As far as Yanayev himself is concerned, if one day a group of people around him jump out and tell you that they want to restore the interests of the bureaucratic base of the Brezhnev period and enjoy the privileged class, and he is not able to put things in order, and if he interferes, he will ask the other party, whether you are speaking from the position of the party or from the position of the people, then the first reaction of the general secretary will definitely be, bring my Kalashnikov here, I will clean up this group of traitors for Comrade Lenin and the motherland!

The privileged class is certainly not the result of socialist construction that Comrade Lenin emphasized at the beginning, and how could Comrade Lenin, who devoted his whole life to the elimination of the exploiting class, allow these dead souls to stand up again. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

In the Ministry of Defense building, Deputy Minister Balaklov sits in his office, black coffee in his hand, and his eyes are glued to the bustling downtown street outside the window. The phone on the desk rang every half hour, and the Dzerzhinsky division, loyal to Vladimir, coordinated with the tank units in the direction of the White House.

As the tanks advanced on the road, the citizens of Moscow cast horrified eyes, whispered and hurried to dodge the advancing steel troops, these tanks reminded them of the bloody events of the year.

The scene of 1991 is recreated today, and the chariot of steel is a lingering nightmare of that bloody coup.

Now, they're back.

In order to protect the entire Red Republic, the icy cold wind could not stop the steel tracks from advancing, the stout steel turret was aimed at the street at the end of the road, and the flag on the top floor of the White House building loomed in the sight of the observer.

"Pathetic Lukyanov, you have no idea what's going on......"

Balaklov looked through the glass at the pedestrians on Abbaskaya Square, an undercurrent of political struggle that would shatter the peace with a tank invasion. Perhaps Lukyanov was confidently hiding in the White House and preparing to clean up Vladimir, unaware that the 125mm gun was already aimed at his head.

That was the last trump card for all of Moscow.

Balaklov snapped the book shut and looked up, his slender eyes narrowed by the light. He waited calmly until the phone rang again.

Bell bell ~

Balaklov picked up the phone, and the voice on the other end was the commander of the Dzerzhinsky division, with Comrade Yazov, a graduate of the Frunze Academy, as the commander-in-chief of the operation.

Yazov, who had not commanded a military operation for a long time, seemed to be eager to try, and the cold blood of the Slavs' belligerence boiled again, he missed Beslan, missed the Chechen war, missed the revenge of the camellia incident, but he could not miss this grand ceremony to send off old friends.

Tonight, the First Minister of Defense, Comrade Yazov, will join the hunt.

In the BMP3 infantry tank, the violent sound of the engine made Yazov have to cover his right ear and raise the volume to communicate with Baraklov. He shouted at the top of his voice, almost knocking, "Now we are on the way to the White House, and the infantry chariots of the Dzerzhinsky division are ready to surround the White House!" Then the tank and armored divisions are also ready to reach their destination and launch a final surprise attack! ”

Exciting news.

The voice on the phone was choppy and the loud noise interfered with the communication, but Balaklov still had to explain everything to the old and strong Yazov.

"Roger, Comrade Yazov, now that the Taman division has entered the field to surround the White House, Lukyanov will not be able to escape!"

Balaklov's Taman Division was turning the White House into an impenetrable prison, and he could even imagine the hemispherical turret towers on tracked armored vehicles rotating neatly, aiming at the windows of the White House's high-rise buildings, and the nervous eyes hiding behind them -- a cordial greeting from the Kremlin.

Yazov didn't hear clearly, and was still shouting to ask Balaklov if he heard clearly, and he could only repeat what he had said before.

"I got it!"

Balaklov waved his hand, eager to see what the faces of the opposition in the White House were like.

The Minister of Defense's words were interrupted by the driver of the BMP infantry tank, who turned to Comrade Yazov in the infantry cabin and said, "Minister of Defense, I'm sorry to disturb you, there is the White House in front of you, no matter what happens later, please sit in the car and don't come out." ”

"What are you kidding, how can I command the attack if I don't go out?"

Yazov knocked on the steel hatch very dissatisfied, and said, "Young man, I am not here to visit, I am the commander of the front line in this attack. There is no reason to hide behind it. ”

"Sniper." "We are afraid that they have deployed snipers, and when you appear in Abbaskaya Square, they will give you a fatal blow, and you will only be safest in the infantry cabin." Our mission is to protect you from any harm. ”

T72 tanks and BMP infantry tanks surrounded the White House, and the soldiers hid behind the tanks, cautiously lurking and did not dare to look up, they were afraid that snipers lurked behind the invisible glass, looking for their prey in the eyepieces.

The steel helmets that crept out of the armor plates, and some figures running with small steps, were all targets for them to pull the trigger. Not to mention Comrade Yazov, the owner of the building of the Ministry of Defense, who stood outside at the very first moment he would have been shot at a corpse riddled with thousands of holes, which was terrible.

On the square, T72 tanks one after another formed a ring of steel, encircling the Ministry of Defense building in the center. The turret was stretched in a uniform direction, and the tank crew in the cockpit could be seen through the periscope that the armed soldiers walking back and forth in the lobby on the ground floor of the White House were looking for cover.

They are still putting up their last standings, and at the same time they are the last concern for Yazov's offensive, because in the event of a final battle, casualties are bound to occur. The battle plan for the siege of the White House is being watched by the embassies of other countries, and Yazov hopes that the matter will be resolved peacefully and with fewer casualties. After all, it was an internal struggle in the Soviet Union, and it was inconvenient to put it on the stage.

Minister Yazov waved his hand, very disdainful of the soldiers' worries, "Snipers? Do you think Lukyanov really dared to tear his face? I'm dead, and he's not doing any good. At that time, it will not be sent to Siberia, but directly to the gallows. Lukyanov was at a disadvantage, and he did not dare to rashly make a move that went too far. The difference between politicians and military personnel is that the former will find ways to protect their own interests, and it is too difficult for them to give up some of their interests to keep the core. ”

"But ......"

The captain wanted to say something, but was interrupted by Yazov, who waved his hand and his expression was unwavering in the dimly lit cockpit, "Okay, nothing but, I will be responsible for the safety of my life." Your main task is not to protect me, but to take the White House and arrest all the armed men involved in the fighting. ”

After saying that, he didn't pay attention to it, he grabbed the olive-green SSH68 steel helmet, put it on his head, banged on the hatch door with his fist, ordered the soldiers to open the door, and shouted loudly at the top of his voice, "Let me out, I will personally teach that useless guy Lukyanov, what is absolute strength crushing!" ”

The hatch was opened, Yazov came out of the dark infantry cabin, looked at the steady stream of armored troops stationed in the square, he held on to the cold handrail, raised his eyes and looked at the White House in front of him, wondering if the person sitting inside was watching all this like him?

Yazov is ready for the last battle.

Salute all political enemies with artillery fire.

"Happy hunting."

"First Hunter" Yazov pressed the edge of the steel helmet, looked at the frightened prey in the White House, and said with a smile. (To be continued.) )