Doctor baha had
It will be a whole world – several large books that tell the story of a world where the USSR is alive, and livelier than all living.
And when they meet those who believe.
They say: “We believed”;
And when they stay with their Shaytans.
They say: “We are with you, we are only mocking.”
Panjshirskoe gorge, northeast of Jebal Ussaraj.
District of the village of Rukh.
December 1986.
The old Mi-8 helicopter, long ago already only suitable for write-off, as it should be, the old man groaned and groaned, convulsively breathed turbines – but dragged. The old kind horse of the Soviet army aviation, taking off from the airfield in Bagram, had already passed through Rukh – the last point of the presence of Soviet troops – and moved farther and farther into the gorge. It was a deadly flight – the Pandhersher gorge was peppered with a variety of air defense systems, such as Chinese and Soviet DShK, Igla-type MANPADS and the newest American Stinger, Swiss twenty-millimeter Erlikons, the same ones that were in the hands of the Hitlerites. Some of the antiaircraft and anti-tank weapons were hidden in the caves cut in the rock mass and moved to the position along the narrow-gauge railway tracks. On the Pandhersher, if they walked, it was no less than a couple, accompanied by the “crocodiles”, and with the Rooks on the bagram helm at the ready. No other way. Tell someone to the senior lieutenant (the time has come, or maybe just been appropriated by changing the normal biography to the legendary one) to Nikolai Skvortsov that he will fly on the Pandusher on the old Bear, without cover, in general without anything – would not have believed it.
However – they flew. We sat in the frying pans *, but just in case. And no one fired at them.
In the amphibious assault landing compartment there were three of them – Lieutenant-Colonel Tsagoyev, their commander and curator God knows for how long. Senior Lieutenant Nikolai Sysoev, a native long ago demolished in the name of enlarging the village of the central strip of Russia. And ensign – he remained an ensign, did not give him the senior ensign, although he deserved it as no one – Igor Volkov.
So they were called now.
Senior Lieutenant Sysoev more conveniently intercepted his AKMS, hanging on the landing manners on his chest, on a strap thrown over his neck, closed his eyes. Before his eyes immediately swam the pictures – clear, bright, as on a television screen, he had this ability since childhood, to imagine life and scale. Everything is almost the same as now – close amphibious, illuminated only by dim plafond interior, the measured roar of engines outside the window, a sense of danger. Only under the wing is not Pandhersher gorge, but occupied by the fascists of Belarus, and the case does not take place in the eighty-seventh, but in the forty-second.
Faceless office – bare walls, there is not even a mandatory portrait of Lenin. Two tables, chairs, an iron door with a secret lock. Large, massive, human safe. Under the open windows – the fourth floor – there is a bustle of a bazaar.
Lieutenant-Colonel Tsagoyev, as always assembled and businesslike, pushed two unsteady chairs to the table, jammed the keys, opening the safe locks. I slid a thick, clerical folder on the table covered with a thin layer of dust “Business” with the materials sewn in it, grimacing wryly with the dust raised.
– And they did not clean it. On familiarization – an hour. Not more. I’ll be back – let’s talk.
Lock the lock locks, click the lock on the front door. They remain alone.
Folder – usual, clerical, gray, with some marks a handle on the cover. Incomprehensible number of the case, Pashto on the cover. If you do not take this folder in your hands, do not read carefully the materials sewn in it, do not leaf through the pages, many of which are paid for by the blood of the people who extracted them – you will never understand the true value of the collected here. Some of the sheets – handwritten, sometimes even on a piece of notebook paper – are decorated, as it should, printed on a typewriter, sometimes under a carbon paper. The eastern, not the autumn sun beats at the window, in the office it’s cool, floating like dancing in the rays of sunlight letters.
Lunkov Igor Eduardovich, Russian born in 1962, member of the CPSU since 1984, a native of the city of Cherkessk, previously convicted.
I, Lunkov Igor Eduardovich, born in 1962, permanently residing in Moscow, are a major of the Soviet Army and an operational officer of the Main Intelligence Directorate of the General Staff.
In essence, I can explain the following questions.
In the GRU, I was sent by the patronage of lieutenant general GRU Ptitsyn Vladimir Afanasievich, who was a friend of my father, director of the defense enterprise. I do not know what kind of relationship between Ptitsyn and my father, but I know that my father and Ptitsyn are seen several times a year, mostly in sanatoriums. Ptitsyn himself was at our house several times, the last time – less than a year ago.
In the GRU, I acted at the insistence of my father, and although the chief of the department where I work is Colonel Blind Konstantin Terentevich, all the time I worked in the GRU I followed Lieutenant-General Ptitsyn’s instructions, which he gave me alone and without witnesses. At the same time, I understood that some of these instructions were obviously criminal.
September 22 this year, I arrived in Afghanistan on a business trip together with Tereshchenko Roman Viktorovich, an employee of our department. Tereshchenko is also in communication with Lieutenant-General Ptitsyn, what kind of relationship he is bound to and Ptitsyn is unknown to me.
Before the trip, Lieutenant-General Ptitsyn called me to the hotel “Metropol”; where he, as I knew, sometimes took pictures to meet with agents. There, Lieutenant-General Ptitsyn gave me the following instructions in person:
1. While in Kabul, meet with an agent named Musa and tell him that the general is dissatisfied with the disruption of supplies. To demand from Musa to increase the volume of supplies, the channel is the same.
From myself I can add that the agent & quot; Musa & quot; is a member of the IPA, the Islamic Party of Afghanistan and an active member of the Kabul bandit underground. With Musa, the general ordered me to meet before, to give him instructions, twice – large sums of money in US dollars, which I imported into Afghanistan without customs inspection. I also know that under the word & quot; shipments & quot; means the supply of narcotic substance “heroin”, which Musa supplies to the Soviet Union for Lieutenant-General Ptitsyn, transferring him to the accomplices of General Ptitsyn, who in turn sent them on flights of military transport aviation. Lieutenant-General Ptitsyn personally personally traveled several times to the Kubinka airfield and took sealed boxes there, I know it, because I accompanied him on such trips. Sealed boxes with heroin were transported to the country house bought by the general for front men in the Vladimir region, where they later disappeared – I do not know. I also know that Captain Majidov, who is also an employee of the GRU and agent of General Ptitsyn, is collecting these boxes in Afghanistan. Boxes are left in the border areas, and Captain Majidov flies around the agreed points on the helicopter and takes them. The crew of the helicopter and the group guarding Captain Majidov do not know about the contents of the boxes, it is officially carried out as receiving messages from agents, to ensure meetings with which the helicopter is ordered.