— I agree… Well go that way… Penalized….
Bolotnikov turned slowly in that direction and, keeping his hands up, walked in the direction indicated. There seemed to be no chance of escaping — his escort had deliberately lagged behind by six or seven steps, so that there would be time to shoot, both in case of an attempt to escape and in case of an attempt to seize his weapon.
— Do you know who the jackal snitched to? — Bolotnikov suddenly had an idea of how to fix or at least change the situation.
Slouch was silent and only breathed back occasionally.
— He knocked the plagues from the SCK. — Bolotnikov replied, turning his head slightly and noticing the enemy out of the corner of his eye.
— What?!
— Yes, yes, to the chums from the SCK… — the major stopped and turned back a little. — He said he had no choice….
— What fucking choice?! These bitches snitch! Did he get a bad fucking meal here?
— He wasn't complaining about the food, you know… He was in the shit and he wanted to get out of it. You know, everybody protects your own skin more than somebody else's.
— So what? BCC's gonna help him out?
— You see, it didn't work. But somehow he wasn't too upset. He wouldn't even smoke. He said I smoked mine a long time ago…
Slouchy laughed and lowered the machine gun altogether:
— That asshole gave me the smokes. We used to be together. Only he went upstairs, and I didn't think I'd say anything. You know, he's a brave guy without epaulets. He's braver than a lot of fancy men. It ain't my thing to chase rank. But when we were young, he bet me a carton of cigarettes. And that was expensive for him. Very expensive, bitch. Ha-ha-ha. So he got upset. And he says, "I'm not fucking smoking anymore." Like he can't afford to buy any more. And then he quit altogether… And here's this dandy who says he's already smoked his own. Ha-ha… Well, on the other hand, at least he didn't completely deceive you. I was the one who fooled him with that block. Ha-ha-ha-ha.
He laughed so hard, folding himself in half sometimes, that he involuntarily came closer and closer. And at some point it finally seemed that it was possible to take advantage of it. Bolotnikov rushed forward and sharply raised his fist upward, hitting him squarely in the apple of his eye. The stooped man fell to the ground… That's what happened, and the Shakal helped him….
Swampy tied the hands of the Hivi fighter with his own belt, then took the laces off his boots and tied their feet together. Then he examined his pockets, and there was nothing particularly interesting or unexpected: ammunition, two F-1 grenades, ammunition, a Makarov pistol, cigarettes and a notebook, which contained debts, apparently card debts, judging by the fact that there were tambourines, hearts, crosses, spades, as well as the names of games opposite the surnames: goat, borax, preference. It seems that the Jackal not only lost to him, but lost at katran, that is in a game where cheats know each other, and play on who will cheat whom better. Logically, after such a defeat, he stopped smoking altogether.
Still, it was time to see what was near the sector. This time the Major moved more cautiously, and several times he spotted hives in secluded places, carefully avoided them, and continued on toward the main administration building. It was getting closer and closer. The moonlit night perfectly illuminated the outlines and some silhouettes of the moving objects around the largest structure.
Finally, he was ready to look through the binoculars with full confidence that he would find the plague, when he noticed that the binoculars were broken. On the one hand it was broken, and on the other, apparently, the lens inside was deformed, because when he tried to look through it, only darkness appeared. This is not good. It had all started to go wrong somehow, back when he'd been taken captive for a few minutes by that slouchy guy. It would be dangerous to come any closer right now — he'd be in plain sight as he approached the mesh fence that enclosed the sector from the rest of the world. And there's a way back. And all this for what? Just to see? No, it's too risky.
Bolotnikov looked a little more at the silhouettes in the distance, tried to recognize them as plagues rather than people, more inclined to believe that they were plagues. And moved back. At least there was still a bound slouch who could still tell something. At least he should know something about the plagues — are they still in the administration with Ananhr, or is it just the people led by the Mountain?
Although, of course, it should be recognized that Zubrilov was already right about something. After all, now he met first of all the hewis, not the plagues. And even if they guard only the outer perimeter, it does not cancel the fact that people are already involved in all this. The hewi are covering for the prefect. That's a fact. And there's more than enough of them around. Then it's just a question of the speed at which their relations with each other will gain momentum… The two companies that were here and ambushed the railroad trains were also eliminated by the Hiwis. And the speed with which they did it may well indicate that Gora helped them in some way… He's no longer in alliance with us. He's at best playing a part, and at worst he's actually part of the plague empire, not going to do anything about it because he's already happy with it. Here are two possibilities, and one is cooler than the other…..
Bolotnikov in such thoughts finally reached the place where he had left the bound stooped man only 30 minutes ago. Or did he think this was the place? No, it looked like that, and even there was a shoelace lying there… He came closer, bent down and there was a long shoelace from his shoe….
— You fucking ace of diamonds…" he heard from behind, and the major immediately lost consciousness.
***
— Penalty Major Bolotnikov…" he heard from somewhere far away, and the rebel opened his eyes. He felt the cold steel on his hands, and the fact that he was chained to the wall with his hands tightened behind his back. The room was quite dark, but there were two men in front of him of good visibility.
— You see, he woke up right away. — he said to the stooped man who had just stood next to
him.
-
Where did you put my debt notebook? — The slouchy one asked at once.
Bolotnikov blinked and honestly tried to remember which way he'd thrown it back after
looking at it, but failed:
— I don't remember. I threw it away.
— Fucking somewhere…" the slouching man grumbled, but it was even a little odd that he wasn't as upset as he was supposed to be at such a loss. — What do you need it for, anyway? You looked at it, saw that it was nothing interesting, and put it back… Or did you see your debts there?
— My debts are not here…" the Major replied somehow sadly.
— We know that without you… Okay, we've been talking too much… — said the first, and apparently the main one of them. — Tell us why you came to us. Did you want to kill someone? Blow up what? With what? Who else knows you're here? Where are you from?
— I came to see the plagues, that's why I'm here.
— Chumov? You know, kill whoever you want. Ananhr?
— No… Not to kill. Looked at the chums. The two chiwis laughed a little.
— There's no arguing about taste. — said the slouchy one to his commander.
— Well? Did you see it? — asked the chief.
— I don't know. It was far away… I wanted to see that they were guarding something here.
Not just the chiwis. It hurts us to think that the Mountain is no longer our ally, but the chiwis'. And the more plagues I saw, the less doubt I'd have about the Mountain… And I didn't see any plagues….