Steel Soviet Union
Chapter 685 Death Station (6)
Malashenko threw off his arms and ran all the way to the tank as fast as he could. He quickly climbed up the turret, stretched out his hands and hugged Nikolai, who was lying limply on the turret, and tried to drag him down when he saw the situation. A blazing bullet that came from nowhere jumped directly to Malashenko's feet and hit the armor plate. A stray bullet almost rubbed against Malashenko's face and pointed straight up into the sky.
A burning pain, as if the skin was on fire, quickly flooded into Malashenko's mind, and the warm liquid quickly transferred the touch to Malashenko's chin and flowed down.
Malashenko, who was convinced that his face must have been injured, couldn't care about it at all. The only thought in his mind was to rescue Nikolai quickly, and he hugged the limp body in his arms tightly. He fell backwards directly from the tank body.
The combined weight of the two of them was enough to make Malashenko's body unable to support him. Malashenko's center of gravity was unstable and he fell to the ground. However, he still did not forget to hold Nikolai in his arms tightly and try not to let him fall anymore. Hurt.
The man who struggled to get up from the ground did not forget to hold Nikolai with one hand and drag him backward at the same time.
As long as the Germans were not blind, they would have been able to see such a conspicuous target. The German infantry who had already rushed into the trenches and were fighting hand to hand quickly noticed Malashenko who dared to save people on the battlefield, and bullets without mercy were immediately directed at him. Malashenko hit him all over the face.
Da da da da——
Malashenko, who was swept away by the German infantrymen holding submachine guns, had to throw himself to the ground and temporarily hide. But even so, Malashenko, who had already crossed the river and could not save himself, still held on tightly. There was no intention of giving up the clothes that lived in Nikolai.
At this moment, Lavrinenko, who was holding a Bobosha submachine gun and running quickly sideways while firing from the waist, took advantage of the situation and rolled around, catching up with the German troops who were temporarily suppressed by the super high rate of fire of Bobosha. He avoided the aiming gun line before raising his head.
Lavrinenko, who rolled into the traffic ditch where Malashenko was, didn't say much. He immediately reached forward and held Nikolai's chin in his right hand and shook it left and right to check the injury on his face.
Just when Lavrinenko was about to speak to Malashenko after taking three seconds to check, Nikolai, who had been in a shallow coma just now, suddenly retched and spit out two mouthfuls of blood. Wake up.
"Nikolai!"
The most excited person after hearing these two retching sounds was Malashenko.
With all his expressions and true inner thoughts written on his face, the emotional Malashenko immediately worked harder to take Nikolai away after confirming that he was still alive.
"Hold on, Nikolai! I'm getting you out of here!"
Lavrinenko, who said nothing during the whole process, seemed to acquiesce and just let Malashenko do what he did. Lavrinenko, who held the weapon tightly in his hand, was worried about the German troops who might pounce at any time. Infantrymen, the intensive gunshots were ringing crazily in their ears almost no distance away.
Just as he was dragging Nikolai out as before, two German infantrymen who rushed up quickly after Lavrinenko had already rushed into the trench and raised their weapons.
With his back to Malashenko, Lavrinenko, who was already prepared, immediately pulled the trigger without hesitation. The extremely fast-firing Bobosha submachine gun killed the first German soldier before he even touched the ground. Human Flesh Sieve died suddenly on the spot.
Lavrinenko, who killed one enemy, used the fastest reaction speed and pointed the gun at the second German soldier behind him. After resolutely pulling the trigger, there was no roar of firepower but a soft sound of the firing pin emptying. .
"Bullets! No more bullets!?"
With a look full of surprise, Lavrinenko glanced at the Bobosha in his hand who had dropped the ball at the critical moment. Lavrinenko, who didn't even bother to curse, threw it away before he could think about it. His free right hand immediately touched his waist. The Tokarev pistol on the weapon belt was already moving at extremely high speed.
But even though Lavrinenko's reaction speed is very commendable, the three seconds of time to throw the gun away and then draw it out still seems extremely long at this critical moment of lightning.
When it comes to tank skills, no one except Malashenko dares to say that he is more professional than Lavrinenko, but when it comes to using light weapons to fight, even an ordinary German soldier is better than Lavrinenko, who has obvious shortcomings. Do better.
The fact that his comrade was killed by more than ten bullets and fell to the ground did not stop the second German infantryman who jumped into the traffic trench. The German corporal holding the MP40 submachine gun tightly in his hand was obviously faster than Lavrinenko. More than once, the black muzzle of the gun with his finger on the trigger was already aimed at the target just as Lavrinenko's right hand touched the holster.
"It's over"
boom--
The gunshot that almost made Lavrinenko despair was not the crisp, stapler-like sound of the German MP40 submachine gun, but the powerful thunderous roar of the powerful Tokarev TT33 pistol.
Looking at his bloody chest with an expression of disbelief, the German corporal's eyes were full of unwillingness and disbelief. He was like a puppet with its strings cut off. The strength in his body was quickly drained and he collapsed on the spot. Go down.
The person holding the Tokarev pistol tremblingly in his right hand stained with his own blood was none other than Nikolai, who was seriously injured while being dragged along by Malashenko.
After doing all this, Nikolai did not stop there. Instead, he used all his strength to push back Malashenko who was holding him by the collar. His throat was covered with blood and he could not even speak. His voice has been distorted to the point of changing its flavor.
"Let's go! Let's go quickly! Don't let everyone be unable to leave!"
Before Malashenko, who was pushed by Nikolai and sat on the ground, could react, Lavrinenko, who picked up the Bobosha submachine gun without bullets, had already taken the lead and directly used his strong and powerful hands to pull the horse away. Rashenko forcibly pulled him up from the ground and ran away.
Malashenko, who suddenly realized what Lavrinenko was going to do, immediately began to struggle violently, screaming for Lavrinenko to let go of him and Nikolai's name.
But this time, no matter how hard Malashenko tried, Lavrinenko grabbed his chest with his right hand and dragged him back forcibly, but he would not let go, clamping Malashenko tightly like a pair of steel pliers. Just drag it away with unstoppable force.
The German soldier who climbed onto the tank body kicked the weapon out of the hand of the driver who had just climbed out of the hatch and was also seriously injured. He raised the MP40 submachine gun in his hand, aimed it at the door, and without hesitation pulled the trigger. The life of the paralyzed KV1 heavy tank driver was ended in a flash of gunfire.
Nikolai, whose ears were echoing with the increasingly dense gunfire from the German army, took one last look back at the man who was already drifting away, but who had an unforgettable significance to him until his death.
Nikolai, who was smiling with a bloody smile, didn't even have the strength to stand up. He forced his trembling left hand to lean his body against the earthen wall of the traffic trench, facing the approaching footsteps in front of him but not yet. The direction in which the figure appeared slowly raised the gun in his right hand.
The last thing Malashenko saw, who was howling so wildly that his voice was almost hoarse, was the German infantrymen who were swarming up in the traffic trench with only their M35 helmets exposed on their heads. After losing one person to one shot, The scene of angrily waving bayonets, rifles and butts in their hands and attacking in groups.
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