Chapter 597 The Press Corps and the Russian Mother and Son
Chapter 597: Press Team and Russian Mother and Son
The offensive on the frontal battlefield is strengthening, and the peripheral blockade is also strengthening!
A large number of soldiers and agents watched everything around them vigilantly, especially the Russian civilians who were hurriedly avoiding the flames of war.
God knows if there are any guerrillas among these people.
To some extent, those guerrillas were more annoying and more troublesome than the Russian regular army. They constantly provided the Red Army in the encirclement with intelligence, food, and everything they needed.
What's even more annoying is that these guerrillas are constantly attacking the supply lines of the Chinese Communist Party. Or calling them guerrillas is not appropriate. They are often large in number, and some guerrilla groups even reach the size of a brigade or even a division.
.
After Meretskov gave the order to break up the troops, like the regular army, the guerrillas also broke into pieces and operated in small groups.
This further increased the difficulty for the Chinese Communist Party to destroy these guerrillas.
The gendarmes wearing helmets constantly checked every passing Russian and asked them about their destination in simple and proficient Russian.
Most people's situation is the same. The situation in Kdonsnoyarsk is too chaotic, fighting is happening everywhere, and civilians' declarations can be threatened at any time and at any time. There is no hope in staying there. Leaving as soon as possible is the wisest choice.
An agent with a mustache kept appearing. He would always stop a suspicious-looking person, then call a translator for a careful interrogation. He would also carefully check the package to make sure it was not a guerrilla before releasing it.
"Yesterday I heard that the defense area next door was attacked by guerrillas, and several brothers were killed..." The military police sergeant who was off duty came to Mustache, took a pack of cigarettes, sent one, and lit one himself.
Posted: "***, these Russians are so rampant, they sometimes attack during the day... Yesterday they really set fire to the defense area next door, and chased them out regardless of darkness, really
We captured a few guerrillas, what do you think they did with them?"
"Kill?" Mustache asked in a low voice.
The sergeant nodded: "Kill...I heard it was an order personally given by the platoon leader..."
"What a pity." Mustache shook his head: "How about leaving a few alive? Maybe we can find some clues about the guerrillas from them..."
"Brothers' eyes are all red, how can you think of this?" The sergeant curled his lips: "If I were there, maybe I would take action. Hey, have you heard of it..."
He looked to the side and lowered his voice: "The Führer Division of the Grand President's Guards secretly executed a group of prisoners of war in Gamorov..."
"No way?" Mustache was a little surprised when he heard this: "If this is true, it would be terrible if it spreads. I heard that a group of journalists from some European countries have recently arrived and are looking for news everywhere...
...If this thing is true and word gets out, why don't you cause trouble for yourself?"
The sergeant was very disdainful: "The Führer's Division is the president's treasure, who dares to touch them?"
"Stop!" At this moment, Mustache suddenly shouted loudly, then threw the cigarette on the ground, walked up quickly, and stopped a Russian woman and a child who had just passed the interrogation.
"Where did it come from?" Mustache asked after calling the translator.
"Yamminchak from Kdonsnoyarsk," the Russian woman replied.
"Where to go?"
"Trochap." The Russian woman looked very calm.
But the calmer she became, the more suspicious Mustache became.
The luggage she carried had been checked long ago, and there was nothing suspicious. The eleven or two-year-old child beside her hid beside her mother in fear.
"Brother, reporter..." the military police sergeant hurried over and whispered.
A large group of foreign reporters, led by a Chinese colonel, appeared here. The reporters grabbed their cameras and took random pictures of Mustache and the mother and son!
The mustache was a little anxious and hurriedly covered his face.
"Mr. Colonel, may I ask why your team stopped this mother and son?"
"Mr. Colonel, do you think this innocent mother and son pose a threat to you?"
Questions were thrown one after another. The colonel was a little overwhelmed and called the sergeant and Mustache: "What's going on?"
"This..." The sergeant didn't know how to answer...
"Sir, they must have a problem." Mustache quickly helped his brother out.
The colonel glared: "One minute, I'll give you one minute to find the answer, otherwise it will be difficult for reporters..."
Mustache's eyes returned to the mother and child. He first stared at the mother for a while, and then his eyes fell on the child...
He suddenly noticed that there was a bulge on the Russian child's waist that could not be found unless he looked carefully.
"You, come here." Mustache said coldly.
The Russian child walked over fearfully, and the mustache sneered: "Take off your clothes!"
The expressions of the Russian mother and son suddenly changed...
"Untie it!" Mustache's tone suddenly became stern.
The Russian child reluctantly began to unbutton one by one, and all the reporters' eyes were attracted.
In an instant, the Russian child pulled out a grenade with a "swish", and then pulled the fuse with a well-trained...
Stunned, everyone was dumbfounded at this moment...
The fuse was burning "whispering". At this critical moment, the military police sergeant suddenly rushed forward and threw the Russian child under him...
A loud "boom" sound...
Everything was quiet, only two bloody corpses were lying there... Several reporters who were slightly closer were knocked to the ground, but they quickly got up without any injuries.
harm......
These very professional reporters, after getting over the initial shock, quickly took pictures of the two corpses on the ground.
"Stop!" the colonel shouted angrily.
The reporters were all stunned by the roar and unconsciously stopped what they were doing...
The military police subdued the Russian woman who was trying to escape, but Mustache was silently staring at the body of his brother on the ground. Just a few minutes ago, they were smoking and chatting together. But in the blink of an eye, his brother
Just gone?
If he could have been more vigilant, if he could have ordered to stop this damn Russian kid in advance, his brother would not have to die. It was him who killed the sergeant.
"My people are dead, dead..." The colonel's voice was sad and low: "Just now you asked us why we did this? Now I can give you the answer. In Russia, in Kotunsnoyar
In Sksk, there is no difference between soldiers and civilians. Every Russian may be an enemy, just like this child. He is also full of fatal dangers! We protect the safety of civilians' lives and property, but this does not mean that we can take
The lives of our soldiers are a joke..."
The reporters quickly recorded. The colonel looked sadly at the body on the ground:
"I know him. He is a veteran and the father of two children. Now, the children no longer have a father. Originally, this would not have happened. If you had not appeared, we would have used stronger means to deal with these people.
But you have raised doubts with us, well, we have no choice but to prove in front of you without removing the threat that our people did nothing wrong. Now is it confirmed? But my people are
Dead... The lives of Russian civilians must be guaranteed? What about the lives of our soldiers? Don’t they need to be guaranteed? Will his children lose their father?”
The reporters were silent for a long time before one reporter whispered: "Sorry..."
"You don't have to say sorry to me, tell him." The colonel pointed at the corpse of the military police sergeant on the ground: "But no matter how much you say sorry, he can't hear it. He didn't die on the battlefield, but died on the battlefield.
On the hands of a Russian child..."
As he spoke, he cheered up:
"Now you have all seen how terrible the Russians are. Those people who have been completely brainwashed by Bolshevik ideas, they ignore life, other people's and their own. They are constantly destroying this country and destroying human civilization. The only choice we can make
Just wipe them out completely!
In Russia, we must maintain this high degree of vigilance and must not let up in any way. We must temporarily regard every Russian as an enemy, regardless of whether he is a real civilian. We will not play with our own lives.
.This is a crime, a crime against soldiers. Journalists, you can tell everyone in the world what you see!"
"We will report it faithfully." A French reporter crossed himself on his chest: "Terrible Red elements, Mr. Colonel, I hope your soldiers can rest in peace in heaven."
"We don't believe in God." After listening to the translation, Mustache said sadly. He knelt down and looked at his brother carefully, and couldn't help but shed tears.
He lit a cigarette with trembling hands and placed it next to his brother. Take another puff. You can't smoke the cigarette down here.
Mustache is determined to never make such a mistake again in the future. No matter who is standing next to him, as long as there is any threat to the target, he will deal with them as soon as possible.
This is a responsibility for oneself and for everyone.
There is nothing much to say about dying on the battlefield, but dying like this is not worth it, not worth it at all, and you shouldn't die like this.
Kill these damn Russians and never let any suspicious person go!