.
– Hands up! – commanded one of the approached, – Follow me!
From his insignia, it became clear to me that this was a Russian airborne assault reconnaissance
company that had captured the Belo Tserkovsky Fighter Aviation Regiment. Territorial defense
soldiers who had surrendered, after checking their documents, were locked in a disguised
hangar, while | was brought to the commander in another hangar. A military man with the stars
of a lieutenant colonel sat at the table and looked at me with interest. After a moment of
silence he asked:
– Do you have anything to explain your personality? – Curiosity flickered in his serious eyes.
– That's right, Comrade Lieutenant Colonel! – | blurted out and put on the table the
appointment of the military registration and enlistment office folded into four and a military ID.
The lieutenant colonel unfolded the folded sheet, read it carefully, leafed through the entries in
the military ID.
– Um, you served in the aviation school for foreign students in Kant, Kyrgyzstan, under Major
General Makarov, right?
– Yes sir! – | blurted out, – And when he flew in with an inspection to us in Kant, he liked to fly a
plane under my maintenance.
– In connection with what, such an honor to you, Baran Valentin Yurievich?
– lam an engineer by profession, a lieutenant, arrived at the base of the school with a high-