red moscow

Chapter 3103

“Although numerous pieces of evidence suggest that Braun, whom I assigned as the German translator, is very likely the person we are looking for, I think we cannot be careless out of caution. Once he arrives in person, I hope you will carefully verify his identity to ensure everything is foolproof.” Sokov, worried that Bakharov might overlook the weight of his words, emphasized, “You must understand that the success or failure of this matter directly relates to whether the four of us can successfully return to the future—this is no small matter!”

Sokov's last words struck Bakharov like a hammer blow, instantly making his expression serious. He nodded firmly and replied with a resolute gaze, "Don't worry, Sokov. Once I see Braun, I will thoroughly investigate and verify whether he is indeed my old friend."

"Have you considered what specific methods you would use to verify this?" Sokov pressed further.

Without much hesitation, Baharov blurted out, "Misha, do you have any suggestions? What do you think is the most reliable way for me to verify him?"

Sokov paused for a moment, then said clearly, "I suggest you ask him about a past event or detail that only the two of you know. If he can answer accurately, then it's basically certain that he is indeed the Braun you're talking about."

“Okay, let’s do it this way. When he comes, I’ll use this method to test him and see if he knows anything about a private matter between us.”

Just as they were talking, a clear "Report!" suddenly came from outside the office door.

Sokov gestured towards the door and said, "Please come in!"

Captain Bobrikov entered. He stood at attention, saluted, and said in a loud voice, "Comrade Brigadier, I have brought the German translator you requested. He is waiting outside. Shall I invite him in?"

“Of course, please invite him in.” Sokov nodded to Bobrikov and said in a more gentle tone, “Comrade Captain, thank you for your hard work. There’s nothing else for you to handle here for the time being, you can go back and rest.”

Bobrikov saluted again, then turned and left the room. No sooner had he left than the German translator, Braun, nervously and almost tiptoed in.

Braun turned to Sokov and asked cautiously and somewhat nervously, "Lieutenant Colonel, is there something you need from me?"

Sokov didn't answer directly. Instead, he gestured to Bakharov, who was standing up across the table, and said in a calm tone, "Braun, take a look—do you know this person?"

Braun looked in the direction Sokov was pointing and his gaze met that of Bakharov, who had just stood up. He froze for a moment, then could hardly believe his eyes and exclaimed, "My God! Bakharov... is it really you?"

“Yes, I am Baharov.” Baharov stared at Braun, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle hint of scrutiny, and slowly asked, “Are you really Braun?”

Baharov's reaction completely surprised Braun, leaving him momentarily bewildered. Braun looked utterly astonished, almost blurting out, "Baharov, what's wrong with you? We've been friends for years! Don't you even recognize me? What's going on?" "Braun," Baharov said, still looking at him, his voice low and clear, "since you can answer accurately, perhaps it will prove that you are indeed that person."

“Ask away,” Braun replied, though he was filled with confusion and unease.

“I ask you, on March 18, 2018, where were we and what did we do?” Bakharov said, enunciating each word clearly, his gaze never leaving the other person’s face.

Upon hearing the question, Braun was visibly taken aback, then frowned and fell into deep thought. He tried to search his memory for that particular day, attempting to find relevant fragments; countless scenes and conversations flashed through his mind, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact one.

Seeing that Braun did not respond for a long time, Baharov's brows gradually furrowed, and his tone became more suspicious: "What, can't you remember? Or are you not Braun at all?"

“Wait, I remember now, I remember!” Braun suddenly became excited, his speech quickening. “Weren’t we watching the 2018 European Rugby Championship in Munich, Germany that day? The Germany vs. Russia match. I remember before the game, due to a mistake by the organizers, the Soviet national anthem was played instead of the Russian one. As a result, the Russian team’s morale soared, and the whole team seemed to be injected with boundless energy, launching wave after wave of attacks, unstoppable. In the end, they completely defeated the German team with a huge score of 57-3. We were even drinking beer together in the stands that day, arguing about which side would win—you must remember all of that, right?”

Upon hearing Braun's words, Baharov's tense expression quickly relaxed, and a look of relief and joy at their long-awaited reunion appeared on his face. He opened his arms and stepped forward without hesitation, giving Braun a firm and warm hug, his voice filled with barely suppressed excitement as he said, "Brown, my dear old friend, I never thought I'd see you again. How have you been these past few months? We've been through so much together; this moment is truly precious."

Braun secretly breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that the atmosphere of their reunion was harmonious, but he was still somewhat puzzled. He released the other man, took a small step back, and looked at Bakharov sincerely, asking, "Bakharov, you clearly recognized me the moment I walked in, so why did you ask that question? I'm a little confused about it."

At this moment, Sokov, who was sitting to the side, slowly stood up and explained to him, “This was all my arrangement. In the current situation, we must act cautiously, and verifying the true identity of everyone is of utmost importance to us. Even the slightest oversight could have unpredictable consequences, and I hope you can understand.”

“I see, I was overthinking it.” Braun nodded, his expression gradually relaxing. He then looked at the open door, turned to Sokov with some concern, and tentatively asked, “Lieutenant Colonel, since what we are about to discuss involves classified information, should we close the door first? That might be safer.”

Sokov shook his head slightly, replying calmly yet firmly, "Braun, there are no outsiders here. You can call me by my nickname—Misha—just like Bakharov does. Besides, it's precisely because we're discussing confidential matters that we can't close the door. Leaving the door open will seem more natural and won't arouse unnecessary suspicion. If someone does try to eavesdrop, we won't be able to detect it if the door is closed."

“Misha!” Braun asked cautiously, “I remember you said there were four of us who crossed over. Where is the last person? When will they be able to join us?”

“This is exactly the problem that’s giving me a headache,” Sokov said with a wry smile. “The remaining one is my friend, a police officer, who has no chance to come to the front lines, so it’s still unknown when the four of us will be able to get together.”

(End of this chapter)