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"Siberia is out of style, I understand," Admiral Aleyev said. "Too bad, I might see some old friends there." |
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"For Russia, Piotr Ivanovich," Cherny said, almost entreating. Then, when Kondratiev continued his silence, he said heavily, "It is on your head, if the device detonates on December 7." |
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No one spoke. Kalinin and Suvorov don't yet grasp the full danger. Aleyev doesn't give a damn. Kondratiev's arrogance feeds his ego, and he still thinks he can win. Not one of them believes him, Ivan Yulin thought; they think he is too weak, too soft. But they will eventually talk, in Kondratiev's case if only to brag. They will admit everything. They will talk, and then those who dreamed of Soyuz's success will be lost. |
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"How brave you all are with your schemes," Cherny whispered. "How clever. Cleverer than poor Milstein. Cleverer than I." He reached down beside his chair and lifted the assault rifle off the floor, handling it awkwardly. |
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Yulin watched with horrified fascination. He won't do it. He can't. Men like Cherny don't kill. Yulin searched the expressions on the prisoners' faces. They ranged from fearlessness to terror. Kalinin was weakening. And it would only take one to bring me to ruination, Yulin thought. He moved swiftly around the table behind the prisoners, motioning to the guards to step back. |
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As Yuri Kalinin opened his mouth to speak, almost without pause, General Ivan Yulin unholstered the service automatic at his waist and fired a bullet into the base of Kalinin's skull. In rapid succession, he shot Admiral Aleyev, then Marshal Suvorov, and finally Piotr Kondratiev. |
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The room exploded into bedlam. The prisoners' guards leveled their Kalashnikovs. Ivan Yulin threw his weapon to the floor, raised his hands above his head, and cried out, "I acted for Russia and for my President!" |
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Aleksandr Cherny looked at the carnage, unbelieving. As he sat, unable to move, a hand descended upon his shoulder. |
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