Chapter 1686 Cemetery, the cemetery of the empire.
On the night they returned to Kazan, the Queen and the historians were naturally upset. But in the remote port of Darwin, Australia, there were people who were even more passionate than them.
"This will be the first official mission of the Colorful Elephant"
In the basement of the villa, Kshatriya, who is the leader of the colorful elephants, is sitting precariously, listening with suppressed excitement to the explanation of the lady wearing a black hood across the table.
"This competition is just a small test of your work ability."
Girl Hela, who had one hand on the stun gun at her waist, said, "This is also the first time that the colorful idol appears in the online world. The speech has been prepared for you. You can arrange for the most capable subordinate to prepare it."
,Is there any problem?"
"Yes sir"
The Kshatriya stood up excitedly and saluted with an exaggerated chest and abdomen. He suppressed his excitement and asked doubtfully, "I do have some questions."
"Tell me about it," the slightly relieved Hela girl responded calmly. She thought the other party was going to show off her bestiality.
"I don't understand what this kind of thing has to do with the Cow Urine Kingdom." asked the former Kshatriya.
"Recruitment has invaded many countries, including the United States and China."
Girl Hela explained, "If we can sanction the invaders who have invaded most countries in Asia in this way and correct their history of hypocrisy and mistakes, everyone will know who can lead Asia in the future."
"I! I understand!" the Kshatriya said excitedly, "The war between the future leader and the former invader, this is our opportunity to make a name for ourselves!"
"That's right. The Ministry of National Defense did not choose the wrong person." The Hela girl wearing a hood praised seriously, "I'll give you five days to arrange a spokesperson. Is there any problem?"
"No problem!" the former Kshatriya said excitedly, "I can personally..."
"You are the core figure of the Colorful Elephants. Let the people you choose do this. You have to hide in the darkness like a poisonous snake." Miss Hela reminded her seriously as before.
"Yes, yes! That's right! I was negligent!"
"For the great cow urine country"
"For the great cow urine kingdom!" This former Kshatriya shouted the slogan he set.
"Get ready as soon as possible and record in this basement."
Miss Hela said, "After completion, if you do well enough, I will take you to another place to hibernate."
"Where to go?"
"This is not what you should ask"
"I will keep my people strictly confidential!" The man, whose whole body began to tremble with excitement, once again raised his chest and abdomen excessively, stamped his feet, and saluted.
Girl Hela, who also returned the military salute solemnly, with the corners of her mouth beginning to twitch, left along the secret passage leading to the basement next door, and locked the heavy iron door from the other side.
"idiot"
The Hela girl quietly commented on the impression the other party had left on her in a voice that only she could hear, then left the basement and drove away in the car in the garage.
Early the next morning, a sudden heavy snowfall forced Wei Ran to suspend his morning jogging habit, but Suisui got up with enough energy. After washing up anxiously, she hurriedly greeted the girls and rushed to the next door.
's office.
She did have enough reasons to be anxious. She wanted to finish filming the movie before spring. Not only did she have to raise actors and props, but she also had to choose a suitable venue and deploy a camera crew.
In the spirit of sharing happiness and suffering together, she naturally cannot let her man sleep in.
In desperation, Wei Ran could only get up and tap on the keyboard to "edit" everything that happened on the island into a script like a running account.
Compared with their busyness, Beria and the little lamb were running around happily in the snow. Their unrestrained joy was really enviable by a certain historian.
In any case, two-legged people cannot be compared with four-legged pets.
When Wei Ran typed all the memories about that island into the computer, it was already approaching noon.
Ninel's phone call came again just before lunch was served on the table.
Yawning and making another promise, he accompanied Suisui to finish the work meal, then reluctantly got into the basement of the library and opened the locked door of the workshop.
After locking the door and doing his usual inspection, Wei Ran replenished the metal book with all the supplies he could, and then he dug out the things and files that Ninel had sent before and checked them again.
"Afhan, Affhan, whoever hits the special number is a fool."
Wei Ran rubbed his face vigorously and muttered, then lit another cigarette to calm his slightly uneasy mood.
It wasn't until the cigarette burned out that he put out the cigarette butt, took out a pen, wrote some keywords on a sticky note, and posted it on the desktop.
Putting away the pen, Wei Ran exhaled a strong breath, even picked up a bottle of gin on the table, opened it and took a sip before taking out the metal book.
Amidst the clattering sound of turning pages, Wei Ran, who was anxious, nervous and even scared a second ago, breathed an inexplicable sigh of relief, and even his breathing and heartbeat became much more stable.
Amid the mixed emotions of not knowing whether they were expectations or not, the metal quill drew a Mi-24D armed helicopter on the pale yellow paper, as well as four men taking a group photo in front of the helicopter.
Just like the photo found in the file provided by Ninel, three of the four men were wearing flight suits, one was wearing an afhanka, and he had a cross armband on his cuffs.
As he waited more and more calmly, the metal quill also wrote down lines of words that he needed to remember:
Act 1
Role identity: Freelance journalist Victor
Return mission: Assist in completing weapon transfer and position camouflage, take at least one group photo and three individual photos, no killing is allowed throughout the process
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! Language task: eliminate unexploded aerial bombs
grass...
Wei Ran muttered and let the strong white light cover up everything in his field of vision. In this white light, he also saw something he could use.
A Heinze pie oven, a British compass, a flashlight, a sapper shovel, a food knife, a British army kettle, as well as a Nikon SP camera and a US military butt bag containing film, a half-frame camera, developing solution and other items.
The props are not too many, but they are not too few either.
When the white light faded, the cold, windy sand, and the smell of sheep's smell hit his face. Then, he also noticed what seemed to be riding underneath him.
Blinking hard to regain his vision, the first thing he saw was a field of barren mountains and a winding road at the foot of the mountains in the distance.
He lowered his head and saw that he was riding a black donkey, with a brown hard leather suitcase about 22 inches in size fixed behind him.
He was wearing an earthy yellow robe, and outside of the robe was a dusty knitted wool vest, and around the outside was a wool blanket stained with a lot of sand.
He wore a pair of loose overalls on his lower body, with the trouser legs stuffed into a pair of camel leather boots and a simple band around the boot cuffs.
In addition to these, he also has a gray-blue scarf wrapped around his head, a Minolta X700 camera with a leather case hanging around his neck, and he even has a thick beard.
Looking ahead, there is a group of less than 10 goats. Some of these goats have four RPG rockets tied with ropes, some have a bullet chain wrapped around them, and some simply have two pockets of loose bullets hanging on them.
Looking further ahead of these sheep, there is a young man who looks to be no more than twelve or thirteen years old. He does not have any riding. But on his back, he is carrying an old Lee-Enfield rifle.
Behind him were two donkeys, carrying a Soviet-produced KPV 14.5mm anti-aircraft heavy machine gun and its mountain anti-aircraft tripod base.
On both sides of the two donkeys, there was a man dressed similar to himself. One of them looked to be about sixty years old, and the other looked to be about twenty-four or five-year-old.
In addition to a Bobosha hanging on his shoulder, the older one also carried an additional Stinger anti-aircraft missile.
Another young man, in addition to an RPG, also carried a Stinger anti-aircraft missile launcher in a canvas pocket. Judging from its heavy appearance, that launcher might also have an anti-aircraft missile.
Behind these two people, there were no more people or animals.
After a moment of hesitation, Wei Ran turned over and got off the donkey, then looked at the two people behind him and patted his shoulder again.
"Victor, we can carry it."
The older one said in relatively proficient Russian, "You ride on it, it's the donkey you bought yourself."
"I want to come down for a walk, but I don't want to let my donkey rest, so put your things up there."
Wei Ran, who was slightly relieved, took a single photo of each of them and a group photo, and also responded in Russian.
After a slight hesitation, the old man said something to the young man next to him in a language he did not understand. The latter nodded shyly towards Wei Ran and said "thank you" in unfamiliar Russian.
Then, the two of them tied the anti-aircraft weapons on their shoulders to the sides of the donkey Wei Ran had just been riding.
"How far away are we?" Wei Ran asked, having nothing to say, "Besides, your Russian is really good."
“You have to wait until after dark to get there.”
The old man replied, "Before the war started, I studied in Moscow for a long time. But that was all before the Red Prince launched Zheng Bian."
"That was indeed a long time ago."
Wei Ran paused and continued to ask, "Didn't this young man and the young man in front learn Russian?"
"Habibullah has only studied English. He has no good impression of the Soviet Union and does not want to learn Russian at all. In fact, if it were not for this war, he would have had the opportunity to study in the United States."
The old man said helplessly, "The war started before Multaza even had time to go to school. He can only write his own name now, but Habibullah and I sometimes teach him some knowledge."
"The war will probably end soon."
After Wei Ran finished speaking, he asked, "Can I know your Avhan name?"
"Mahboob Sarwari," the old man said with a smile, "Do you need me to teach you how to write it?"
"I'm afraid I'm on the same level as Multaza in this regard."
Wei Ran said in a joking tone, "Can I go to the front and take a photo of him?"
"Of course you can, but you have to be careful."
Mahbub reminded, "We may encounter those Soviets at any time."
"I'll be careful"
As Wei Ran spoke, he ran forward more than ten meters with his camera, surpassing the young man named Multaza. He first took a single photo of him, and then took a photo of him and the "fully armed" sheep behind him.
, and two other people took a group photo.
"This is the Imperial Cemetery..."
Wei Ran, who had completed his return mission ahead of schedule, couldn't help but look into the distance. Unfortunately, except for the khaki road, he didn't see any signs of towns or human activities in his field of vision.
After a while, the sheep carrying heavy burdens passed by both sides of his body, and he once again walked with Mahbub and Habibullah.
To be cautious, Wei Ran did not rush to ask about the three people's battle plans, but just asked Jia Chang aimlessly.
It was also during the chat that I learned that Habibullah was Mahbub’s youngest son, and Multaza who was walking in the front was the grandson left to him by his eldest son, who had already
He died in the second year after the war started.
When it comes to the war, it seems that all related branches are particularly heavy. Wei Ran stopped asking more questions about his family and instead talked about what they were doing.
"We are responsible for sending weapons, ammunition and you, a freelance journalist, to the guerrillas."
Mahboob smiled and said, "Isn't this what we agreed on from the beginning? Have you regretted it?"
"Of course not"
Wei Ran smiled and said, "What do I mean by sending me and the weapons and ammunition to the back? Will you stay or go back immediately?"
"Maybe I'll stay, maybe I'll go back."
Mahbub replied with a smile. Obviously, he still had reservations about Wei Ran, who assumed the status of a freelance journalist.
Although the other party did not answer the last irrelevant question, Wei Ran, who had already obtained the answer to the key question, stopped asking more questions on this topic and chatted with the other party about his experience working in Moscow.
If you only look at Mahboob's old appearance, it would be hard to believe that he was once a university teacher.
It was even more difficult for Wei Ran to understand how he turned from a university teacher to a guerrilla.
"My eldest son is a soldier who led the guerrillas to fight against the Soviets"
Mahbub said, “My second son was also killed by the Soviets two years ago, including my eldest son’s wife, my second son’s wife and children, as well as my wife, and many of my students.
One after another they were killed by the Soviets.
Reporter Victor, is this a good enough reason?”
"That's enough." Wei Ran ended the topic apologetically.
For a moment, the team, which had fewer people than sheep, fell into silence, and the only sounds left were the sounds of sheep's hooves, donkey's hooves trampling the ground and rocks sliding down.
Following the three generations of ancestors and grandchildren, they climbed over barren mountains with only stones. As noon approached, Multaza, who was walking at the front, tied the sheep he had been holding in his hand to a protruding stone.
“Let’s have something to eat”
Mahbubu took out two enamel milk cans, one large and one small, from the cloth bag on a donkey, as well as two oil stoves issued by the Soviet army, which were only half the size of civilian lunch boxes.
After taking the small milk can, the young man named Multaza found a ewe and started milking it skillfully.
At the same time, Habibullah also took over the oil stove and began to pump air and pressure.
Mahbub, on the other hand, carried another enamel milk can and walked farther and farther along the ravine, and was finally blocked by the mountain.
Seeing that three generations of his family were busy, Wei Ran simply took off the hard cowhide suitcase that seemed to belong to him, opened it, and checked the contents inside.
The things inside are arranged in very neat categories. Several sets of underwear and socks, two pairs of pants, a sweater and a windbreaker occupy the most important positions.
In addition to a few bottles of condiments and some medicines such as amoxicillin, the rest of the space also contains a telescopic tripod, external flashes, shutter cables, etc., and even twenty boxes of film, or even a full box.
Button battery.
It's a reporter again...
Wei Ran muttered secretly, fastened the leather buckle of the suitcase, and put it aside temporarily.
In just a short time, the youngest Multaza had squeezed out a can full of goat's milk. Habibullah also lit the small oil stove and placed the milk can on it.
He handed over the job of looking after the milk tank to his nephew Multaza, and he began to pump gas and pressure into the second kerosene stove.
"Can I communicate with you in English?" Wei Ran asked.
"Yes, but my English is not very good." Habibullah replied slightly nervously and flustered. Obviously, this is a young man who will be labeled as a "social phobia" in future generations.
"I think your English pronunciation is very standard," Wei Ran said with a smile.
"I want to visit the United States, especially New York."
While cheering, Habibullah added a precondition to his previous wish, "If there is no such war."
"You will have a chance in the future," Wei Ran said as he pressed the shutter towards the young man.
"Well, the war is about to end." Habibullah said, "After the war is over, I will go to the United States to see if I am still alive by then."
Having said this, he glanced at his nephew Multaza who was boiling goat milk, and after Weiran took a photo of him, he said, "Multaza also wants to visit the United States."
"You will all have a chance." Before Wei Ran finished speaking, Mahbubu also came back carrying the milk can.
Almost at the same time, Habibullah also lit the second oil stove, reached into the donkey's pocket, took out a glass bottle, opened it, squeezed a small amount of black tea from it, put it into a cloth bag the size of a cigarette box and tied it tightly.
, then opened a glass jar, pinched a pinch of coarse salt and threw it into the jar containing goat milk.
Immediately afterwards, Mahbub carried the milk can and asked everyone, including Wei Ran and himself, to simply wash their hands, and then placed the remaining half can of water on the lit oil stove, and
He threw the cloth bag containing the black tea in.
While the goat's milk and black tea were boiling, the grandfather and grandson each spread their blankets on the ground, held their hands together in front of them, and started the noon ceremony devoutly.
Pressing the shutter on the three of them again, Wei Ran politely took off the camera and placed it on his suitcase, and then took over the task of looking after the goat milk and black tea.
When the goat's milk and black tea were boiling, and the grandfather and grandson also completed their prayers, Mahbub also took out two pieces of naan bread from the donkey's cloth pocket, broke them in half, and gave each person half.
Piece of cake.
At the same time, Multaza also dug out four enamel jars. Habibullah picked up the small milk jug and poured the goat milk in it equally into the four enamel jars.
Behind him, Mahbubu also picked up the jug and followed the boiled black tea inside.
“Eat whatever you want”
Mahbub said apologetically, "We only have this to entertain guests now."
“This is already good”
Wei Ran thanked him politely and took the initiative to donate his suitcase to serve as a dining table.
When the elder Mahbubu was the first to eat, he followed their example, holding a broken piece of naan bread with his right hand, dipping it in the enamel jar containing milk tea and then putting it into his mouth.
It’s hard to describe this meal as delicious or not, but in this cold weather with temperatures in the single digits above zero at most.
A cup of hot tea that is enough to warm up the body and replenish protein and salt, as well as enough carbohydrates, already makes him very satisfied.
Listening to the grandfather and grandson chatting about unknown topics in a language he didn't understand, the only thing Wei Ran could do was to raise his camera and take another photo of the three of them having a meal together.
After finishing a simple lunch in almost an hour from preparation to packing up, Wei Ran followed the three of them on the road again, heading towards an unknown destination step by step.
Inevitably, he is also curious.
What kind of existence is the Afhan guerrillas from another perspective, and what kind of war will he record when he once again steps into the battlefield as a reporter.
But at the same time, he was paradoxically aware of another fact: the aggressor this time was the Soviet Union, which had been invaded before. The invaded this time, in Grozny a few years later, would be carried out in a bloody and cruel way.
revenge.
Maybe this is war. In a sense, there is never absolute justice.