For the improvised table were sitting a company commander, deputy political commissar and deputy company commander for the technical part.
— And, Matthew! Come on. — It commander Talay company. — What positions? The scheme has brought the fire? — I had a habit of falling asleep company commander platoon issues at any time of day or night and. Company was listed as the best in the squad, which made it possible Talal slightly down to talk with subordinate officers.
— Yes, all right. The scheme is actually finished, the evening will bring.
— And what, Matthew, you're congratulated the personnel? — Squat and little black Shreds since the school was nicknamed Matthew. This is a political officer of company Bato. A native of Yakutia. Always balanced and wise. — I'm the foreman said, a couple of cans of condensed milk in the evening for you to throw.
Sergei Litvinov, deputy company commander for the technical part, silent tinkered with gray box. This is the usual box in the Union was in every office. There! Serge somehow especially grunted and opened the box! In the box swirling in the newspaper as a capping shells, were four bottles of rum. Roma addition, another union, before the war. — Serge! Location! Three votes to one and the same question. Quietly, with dignity.
— Comrade officers, tehzamykanie on top. As long as Kirk songs you sang, I researched all the nearby shops. In one of them I found this treasure. An old magazinschik persuaded to buy. Vodka, says our acquire more, and that in any. What would you, the pilots not found a, I hid the rum into company documentation prior to arrival, as I thought, you will not use it. So congratulations!
— Sergei, you're a genius! Duty! Circularly. The group commander to commander of the company! The rapidly.
After 10 minutes, the senior lieutenants Ussenov Mike and Alex were on the team Agzamov Fri company. Calculations made! Schemes were! Report to, and themselves look askance at a table where shiny reddish stains rum.
— Well, fellow officers, 5 drops per prazdnichek and in position. — Commander Company poured rum. — Well, first prazdnichek on Afghan soil. Cheers!
Rum fiery stream ran down her throat. Matveev remembered as such they were drinking rum with his brother this summer in one of the restaurants of Kiev. Three months have passed, and now Afgan. He closed his eyes, it was comfortable and warm.
Alex Agzamov filed guitar. Shreds by adjusting the guitar and began to sing a song beloved company officers "Golden Moscow".
— Comrade Lieutenant! — This is a duty to the company commander. — Seventeenth calls on the connection.
— I am a tenth, at the reception.
— Tenth, watching the movement of the ladies and kids on the outskirts of town.
— Comrade officers, congratulations! I ask all to return to the position.
Commanders groups rose and moved to their groups. Group Matveyev was behind the runway, taking up defensive positions on the 3 infantry fighting vehicles. In the absence of the commander on the position of Senior Sergeant remained Mukhanaw. Matveyev was already halfway to the position when the red and fuels bitter blast blew the silence. Among the runway slowly sagged a cloud of dust. The radio station, peacefully hang out on his side, rejuvenated.
— Eighty! — Call sign of the battalion commander — I Thirtieth! — 3rd company. Fired a mortar!
Ether reached its highpoint with every minute. Everyone tried to report that he is hoping that with this report the magic happens and incomprehensible shooting died down. Matthew jumps ran to his car. Corner of his eye, he noted that the platoon took the excavated trench, but did not open fire, the team had expected. At the captain's place was sitting Mukhanaw.
Matveev swiftly put the headset.
— I'm Seventeen! To battle!
Squad leaders have replicated command. Turn the unit of observation, Matveev tried to behold what is happening on the approaches to the position. On the air sounded:
— I'm eighty! Everybody stop. Finish the fire! Look around! — Matveev, turning the device, and saw strange shadows. Looked closer — "spirits"!
— Glory — it's gunner — in the direction of the fourth. "Spirits"! A machine gun — to kill!
The tower went to the right, braked and twitching, was watered fourth landmark fire from a machine gun. The shadows darted across the field. Front of the car shot up a plume of smoke, fire. Through a hatch in the car crept acrid smoke.
— With the grenade launcher, you bastards! Attention! I'm Seventeen. Above the fourth. Fragmentation. Fire!
Three cars barked briefly, and only showed tracer rounds where.
— Allah Akbar! — Means correctly. — I'm Seventeen. Landmark four! Consumption of three! Fire!
Calm, Matthew. Peace of mind.
— I'm a 30 third, watching the movement along the strip takeoff.
— Seventeen! I'm eighty! The enemy from the rear! Kill!
— Attention! I'm Seventeen! Behind me go!
BMP Matveeva jerked backwards out of the caponnier. Immediately it took two more cars. Small column, inaudible in the din of battle, and the battalion was fighting, rushed to the runway. "Spirits" have found themselves outbreaks of fire.
— I'm Seventeen, the enemy along the strip take-off! Kill!
The sides of BPM lit up with fire. Troopers started to destroy the enemy. Artillery battery yelled, and hung in the sky flaming ball, like a spotlight, illuminating the area. At this time the car jerked Matveeva and somehow incorrect, faster, even unacceptable, given the slope, ran into stones and decayed.
— Serik, what's up! Serik?
The driver was silent. Matveev jumped out of the hatch, and leaned over the driver-mechanic. Serik Imanzhanov, a driver platoon commander, lay his head on the steering wheel. With blood running down his temple.
Gunner jumped out of the hatch and stood on the ribbed sheet. — Help!
Together they stretched the heavy body of Serik, handed it to the landing. Matveev he sat behind the wheel.
— Attention! I'm Seventeen! Pull back into position!
— Seventeen, I'm eighty! What have you got there?
That is to say, Matveev knew. It's already said he will learn later. I have a "three hundredth!" I have a "two-hundredth"! But for now, he and his platoon overstepped the line. Now there was a war. It is for Lieutenant Matveyev and his platoon began in a moment, in prazdnichek. She is forever tied for their lives into before and after.
— I'm Seventeen. Everyone! Hold it! Doctors at the position