Night, first aid kit and moon.
22.oct.2120 Local time 23:30.Fortified area "Kornilovo-AMALGAMA FFX75" КANAR.
If last week the slush underfoot froze with the onset of darkness, now warm nights have come and the mud constantly stuck to the feet, noticeably weighing down the shoes. The cold also finished him off, not taking on any more serious nature, which would open up the possibility for Dragovich to lie around in the hospital for a couple of days or just in the warmth.
Here and there the lighting snatched patches of dug up fields and scurrying people from the darkness. The equipment, driven together, like the people, from all over the region, roared. As for the people, the command finally began to bring in the newcomers en masse, who had been motivated so far only by persuasion, telling them how important it was for them to defend the republic that had given them refuge.
- The fuel will run out and everything will stop for us, - said a slovenly-looking man, who, as far as Dragovich knew, was a professional builder.
- Continue manually, - Dragovich answered coldly.
- That's not right, - the builder answered with caution in his voice.
- I know, - Dragovich answered indifferently. - I wonder what OMSDON would say about this? - he added.
- Yes, sir, we'll continue manually, - the man answered. - I just want to draw attention to the issue of fuel...
- There are people who can do this, and it's not me, - Dragovich answered a little more amiably.
To the right of the dirt road, along which Dragovich and the builder were making their way along the mud ridges, people were busy in the light of the blinding lamps. These workers were sorting out wooden sleepers that had been dumped in a heap and dragging them somewhere into the darkness.
Suddenly, the rhythmic hum of the field teeming with workers was broken by some incoherent shouts and then someone's obscene cries. Everything was hidden from view, since it was happening somewhere behind a pile of earth located on the left side of the road. The shouts and swearing did not subside, when suddenly a shot rang out and everything became quiet.
- That Shit! - said the man.
- They'll figure it out. Most likely someone fired a shot into the air, - answered Dragovich.
- Yes, that's understandable.
- Is everything okay with your detachment?
- Yes, of course, - the man spread his hands. - Nothing like that with us... I wonder what happened there?
The man didn't get an answer to his question, however, neither did Dragovich - when the long dump finally ended, there was nothing interesting happening on the illuminated area broken up behind it - it was just in vain that they climbed out of the road into the grass to take a look.
Having quickly inspected the infantry fortifications being set up in the northern section, Dragovich left the builder and his unit alone and headed for the town. Overhead, another plane began to hum, most likely an air defense unit of the bloc's forces. By and large, these forces didn't really care about what was happening here, on the territory of the "triple-S-F", during the last few months of growing tension.
- It's still an amazing thing, - Dragovich began to think once again. - A big war is going on in parallel with a bunch of independent conflicts, and everything is as if nothing had happened. Has this ever happened in world history, or is humanity going crazy, and this is its end? And what will happen then? In a thousand years, new conquerors will gallop here on horseback again and history will begin anew? New development? No, that won't work - we've spent the oil, and the savage people of the future won't have reactors... It would be good not to think about it, but to talk about it with friends and with a bottle or two on the table... However, Dragovich was already drunk from a cold and malaise, without any "gurgling".
A couple of hours ago, he heard the news that the parliament building was completely blocked by internal troops, and the high-rise building, which housed several ministries, was now beyond repair - the building had been stormed. It was hard to say whether it was a fake. Photos of the smoking skeleton of the skyscraper were already available, but they were just photos, not even videos. In recent days, the flow of disinformation emanating from the capital had acquired some incredible proportions and a phantasmagoric character. The world's mass media also picked up on this crap, although it was obvious that if the media networks wanted to carry out a conscientious verification and filtering of messages, they would have coped with this task. What was reliably known was how the OMSDON officers stationed in the neighboring Novosibirsk region and other evil spirits had managed to show themselves. If the behavior of the mobilizers going to the big front still had some explanation, understanding of the reasons, and even the admission of their own similar behavior in their place, then these, who were not threatened by the horrors of the big front, looked like the most ordinary bandits and caused disgust. It is noteworthy that in this they quite played up to the motivation of those preparing for defense.
East of the SSSF Another OMSDON contingent, similar in numbers and morale, was dragged into the Krasnoyarsk Territory. They were supposed to attack the right-bankers. A distinctive detail of the developing situation was that the confrontation of both banks, the SFS and the КANAR, had died down for a while. Of course, it was unlikely that the right-bankers and left-bankers would end up in the same trench, but there definitely shouldn't have been any usual provocations from the right bank now, as there hadn't been since the end of the summer.
The town, which consisted of two rows of trailers and several tent blocks, was lively. It was always lively here, day and night. Some were taken away, some were brought in. On the parade grounds, every now and then, another officer would rattle off all these speeches that were supposed to motivate the new arrivals, who were not always eager to work. Or at least to intimidate them with punishments for evasion and sabotage. Everything as usual.
Many of the civilians involved in the work often did not see any particular threat in the intentions of the central government.
"Yes, OMSDON are scoundrels, but they come and go, - they reasoned. - And if we don't work hard, they will leave much faster... And the confrontation between the КANAR and the right bank will come to an end. Was Harlington coming for nothing?"
"Is this what we fought for in 2115?" the political instructors, refuting such theses, would wheeze and growl every now and then. - Know that today we will stand firm, tomorrow we will win, and after that the leading force in our Russia is us and no one else! - Dragovich had heard this speech, always repeated exactly, more than once in the last week.
When there were about fifty meters left to the first trailers of the town, Dragovich began to make out the sounds coming from one of the trampled dirt parade grounds, on which several dozen workers in identical overalls were lined up.
- Remember this now, and then the conversation will be different, - a growl was heard from the parade ground. - Now you are equal to military personnel. You did not come here for a Saturday party with vodka. Grown men, damn it... Is your ass starting to bleed? All three will get a star, this is purely for informational purposes. If something like this happens again...
The voice was drowned out by the roar of the engine of a dump truck crawling nearby. Dragovich decided not to listen any longer and quickened his pace, heading towards his trailer.