"Comrade Commander, have you heard?" Noblanca and Galiman burst in, Noblanca holding a Cuban newspaper. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

Rain on someone's parade...... I sighed from the bottom of my heart and closed the Spanish book in my hand.

If it hadn't been for their sudden breakdown, it would have been a beautiful afternoon. The warm sun of Latin America spills into the rooms through the windows of the somewhat modest but at least clean apartment buildings, and spills over the 30-square-meter bedrooms.

I'm beginning to imagine the lives of Cuba's big sugar producers and tobacco farmers: bathed in the warm sun, reading the warm Latin American idyll on a rocking chair with his legs crossed. The babbling electric fan next to him turned its head, and even the hot air coming out of the coffee cup in his hand fluttered in all directions......

If this is the way of life every day, it is no wonder that the down-and-out Cuban landowners in Miami hate Comrade Castro's revolution to the core.

"Comrade Commander, you ...... Listening? "Garriman pulled me back from fantasy to reality. He glanced curiously at the title of the book I was looking at and exclaimed softly, "This is not ......"

Forget it, reality is crueler than fantasy. Cuba's "new aristocracy" does not live in apartment buildings in big cities, but in manor villas with no end in sight; Nor would they waste a good afternoon reading the tools of foolishness that they had decreed to publish, full of diseaseless moanings, but should count the proceeds of the exploitation of slaves; Looking out the window, there will be no large posters on the streets with bright and clean windows, full of vigorous residents, I am afraid that it should be endless slums and smelly garbage, military and police guarding armored vehicles, throwing stones or firing, whether blocking the road or creating graffiti of "police die", whether in the dark or in the crowd of people who are dodging.

"I'm sorry, I thought of something else," I said, tucking a bookmark of an oak leaf into the page, "yes, Before Darkness Fell." You can't buy them in Cuban libraries and bookstores, and even fewer in Russian, so if you really want to go to the black market. This topic comes back to that. Comrade Noblanca, tell me, what's going on? ”

"It's a big deal. Comrade commander, have you read this? Noblanca said, placing a newspaper on my lap.

It was a "Laborer's Daily," and the headline on the front page of the newspaper read, "Comrade Erich von Ian died a heroic death at the Cuban People's Hospital at noon today."

As a front-page headline, it was accompanied by several color photos of Ian taken by war correspondents.

"I heard that Ian hated reporters for bragging about his exploits, and especially hated it when people asked him to get to the bottom of his family history," Noblanga said, "especially this one, and he reluctantly agreed to hear that his superiors ordered him to 'take pictures as a military mission.'" ”

Noblanca pointed to one of the photographs. It was Ian sitting on a wrecked prism tank, unaware that the reporter was taking pictures, his gaze diagonally diagonally towards the tank, presumably on the ground next to the reporter. An assault rifle was held in front of his stomach with his elbow and kneecap, and his eyes seemed to be thoughtful.

Ian...... I've heard the name. Coalition fighters in the North American theater, at least in the northeastern Caribbean, often compare me to him, consciously or unconsciously. Before I came here, Ian had been considered the strongest coalition fighter.

Until five months ago, in the city of La Greda Lostowin (formerly Miami, after the liberation it was renamed the city of Walladimo, which means "Verradimore" in Spanish). After the February Mutiny, it was renamed "Shark's Lair"), and he found that his hand speed really couldn't beat me, and he didn't even react as fast as I did with every move.

But I knew that the reason why I was able to defeat Ian that time was not about my usual training and muscle coordination and reflexes, but because of my "special ability" that I don't know where it came from. If it weren't for the fact that I "foresaw Comrade Ian's every move"...... I can't beat him.

And that time, I saw in his eyes that he wasn't so happy. When it came time to strike, he told me with the look in his eyes that all his thoughts were not focused on the fight.

Why is he distracted? I remember when I threw Ian across the road, the captain who caught him was a female soldier about his age. In her eyes, I saw the reason.

"New Orleans...... Is there anything worth caring about him? "I was thinking.

I still remember that just last month, his "Red Frost Moon Squadron" was basically wiped out. In the Third Battle of Louisiana, 100 members of the "Red Frost Moon Squadron" blocked 50,000 Yuri troops and 10,000 puppet troops of the coalition army for ten days and ten nights, and the "French Neighborhood Blockade" shocked the world.

"If we communist fighters had such courage, Yuri and Dugan's heads would have hung on Red Square a long time ago," Noblanca sighed affectionately as he recalled the French neighborhood blockade, "even if they are placed in the storm team, they are considered top fighters." ”

"Grancham, straighten the portrait of Lenin, watch out for the portrait of Generalissimo Villadimore, and come over - Comrade Nobranga, don't say you've only seen this," I picked up the newspaper and flipped to the third page, handing them the detailed description of the "French Neighborhood Blockade," "New Orleans is the main battlefield, and there are several friendly forces near the 'Red Frost Moon Squadron'. Even if they are too late, there is still a division of the North American international column here, only two kilometers away from them. What kind of commander, and what kind of allies, could make such a low-level mistake? ”

"Comrade Mark!" Noblanca warned with a serious expression, "If this kind of direct sarcasm at the top is heard by the rebels, they will not laugh it off like I did......

"Okay, my Comrade Commissar, thank you for the reminder, I know this very well," I chuckled and held out a hand to tell him to stop, "but Comrade Commissar Noblanga specifically said that this matter should not be delivered on behalf of Najib. Why is that? Could it be that the General Political Department has issued some important directive asking us to learn from the new issue of glorious combat heroes? ”

Gran Zangmu had just moved his chair and fell to the floor laughing before he could sit down. Garriman leaned back and laughed even more. This is actually pure nonsense, if Noblanca was this kind of chattering commissar, I would have kicked him away as I did with the first two political commissars (for the rest of the troops, the commissars of the storm team are basically vassals of the military chiefs. ）

Noblanca was the only one who didn't laugh. Seeing this scene, I immediately put away my smile, which I had only a hint of laughter. Looks like something big is coming.

"What's going on?" I asked solemnly.

"If I say," Noblanca replied slowly, "today...... I saw Comrade Ian alive...... Can you believe it? ”

Ian...... What he said was......

"Impossible!" Gran Zangmu jumped up in a hurry and shouted, "Comrade Commissar, are you mistaken? Probably looks about ......."

Noranga and Gariman were explaining to Granzangm why they saw Ian as the real Comrade Ian, but I wasn't interested in hearing it. Walking out onto the balcony, I grabbed my binoculars and looked out at the Second Hospital of the Cuban People.

No one knows what I did in those thirty minutes. All they know is that I was on the balcony and slowly spit out: "Comrade Noblanca is not mistaken, it's just a pity." ”

It wasn't long before Noblang and Galiman, who had received no advice from me, left, and Granzang sent them out.

Ten minutes later, looking at the waning sky, I spat out the first sentence in half an hour: "Another good morning has been wasted." ”

Granzangm is back. "Comrade Makyebka, I am really sorry for this news," he said softly, "with the strength of Comrade Ian...... He was supposed to ......"

"He should be part of our plan, right?" I sat on the brass railing and turned to Glenzangmu, who was behind me the brightly lit and clean Independence Street.

"Don't think about it," I replied softly with a wave of my hand, "anyone can join us, but this one Ian can't." ”

"As long as he is a descendant of 'Glory 1956', Lomanov is his enemy."

"But the military rules and discipline of communist soldiers are more important than everything in his eyes."

"Well......" Granzang sighed, "if I hadn't met you...... Maybe I'll choose to defect ......"

"Thank you for your trust. By the way, do you know where that place is? I pointed to the Second People's Hospital of Cuba, which was not far away.

"The Second People's Hospital of Cuba," replied Granzang, "is also where Comrade Noblanca thinks he sees Comrade Ian." ”

"Yes," I said softly, "you should be glad that I was the first person to be told about it by Noblanga." If I change it...... Hospital Zero was exposed. ”