Burning Moscow

　　 Seeing me coming out of Stalin’s office, Bezikov, who was chatting with the officer on duty in the corridor, hurriedly greeted me and asked me in a low voice: "Lida, are you okay?"

　　 I nodded and said softly: "I'm fine, thank you." After speaking, I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, and found that my feet were sore and the vest was wet. Meeting with Stalin was always something that made me nervous. Even though I knew there was no danger, I was still trembling.

　　 Bezikov accompanied me on the way out. I looked around and saw no one on the way, and quietly told him: "Comrade Colonel, in the conversation just now, Stalin asked about the mysterious engineer."

　　 Bezikov was taken aback, and looked around like me, lowered his voice and asked me: "Did you tell him the origin of the Florin engineer?"

　　 "Yes!" I asked in a puzzled way: "Have you not reported this incident to Comrade Stalin?"

"No!" He was a little anxious. If it wasn't for fear that irrelevant people would hear our conversation, he would have yelled aloud, "Lida!" He called my name, and said sincerely, "You don't Do you think this is too unbelievable? A man from the future, and the most urgently needed military technical talent. If I hadn't personally seen this group of passengers and the train that mysteriously disappeared in the white light, I I would never believe this to be a fact. So as a guard officer, I would not report such a thing to Comrade Stalin casually. He knew that the existence of Engineer Florin was entirely from other sources of information."

Hearing what he said, I immediately felt my heart fluttered. I thought that Bezikov had reported to Stalin about the mysterious subway train, so I just said so much in the office just now, and even took the weapons that are currently in a state of obscurity. The manufacturing master recommended it to Stalin. Oh my god, I was so sloppy in doing this, and I don't know what consequences it will bring me. At that moment, I even had the idea of ​​going back to Stalin's office to explain to him.

　　 But after a little thought, some words have already been said, no matter whether they are right or wrong, they can't be taken back, so let's just leave it to fate. Anyway, in the office just now, Stalin was not angry, so he was not certain to wait until I returned to the hospital to settle the accounts after the autumn.

　　 Bezikov sent me outside, stood on the steps and waved, and the car that sent me drove over from a short distance. After the car stopped steadily, the driver got down and walked around behind the car, opened the rear door, and stood by the door standing upright. Bezikov made a please gesture to me and said, "Lida, please get in the car! The driver will take you back to the hospital."

　　 I lowered my head and got into the car. After sitting down, I turned around and asked Bezikov, who was still standing outside the car: "Comrade Colonel, won't you send me to the hospital?"

　　 "No, I still have things to do." Bezikov held the car door, bent over and said to me: "The driver will take you back to the hospital, good luck!" With that, he closed the door for me. After closing the door, he did not stand upright, but said to the driver who was already sitting in the driving seat: "Let’s drive, be careful all the way, to ensure the safety of Lieutenant Colonel Oshanina."

　　 "Understood! Comrade Colonel." The driver said and started the car.

　　 The car left the Kremlin and drove south along the Moskva River. I looked from the car window, it was not the road that came in the morning at all, so I asked the driver curiously: "Comrade driver, this road does not seem to be the one we took in the morning?"

　　 "Yes," the driver said without looking back, "Although the road we are walking is farther, but there are far fewer barricades and checkpoints on the road, and we can reach the hospital faster than that road."

　　 Listening to the driver’s tone, he is very familiar with Moscow’s roads, and I also let him arrange the route, leaning on the back seat and closing my eyes to rest. Maybe it was because I didn't sleep well last night. After a while, I fell asleep without knowing it.

　　 was sleeping in a daze, the car suddenly braked, and I was caught off guard and slammed into the front row. The severe pain drove my sleepiness away. Rubbing my fiery and painful forehead, I asked the driver dissatisfiedly: "What's wrong? Why did I stop suddenly."

　　 The driver looked at me sideways and replied in an innocent tone: "It was driving well, but the truck with a canopy in front suddenly braked and I could only stop."

　　 was talking, the tarp curtain behind the truck in front opened, and the two soldiers holding the truck leaned out and looked out. Seven or eight children in ragged clothes ran from the front of the car and came under the two soldiers. They held up the tea mug or lunch box they held in their hands, chattering about something.

　　 "What's going on?" The scene before me confuses me. Where did these children come from and what are they doing.

"Oh!" The driver looked at the group of children in front and sighed, "After the war broke out, there have been many orphans whose parents have died. They are left unattended. In order to survive, apart from stealing, they can only stop and transport military supplies everywhere. I hope the kind drivers can give them a piece of bread or other food."

　　 "Doesn't anyone care about these orphans?" Seeing the poor children outside, the corners of my eyes were a little moist.

　　 The driver shook his head and said, “No one cares about them. Because they have both died of their parents, they don’t have the conditions for evacuation, so they can only stay in this city and fend for themselves.”

　　 Standing in the carriage, two soldiers yelled a few words at the children below, and the children immediately became quiet. In this way, I could clearly hear the older soldiers saying loudly: "Children, stop making trouble, keep order, and take good pictures of the team. Each one has a potato." Then he picked up a small box.

　　 After listening to his words, the children formed an untidy group under the baffle of the carriage, but they still held up the tea mug and lunch box in their hands.

The old soldier just picked up a potato and wanted to pass it to the first child. The younger soldier next to him immediately stopped him and said: "...No, this is military material and cannot be given to them casually. We will be sent to a military court. ..." And stretched out his hand to grab the old soldier's hand, grabbed the potato in his hand, and turned his head to the bridge behind and shouted: "Hey, what are you doing in a daze? Drive quickly!"

　　 Hearing the shout, the driver of the vehicle in front hit the accelerator, the truck rushed forward, and found that the deceived children also screamed and chased up. But no matter where the two legs can catch up with the car, the truck has already driven one or two hundred meters away without running too far. The children chased for a while, and when they saw that there was no hope of catching up, they scolded and dispersed, disappearing into the buildings on both sides of the road.

　　 "Let's drive." When I saw this scene, I felt heartbroken, but I had nothing to do. I could only tell the driver to drive.

　　 The car drove forward more than ten meters, and suddenly a child rushed out of the road and stopped in front of our car. The driver was making a sudden stop again. Fortunately, this time I was prepared and didn't hit the front row again.

　　 "What happened to this kid?" The driver scolded angrily, "Don't you see the special pass stuck on the car window? I just rushed out to stop the car, and I am not afraid that I will be shot as a saboteur on the spot."

　　 saw the car stop, the child in front of the car did not move, but stretched out the broken lunch box in his hand towards us. I carefully looked at the child standing in front of the car. It turned out to be a five or six-year-old boy. He was wearing a shabby cotton army cap, wearing a black cotton jacket that didn’t fit, and a black military shirt tied around his waist. The belt and the cotton-padded jacket were stained with blood and mud. I don't know where he got it.

　　 I accidentally touched the pocket of my coat and found that there were still slices of bread when I left the hospital, so I pushed the car door and got out of the car. I asked for the slices of bread in my pocket, walked towards him, and said, "Child, come here, I have food here." The child still stood there and didn’t move. Maybe he was afraid that the driver before and after he left the car. He will suddenly drive away again, maybe he has been taken too much.

　　 I walked to his side, squatted down and put the slices of bread into his lunch box. He didn't look at me, but grabbed the slice of bread with his right hand, stuffed it directly into his mouth and gobbled it up. Because of eating too hard, I was choked and coughed violently. I gently patted him on the back, and said pityingly: "No one will grab you, eat slowly."

　　 The boy stopped coughing, looked at me gratefully, and slowed down the speed of eating. Tears could not stop coming out of his eyes, running down his cheeks.

　　 He could not see his original face, but was immediately washed out two white marks by tears. I lifted my sleeves and carefully wiped the dirt off his face, and soon a white and handsome face appeared in front of me.

　　 I just said in my heart that there are many handsome men who are old-fashioned, even children. But unexpectedly found that the child looked familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere. I frowned and asked the boy, "My boy, where is your home?"

　　 The boy didn't answer my question, he just lowered his head and continued to eat slices of bread.

　　 After eating three slices of bread in a row, he opened the quilt of the jacket and put the remaining slices of bread into his arms. When he opened his shirt, I saw that he was wearing a white shirt underneath. I suddenly remembered something, but it was not clear. I quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled it aside, pulling the clothes more open. Now I clearly saw that he was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt. Not the long-sleeved shirt to wear this season.

　　 I have already guessed his true identity, so I hurriedly covered his shirt, and said softly: "Child, do you remember me? In the subway car, the female commander who picked up your little book?"

　　 Hearing this, his body trembled violently, then raised his head, looked at me in horror, and murmured: "Don't catch me, don't catch me!"

　　 "Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, what's going on?" The driver didn't know when he got out of the car, and when he saw the child's panic expression, he asked curiously.

　　 When I was considering how to answer, the alarm sounded.

　　 The sirens sounded slightly and remotely at first, and then quickly became louder and louder, as if it was hitting the walls of the house hard, overwhelming all other noises in the street.

　　 "Get in the car!" The driver urged me anxiously, "The German **** plane is bombing again. Let's find a place to hide."

　　 I took the child by the hand and pulled him into the car. Before I could sit firmly, the driver stepped on the accelerator and our car rushed forward violently.

　　 drove out of two blocks, and suddenly there was a loud bang not far away, and the cement ash filled the sky instantly, blocking the sight of our car. Then, sometimes loud noises came from around.

　　 "Hurry up! Drive faster!" Seeing the critical situation, I couldn't help yelling at the driver. The boy was trembling with fright and plunged into my arms. I hugged the boy tightly and looked out of the car window nervously, afraid that the short-eyed bomb would name the car we were in.

　　 Amid the violent explosion, another roadside building collapsed. The driver stopped the car abruptly and turned his head and shouted to me: "Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, we can't drive like this anymore. We may be hit by a bomb at any time. We should find an air raid shelter to conceal it and wait until the air raid is over. go."

　　 "What are you still waiting for? Get out of the car immediately."

　　 I pushed the car door and hugged the boy out of the car. The pungent cement ash mixed with other choking smells made me cough violently and felt dizzy in front of me. The driver walked around from the other end of the car, waving his hands in front of his eyes, slowly dispersing the cement dust. He said loudly to me: "Follow me!" Then he took the child in my hand, turned his head and ran. I followed him closely, covered my nose and mouth with my sleeves, and ran forward staggeringly.

　　 The shattered building was still falling down with bricks and tiles. While I was running, although I was careful, I was still hit once or twice.

　　The people on the street who were too late to hide are all running away, yelling in panic. On the road passing by, you can see people lying on the ground all the time. There is no need to check it out. Based on my current experience, I also know that they are out of help.

　　 The anti-aircraft gun rumblingly sounded, and the sound of the anti-aircraft gun shooting and the explosion of the bomb became one.

The driver leading the way ran towards a residential building. Two middle-aged women in cotton shirts and red sleeves stood at the door. Seeing us running wild, they hurriedly shouted: "Comrade military, hurry up here. Come!"

　　 ran into the building. Under the guidance of a middle-aged woman, we walked down a dozen steps and entered a dark basement. Since I only entered from the well-lit outdoors, even if there is an illuminated oil lamp in the basement, I still feel that I can't see anything clearly. It took a while before I could barely see everything in the room.

　　 The driver was sitting on a bench opposite me, holding the child and panting heavily. I smiled at him and said to him gratefully: "Thank you, comrade driver, if you were not there, I would stay on the street and be bombed by the Germans."

　　 He waved his hand and continued to gasp, and waited for his breathing to become slightly even before saying, "Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, please don't be so polite. It is my responsibility to protect you."

　　 I looked at the child in his arms, and the child happened to look at me secretly. I waved to him and said softly, "Child, come to me!"

　　 The boy stood up hesitantly and walked towards me slowly. I took him into my arms, put my chin on his head, and asked him in a low voice, "My child, what's your name?"

　　 "Valoka," he replied timidly, "Mom calls me Lova."

"Lova, can you tell me what happened?" When I said this, I deliberately glanced at the driver who was sitting opposite, and saw his eyes closed, his head leaning on the back wall, and his chest violently rising and falling. , Breathing heavily. "I want to know what happened after you left the subway station?"

Valorja in her arms suddenly sobbed and stammered: "The truck that my mother and I were in was not far away when we were bombarded by a plane and the car stopped. I was so scared at the time, so I was tight. Hugging mother tightly. The other uncles and aunts in the car screamed and wanted to run out, but they were blocked by the two soldiers guarding us. They shouted loudly:'No order, no one is allowed to get out of the car! No order, No one is allowed to get out of the car!'..."

　　 "The alarm outside seems to be lifted!" The driver suddenly stood up and said, then walked out without looking back, "I'll take a look first."

　　 After the driver walked out of the basement, I then asked, "What happened then?"

"Uncle Soldier forbids everyone to get out of the car, so everyone quarreled with them desperately. At this time, a bomb hit a car not far away. Seeing the flames and gunpowder smoke, everyone was terrified and stopped. It was a quarrel. It was my mother who hugged me and squeezed to the back of the carriage, leaning out between the two soldier uncles ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ and put me under the car...."

　　 "What about your mother?"

"She wanted to jump out of the car, but she was caught by the soldier's uncle and pushed into the car. I only heard her mother yelling:'Lova, run! Hurry up and go home to find Dad!' I was at that time. Frightened, he ran away. After running for a while, I found that I couldn't find where my home was. Then I ran back to find my mother, only to find that the truck she made was burning... "Speaking of which, Varoja Started to cry.

　　 His cries brought in the middle-aged woman who had just left. She curiously asked, "Comrade Commander, what's wrong with the child?"

　　 I wiped a tear and tried to squeeze a smile out and said, "The child is crying sadly when he thinks of his dead parents. It's okay, go ahead!"

　　 The female administrator shook her head, mumbled and walked away.

I gently patted the child on the back and comforted him, "Okay, child, stop crying, you can survive, and your mother’s spirit in the sky will also be comforted." I raised my head and looked away from my eyes. Liquid came out of it and poured it back, before he continued: "You follow me first, and I will help you find a place to settle you."

　　 Hearing me say this, the child's cry gradually decreased, and he responded to me in a low voice.

　　 I don't know how long it took, and the child gradually calmed down and there was no sound. I looked down and saw that he was already asleep in my arms.

　　 There was a rush of footsteps from the door, and then I heard a familiar voice from the driver: "Comrade Lieutenant Colonel, the air raid alarm has been lifted. The car stopped at the door. Get out and get on the car!"