Struggle in Soviet Russia

In the underground interrogation room of the Central Prison of the NKVD, Victor was sitting in a daze on an iron chair with a cigarette in his mouth.

Opposite him, Sophia leaned her plump buttocks on the edge of a table of the same iron, with her left leg on the ground and her right leg in the air. She was taking off her military boots on her right foot. She had just gone out and was The torrential rain wet the skirt and water in the army boots, making it a bit uncomfortable now.

The interrogation room is located on the basement level. There is only one small window that is less than 30 cm long and less than 15 cm wide. This small window is only less than half a meter higher than the ground. Therefore, the projected light is very limited, and the light is not turned on. At that time, the room was as dark as the underworld, ghastly.

A knock on the door sounded at this moment. Sophia glanced at Victor, who was still wandering, and coughed slightly.

Victor returned to his senses and gave her a dazed look.

Sophia lifted the high boots in her hands, shrugged, and glanced in the direction of the door again.

Only then did Victor react. He got up from his chair, walked to the door, and opened the closed door.

"Comrade Colonel, we have brought Atamonova back," a sergeant stood outside the door, and he saluted when he saw Victor.

"Got it," Victor nodded, and said, "arranged to Interrogation Room 6."

"Yes!" The sergeant replied, saluted again, and turned to leave.

Closing the door again, Victor returned to the front of his chair, dropped the nearly burnt **** in his hand, and took out the cigarette from his pocket, ready to light another one.

Sophia glanced at him, took off the other army boot first, and then walked over, and the probing hand pulled the cigarette from his lips into his own mouth.

"A lot of pressure?" Sophia asked vaguely while reaching out to take the lighter away from Victor's hand.

Victor sighed and moved his back into the back of the chair. The iron chair was very uncomfortable. He moved his body twice and found the most comfortable position. Then he looked up at Sophia slightly and said, "Nothing, I'm used to it, but this time the deadline is a little bit. Short, so the pressure is a little bit more."

"It's fair for a big man to bear a lot of pressure," Sophia had already lit a cigarette, she took a puff, put the lighter directly into her jacket pocket, and laughed.

Sophia smokes like... how to describe it, very dusty, always feel that smoking is not in line with her always cold temperament.

"Actually, you don't have to put so much pressure on yourself," Sofia returned to the iron table with a cigarette, turned her back in Victor's direction, lifted her skirt up, and took off the light brown silk stockings inside. "I In the past two years in Ukraine, many cases have been handled. How many cases can really be found out of this?"

Throwing the wet stockings directly on the table, Sophia put the army boots back on the ground again, and continued to say: "Since your deadline is only two and a half days, then what you should consider is not to find out the truth, but to find out the truth. Find the most reasonable object of suspicion, and then surround him to fill in the evidence. As long as the evidence is sufficient and the story is reasonable, then it is the truth."

Victor naturally understood what she meant. In fact, let alone the current conditions, even in the age before his rebirth, how many realistic cases could finally be solved?

I remember seeing a joke about Comrade Beria in his previous life, saying that Comrade Stalin’s favorite wooden pipe could not be found, so he was very angry and found Beria and asked him to retrieve the pipe within a time limit. Comrade Beria gladly took the order and summoned a team of senior detectives from the NKVD to handle the case, and the results were quickly obtained. He unearthed a small counter-revolutionary group of 12 people from the Kremlin. They stole the pipe, and these people confessed to the crime. Then... Comrade Stalin found the missing pipe under his sofa.

In this world, most of the time the truth is not important. What is important is what the "truth" people like to see. It is often better to give people what they like than to give them the truth.

"What's the matter with the scar on the leg?" Victor forcibly twisted his thoughts back from the crooked road, he turned off the subject and asked.

"Here?" Sophia looked down, raised his right leg, touched the six or seven centimeters long scar on the outside of his calf, and said, "The bruise was caused when Kiev retreated."

After saying this, she realized that Victor had deliberately changed the subject, so she smiled helplessly, and said: "That Atamonova will be handed over to me for trial, and she promises to let her speak soon."

Victor hesitated for a moment, and finally nodded his head in recognition.

Sophia tidied up her skirt and walked towards the door. Just as she was about to walk to the door, she stopped again, then she turned around and walked back to Victor again.

"You need a good night's sleep now, Victor," Bending down, Sophia put her face in front of Victor, put her forehead on his forehead, and at the same time stretched out her hand to stroke his face, and said, "You said That kind of pressure shouldn’t exist at all. Do you know why?”

Victor felt the heat erupting from her nose, and his eyes saw the inexplicable brilliance of her blue eyes.

"For you, this case is a pressure, but for many people doing things below, it is an opportunity," Sophia stared into his eyes and said, "You are a big man, you know? You need to do something. , Is to hand the case to those who see the opportunity to handle, and then tell them at a suitable time, as long as the **** case is solved within the specified time, they will get what they deserve. Then, Victor, trust me, you can get a result that satisfies everyone without waiting for the deadline."

After these words, Sophia stood up and went straight out.

Seeing her leaving behind, Victor slowly put away the complicated expression on his face until the heavy iron door banged shut.

Sophia's advice is not just for this case, but for his personal behavior.

In the past, when Victor handled any case, he always paid attention to the truth. In almost every case, he had to go through everything by himself. He had to examine all exhibits, testimonies, etc., by himself.

What Sophia told him was to make him recognize that he was a "big man". For him, those cases are pressure and need to ask for the truth. For the people below, every case is an opportunity. They may be searching for the truth or not, but what is certain is that they don't want to let go of every opportunity, and they want to get a result in every case.

As a "big man", what Victor has to do is not to blindly pursue the truth, but to find a balance between the truth and giving his subordinates opportunities. At least, let those who work for him and those who follow him see more. Hopefully.

Since rebirth, Victor has not had much ambition for his new life. His first pursuit was to live, then he wanted to live as a good person, and then he wanted to live as a good person as comfortable as possible. But the reality is telling him little by little: it’s okay to live, and it’s okay to live comfortably, but if you want to be a good person, especially a purely good person, you have to give up the first two requirements—perhaps "Human" and "good" are in opposition to each other. People who insist on combining them will not end well.

With a sigh of strength, as if trying to exhaust the depression in his chest, Victor threw out the mess of thoughts in his mind. He accepted Sophia's suggestion, leaning back on the chair and closing his eyes to rest.

After two consecutive days of sleeplessness, coupled with high mental tension, Victor's fatigue has penetrated into his bones. Originally, he only wanted to lean for a while, close his eyes, and even fell asleep.

I don't know how long it took, the sound of the door opening awakened him from sleep, his body shook suddenly, and he almost fell off the chair.

At the door, Sophia was walking in with a few pieces of paper.

Victor wiped his face, awake, and when he took a closer look, he found that Sophia's hands were covered with blood, and even the skirt and front of the military uniform were splattered with blood.

She seemed to be a little tired and walked to the iron table, threw the pages of paper in her hand on the table, and said, "Okay, I got the confession."

Victor got up and walked over, put the cigarette he took out of his pocket on the table, reached for the pieces of paper, and asked, "Is it the truth, or the result that everyone likes?"

Sophia glanced at him, reached out his hand to take the cigarette on the table, put the cigarette case directly to his mouth, took a cigarette out of it with his teeth, and said vaguely: "Is it important?"

Victor didn't ask any more, and looked down at the confession in his hand.

"It should be the truth." Sophia turned and walked to the washbasin opposite the interrogation room. "At least I didn't induce a confession. Everything in the testimony was confessed by the woman herself. If nothing else, it should be true."

Victor suddenly felt a sense of relief. He did not continue to look at the confession in his hand, but turned to look at Sophia by the sink.

"Major Yegrović has taken someone to capture Zorzu Ashvili," Sophia was washing her hands by the sink, her beautiful face reflected in the mirror in front of her, "Zozou Ashvili absconded. The possibility is not high, but the Boris Poporov has probably left Moscow, and I suspect that the name may be fake."

Victor doesn't even know what Boris? Who is Poporov, he hasn't read the confession yet, and his attention is not on it now.