red moscow

Chapter 2950

The two first took a group photo, and then Sokov asked the photographer to take a solo photo of each of them.

After the photoshoot was finished, the female photographer took out a small notebook from her pocket, wrote a few lines on one of the pages, tore it off, and handed it to Khabarov: "Comrade soldier, this is the receipt for picking up the photos. Please keep it safe!"

Khabarov glanced at the amount on the handwritten receipt, took the money out of his wallet, and handed it to the photographer girl.

Seeing the female photographer take the money and prepare to leave, Sokov quickly called out to her, "Miss, please wait a moment!"

The photographer stopped and turned to look at Sokov, a puzzled expression on her face: "Comrade Commander, is there anything else?"

“I have a friend coming over,” Sokov explained with a smile. “I’d like you to take a picture of us together, and a few more for him.”

“No problem.” The girl held up her camera. “I’ve just run out of film, so I need to go back to the store to get a new roll. If your friend comes over after I leave, please ask him to wait a moment. I’ll be right back.”

"OK, go ahead."

"By the way, Commander. My name is Kononova." Before leaving the square, the photographer said to Sokov, "If my friend arrives before I come, you can find me in the shop. Just tell the receptionist my name."

“Kononova, that’s a nice name.” Sokov nodded to her. “I’ll remember it. I’ll come find you when my friend arrives.”

After Kononova left, Sokov pulled Khabarov aside and whispered, "Anton, where did you get so much money? Did you find a money bag that fell off an armored truck on the street? Otherwise, I have no way of explaining how you could have so much money."

"Misha, do you still remember Kalashnikov?"

“Nonsense, how could I not remember him?” Sokov looked around and lowered his voice, “The first design blueprint you gave to the Weapons and Equipment Department was Kalashnikov’s AK47 blueprint.”

"Do you also know how many awards Kalashnikov received for designing the AK-47 in real history?"

Sokov thought for a moment and replied, "I think it was 100,000 rubles." Seeing Khabarov's lips curl slightly upward, he immediately thought of a possibility, "Anton, are you trying to tell me that this money is a reward from your superiors?"

“That’s right.” Khabarov nodded vigorously, giving Sokov a positive answer: “After several rounds of testing, the military experts praised the AK47 highly, so my superiors specially awarded me 20,000 rubles.”

"Twenty thousand rubles?" Sokov asked in surprise. "How come it's eighty thousand less? Wasn't Kalashnikov awarded one hundred thousand rubles?"

"Twenty thousand would be good enough." Although Khabarov's prize money was only one-fifth of Kalashnikov's, he was clearly quite content: "In this era of scarcity, even with a lot of money, you can't buy much. Besides, we might go back any day, and this money would just be a pile of worthless paper, of no use."

Khabarov said that bringing back money from that era was useless, a sentiment Sokov wholeheartedly agreed with. Currency that had long since ceased circulation was likely to be of little interest, except to a few coin collectors; it would probably be left lying on the ground untouched. Later, Sokov accompanied Khabarov to an abandoned missile silo, where he saw piles of garbage near the silo's opening. Upon closer inspection, he discovered it was all worthless rubles.

Sokov put a hand on Khabarov's shoulder and said to him, "You're so rich, you'll be in charge of all the expenses for the three of us later."

“No problem, no problem,” Khabarov said rather proudly. “I paid for the photo shoot just now.”

The two chatted for a while, and then they saw Yakov rushing over.

He approached Sokov and said apologetically, "Misha, I'm so sorry, the subway was so crowded, I couldn't get on for ages, which made us wait."

“It’s alright, we haven’t been here long.” Sokov remembered his promise to Kononova and quickly said to Yakov, “Anton and I just took a picture here. Since you’re here, let’s take a three-person picture later.”

“That works too.” Yakov glanced around and, not finding any photographer, said to Sokov, “There’s a photo studio next to the square. Let’s go there and find a photographer to come and take pictures of the three of us.”

“Sure,” Sokov readily agreed. “The photographer went back to change the film on her camera and hasn’t come back yet. We can go and call her.”

"You two go ahead." Khabarov saw a young and pretty girl walking by in the distance and wanted to go up and chat with her. Naturally, he didn't want to go with Sokov and Yakov to find the photographer, so he waved to the two of them: "I'll wait for you here."

Sokov didn't insist and led Yakov toward the location of the photo studio.

On the way, before Sokov could even ask Khabarov about his situation at the Armaments Department these past few days, Yakov interjected, "Misha, your decision to send Anton to the Armaments Department was absolutely correct. The new rifle he designed last time received a bonus of 20,000 rubles from his superiors. And the newly drawn blueprints for the anti-tank rocket launcher have also received unanimous praise from military experts. If it passes the tests, I imagine he'll receive another hefty reward."

Sokov's main concern wasn't how much prize money Khabarov received, but when the AK-47, which had been released ahead of schedule, would be issued to the troops. At the very least, he wanted his own troops to have this superior weapon first: "Yasa, I just want to know, when will this new rifle be issued to the troops?"

Yakov fell silent.

After a while, he finally spoke, "Misha, it's clearly unrealistic to expect this new rifle to be deployed to the troops in a short time." Seeing Sokov's furrowed brow, he quickly explained, "When I say this rifle can't be deployed, I don't mean there's anything wrong with its manufacturing that affects its production. Rather, it's that the ammunition used in this rifle is different from the ammunition our army currently uses. Unless a new ammunition production line is established, it's simply impossible to meet the demand for this rifle."

Sokov understood that while the AK-47 itself wasn't complicated to manufacture, producing the ammunition for it was quite challenging. However, he was unwilling to accept that the AK-47 was already in development but not being used on the battlefield; wouldn't that be a waste?

Thinking of this, he cautiously asked Yakov, "Yasha, I know that it's obviously unrealistic to equip the entire army with this kind of firearm under the current circumstances. But could you discuss with Comrade Ustinov about producing a batch of new rifles and matching ammunition specifically for my troops? You know, whether a new firearm is effective or not still needs to be tested in actual combat. After the higher-ups have seen how well it performs in use, they will decide whether to equip the troops with this rifle."

Yakov frowned and thought for a moment, then asked, "Misha, you've been in Moscow for five or six days now, when will you be able to return to the front lines?"

"Tomorrow," Sokov blurted out, "I've already received orders to return to the unit first thing tomorrow morning."

Upon learning that Sokov was about to return to his unit, Yakov seemed secretly relieved and immediately said, "Alright, Misha, I'll see Comrade Ustinov tomorrow and convey your request to him, see what his opinion is." Although Sokov desperately wanted Yakov to produce AK-47s and matching ammunition for him immediately, he knew in his heart that although Yakov was in the Armaments Department, his voice carried little weight, and probably no one would take his words to heart. But regardless, Yakov was his only lifeline, and he had to cling to him desperately; otherwise, even if the AK-47s were produced, they might not be distributed to his troops.

He raised his hand and patted Yakov on the shoulder, saying, "Yasha, on behalf of the officers and soldiers of the unit, I thank you!"

"Come on, Misha, we're friends, you don't need to keep thanking me."

Yakov stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed intently ahead, as if he had spotted someone.

"Yasha, who did you see?" Sokov asked, looking ahead in the direction Yakov was pointing.

“Look, do you see that female officer in the blue hat?” Yakov pointed to a crowded area ahead and said, “I think she looks a bit like the female officer who rescued me.”

Sokov looked closely and indeed saw a familiar face in the crowd. It was the NKVD lieutenant who had rescued Yakov from the German POW camp with him. No, she was now a lieutenant, Lieutenant Alina.

“Yasha, you’re not mistaken, it really is Comrade Alina who rescued you.” Sokov first gave Yakov a positive answer, then asked for his opinion: “Shall we go and say hello to her?”

“Okay,” Yakov nodded. “She took me back to Moscow and then disappeared. I wanted to thank her, but I couldn’t.”

"Lieutenant Alina, Lieutenant Alina." As the two squeezed through the crowd, Sokov kept calling Alina's name, afraid that she would go somewhere else before he could get through.

Hearing someone call her name, Alina, who was talking to her female companion, looked around to see who was calling her.

Sokov squeezed in front of Alina and said somewhat excitedly, "Lieutenant Alina, we meet again."

Upon seeing Sokov suddenly appear before her, Alina's face showed a look of astonishment: "Lieutenant Colonel Sokov, when did you return to Moscow?"

"I've been back for several days," Sokov said with a smile. "I was strolling around Pushkin Square with a friend today, and I never expected to run into you here."

Alina reached out and shook hands with Sokov, then politely asked, "Are you alone?"

“No. I came with a friend,” Sokov said, pulling Yakov in front of Alina and smiling as he asked, “Alina, do you still know him?”

After seeing Yakov's face clearly, Alina's face showed a look of astonishment: "Lieutenant, it's you?"

“Yes, Lieutenant Alina. It’s me.” Yakov extended his hand to Alina and said in a friendly tone, “It’s been so long, and I haven’t had a chance to thank you in person. Thank you for saving my life.”

As Alina shook hands with Yakov, she said respectfully, "Lieutenant, rescuing you was my duty, so you don't need to thank me at all!"

“Alina,” Sokov glanced at the girl in casual clothes beside Alina and asked tentatively, “is this your companion?”

“Yes, Misha.” After the initial pleasantries, Alina’s address to Sokov became more intimate again: “Let me introduce you. This is my good friend Sveta. She is studying at the First Moscow State Medical College and plans to become a doctor after graduation.”

The First Moscow State Medical University was officially established in 1930. Its predecessor was the Medical School of Moscow State University. Later, it was renamed the First Sechenov First Moscow State Medical University. It is the number one medical school in Russia and Eastern Europe and a leading medical school in the world.

Sokov extended his hand and shook hands with Sveta, saying politely, "Hello, Sveta, it's a pleasure to meet you."

When Sveta shook hands with Sokov, his gaze drifted to Alina beside him, as if he wanted her to introduce Sokov's identity.

Alina saw through her companion's intentions, nodded, and said, "Sveta, this is Lieutenant Colonel Sokov, whom I often mention to you."

"So it's Lieutenant Colonel Sokov." Sveta's face lit up with surprise upon hearing Alina's words. "Hello! I've heard Alina mention you many times before."

Sokov smiled faintly and asked jokingly, "She wouldn't be saying all the bad things about me, would she?"

Sveta blushed and protested, "How could that be? Alina told me that she was promoted because of your help."

Next, Alina introduced Yakov to Sveta. Because she didn't reveal Yakov's true identity, Sveta was quite cold towards Yakov, but unusually enthusiastic towards Sokov: "Lieutenant Colonel, I see so many medals on your chest; you must have quite an impressive background. When are you free? Let's find a place to have coffee, and then you can tell me your story. Is that alright?"

“Sveta, although I would love to sit and chat with a beautiful young lady like you in a quiet coffee shop,” Sokov said regretfully, “I have to go back to the front tomorrow, so we’ll have to wait for another opportunity.”

"What? You're going back to the front lines tomorrow?" Sveta's face was full of disappointment when he heard Sokov say this.

Alina was equally surprised: "You're going back to the front lines tomorrow, is there some important mission you're undertaking?"

Sokov was unaware of any new arrangements his superiors might have made to send him back to the front lines the next day. Even if he did know, he couldn't possibly reveal military secrets in front of everyone. He shrugged, spread his hands, and said with a wry smile, "My orders are to return to the front lines tomorrow, but I don't know the specifics of my mission."

“Misha, since you’re going back to the front lines tomorrow, you should cherish this rare opportunity,” Alina said. “Before tomorrow comes, could you show us around a bit?”

“Of course,” Sokov said, glancing towards the photo studio. He saw Kononova hurrying out of the shop with a camera, seemingly heading to the square to continue taking pictures. Seeing this, Sokov quickly added, “How about we take a few pictures first?”

(End of this chapter)