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the President a military Kalashnikov assault rifle rested. A sign of how the power had shifted, Yulin thought. |
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''Bring them to the table," Cherny ordered. "Seat them across from me. You, Yulin, sit beside me." |
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"I'd rather stand, sir," Yulin said, positioning himself to the right and behind Cherny. He folded his arms across his chest, head up, chin out, the very picture of integrity. |
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The prisoners were roughly shoved over to the metal chairs now four in number and pushed down into them. Their guards wore field kit and carried sidearms. The show of weaponry made Yulin caress the grip of the Makarov pistol in his uniform's polished leather holster. |
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"What now, Aleksandr Borisovich? I demand to be set free!" Marshal Suvorov growled irritably, still resisting complete surrender. "I have done nothingit's all lies." |
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Aleyev, for once sober, and appearing much the worse for it, peered past Cherny's shoulder to look at Yulin and said, "Are you content? See what you have brought us to with your treachery!" He spat at Yulin's feet with great accuracy. |
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"How typical of you to try to put the blame elsewhere. You brought this on yourself with your fascist dreams," Yulin shouted defensively. |
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Kalinin ignored his fellow prisoners. He spoke directly to Cherny. "I joined Soyuz less than ten days ago, Mr. President. I was not involved in the initial planning, nor was I ever entrusted with any primary task. I" |
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But Cherny was concentrating on Piotr Kondratiev, watching his reactions. The former KGB general said scornfully, "The hero of Afghanistan speaks." |
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Aleksandr Cherny said slowly, still looking at Kondratiev. "You are under sentence of death. All of you. But I would prefer not to take your lives. Tell me now how deep the rot has gone within my administration, and without. Who else is involvedwhat troops?" Kondratiev looked back at Cherny in silence, shoulders slumped in a fusion of willfulness and resignation. |
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