red moscow

Chapter 3132

The two were talking in hushed tones when a rapid knocking broke the silence. Sokov instinctively turned towards the door, his brow furrowed, and muttered softly, "Asia, it sounds like someone's knocking. Did you hear it?"

Upon hearing the knock on the door, Asya shuddered violently as if struck by lightning, her body trembling uncontrollably. The conversation from earlier flashed through her mind—those discussions about Marshal Zhukov. If the NKVD had overheard them, she would have been summoned for questioning, or worse.

After Sokov finished speaking, he noticed that Asya was still sitting in the chair without responding, so he quickly looked away and examined her carefully. He asked with some surprise, "Asya, why are you shivering? Is it too cold in the room? Or are you feeling unwell?" His voice was full of concern, but a hint of doubt flashed in his eyes.

“Misha!” Asya’s voice trembled as she nervously whispered, “I just talked about Marshal Zhukov. Did the NKVD hear me? And that’s why they sent people to arrest me? Oh my God, how could I be so careless!” Her eyes were filled with fear, as if she were about to collapse at any moment.

Upon hearing this, Sokov was initially startled, his pupils contracting slightly, but he quickly took a deep breath and regained his composure. He reached out and gently patted Asya's shoulder, comforting her, "Asia, what are you thinking? Don't scare yourself. Even if the people from the Internal Affairs Department happened to hear what you just said, they couldn't possibly send someone to arrest you this quickly. Only a few minutes have passed since we started talking. No matter how efficient the intelligence department is, they can't move this fast. Right now, the people standing outside the door are most likely doctors or nurses making their routine rounds, or perhaps they're here to deliver medicine. You'd better hurry up and open the door, don't keep them waiting."

After hearing Sokov's words, Asya calmed down a little, but she was still shaken. She slowly stood up, her movements stiff, and walked towards the door, turning back to look at him every step of the way. Each step felt like walking on needles, and her eyes kept glancing at Sokov, seeking a bit of comfort.

Reaching the door, she hesitated for a moment before finally mustering the courage to open it. When she saw who was standing outside, Asya was first stunned, her eyes widening, then her face lit up with surprise and joy, her previous fear instantly vanishing. She turned to Sokov, who was lying on the bed, and called out, "Misha, it's Deputy Commander Lukin who's come to visit you!"

Upon hearing that the person standing outside the door was Lukin, Sokov struggled to sit up. The pain in his chest made him wince, but he forced himself to prop himself up on his elbows. His voice trembled with urgency as he said to Asya, "Asia, quickly invite him in."

Asya nodded quickly and stepped back to make way for the person outside the door. She bowed slightly and said respectfully and gently, "Comrade Deputy Commander, please come in!"

The next moment, Lukin strode in with firm, powerful steps, his military boots making a clear, steady sound on the floor. Two officers in neat uniforms, their expressions solemn, followed closely behind him, as if ready to be deployed at any moment.

Upon entering the ward, Lukin did not immediately approach Sokov. Instead, he turned around, waved to the two officers who had followed him in, and said in a calm but unquestionable tone, "Wait for me outside. I want to have a private chat with General Sokov."

Without any hesitation, the two officers replied in unison, "Yes, Deputy Commander!" They then turned and left the ward, gently closing the door behind them.

Once the officer's footsteps had faded into the distance, Lukin walked to Sokov's bedside. He pulled up a chair and sat down, his serious expression softening into a concerned smile: "Misha, I heard you had finally woken up, so I rushed over immediately." He leaned forward slightly and asked in a low voice, "How are you? Is there anything bothering you?"

Sokov gently pressed his hand to his chest, forcing a smile, and replied, "The wound is still a little sore, but the doctor said it's healing well and should be fully healed soon." His gaze then involuntarily shifted to Lukin's legs, his tone filled with obvious surprise and joy: "Comrade Lukin, I just saw you walk in by yourself—when did you get your prosthetics?" "Two months ago," Lukin chuckled, patting his right leg, which made a soft metallic sound. He explained, "As you know, after losing my legs, I relied on a wheelchair for everything, which was really inconvenient. Later, I heard there was a hospital in the eastern suburbs of Moscow that made particularly excellent prosthetics, so I went there specifically and had these custom-made." He spoke casually, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. "After more than a month of adaptation and training, I can now walk almost as steadily as before."

“That’s good.” Sokov nodded slowly, his gaze falling on the other’s slightly awkward but steady movements, his tone filled with relief: “From now on, you won’t need to be pushed around anymore, you can go by yourself wherever you want to go.”

"Asia!" Lukin turned his head and looked at Asia, who had just entered the room. His voice was steady but tinged with urgency. "Did the doctor say when Misha can be discharged from the hospital?"

“I asked the attending physician,” Asia took a few steps closer, gently folding her hands in front of her, her tone both gentle and clear. “He said that Misha’s injuries have basically healed, and she can be discharged in two or three days to continue recuperating at home.” She paused briefly, her eyes slightly cautious, and continued, “But to move around as freely as a normal person, I’m afraid it will take some more time; she will have to recover slowly.”

“Misha!” Lukin turned his gaze to Sokov again, his voice low but filled with expectation, “You must get better soon. I’m counting on you to come back and help us with the next phase of our work.”

Lukin's words reminded Sokov that the man was now the deputy commander of the Odessa Military District. A thought struck him, and he tentatively asked, "Lukin, what kind of work have you been busy with lately? There must be a lot of work going on at the military district."

"The most important task at present is to resettle the veterans." Lukin raised his hand to rub his temples, his tone clearly weary. "According to the instructions of the Supreme Command, we need to reduce the army by 11 million by the end of November 1946. It will be very difficult to properly resettle so many veterans."

"Approximately how many veterans does the Odessa Military District need to resettle?" Sokov pressed.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand,” Lukin sighed, his voice low, “that’s exactly one-fifth of the number of troops to be cut.”

Sokov wasn't too surprised by this number. After all, the soldiers who joined the army later in the Great Patriotic War were mostly from Ukraine. Now that the war was over and there was a need for large-scale troop reductions, these soldiers who enlisted later naturally became the priority.

"That's quite a few people," Sokov asked cautiously. "I wonder how you plan to accommodate them?"

"In principle, they should go back to where they came from." Lukin was worried that Sokov wouldn't understand what he meant, so he explained, "Those from collective farms should go back to the collective farms; factory workers should go back to the factories. As for those veterans who have made outstanding contributions, they will be reassigned to new jobs based on their actual circumstances."

(End of this chapter)