Struggle. Taste of power

Mercenary

On his return to the Kiwi camp in Gorlovka, Cobra had only one goal: to understand, at least by hints, who could have carried out such a daring attack on his group, while being fully confident in his invulnerability. They had succeeded, apparently as planned, but what was surprising was the unwavering determination with which it had all been done. 32 two corpses had cost him in this attack. He had three regiments of nearly five thousand men under his command, and such a loss was not a big deal, but the emphasis was apparently not on that. Someone wanted to hit his reputation. A commander's reputation for letting his men walk away with their heads.

Yes, with heads. Because all the dead were beheaded, apparently with an axe, and taken away with them. They were found in a ravine near the river half a kilometer from the industrial pipe. They were piled on top of each other, and a small pole with a snake nailed to it had been dug into the middle. It wriggled from side to side, unable to do anything… Someone was demonstrating to Cobra the fact of settling personal scores.

And they were clearly not poppies. He remembered again what Gora had said about the 80millimeter mortars that had fired on them. And if Gora, who wasn't at all military savvy, had guessed such an obvious thing, what had the attackers been counting on when they used them? It would be obvious proof that the Maquis were not behind the attack, unable to transport such weapons over such distances. They must have realized that Cobra would recognize their own, the Kiwis. And would look among them. So what's their plan?

Maybe Tikhomirov could give us a clue? Gora asked him to take his man with him, so that he could better understand the structure of the Khivi and, perhaps, learn some of their methods. The guy looked very smart.

— You'd better think of a nickname similar to ours. Nobody's gonna call you Vanya. — the mercenary told him right away.

— Then they can call me Tarantula. They won't make a mistake. — Tikhomirov answered at once.

The prefect warned that his man thought and acted quickly. Quick to understand, quick to make decisions. And that in return for their gratitude, the miners would show Cobra's man the details and intricacies of the underground transportation routes, including track sheets, to make it easier for him to plan his movements from one sector to another.

Cobra's main base with its central headquarters was located on the western outskirts of Gorlovka. It was a former shopping center, where inside the building along the central aisle there was a view all the way to the ceiling of the fourth floor. Right in the center of this aisle stood a BRT-80 with a cannon pointed at the entrance. The lighting from the diesel generators was sparse, but sufficiently supplied and allowed even the far wall of the building to be seen. Life inside was quite lively and resembled more like one of the mines, only with a clearly more active population and more armed — almost everyone was only in military uniform with the exception of some engineers and repairmen dressed in gray overalls.

The former pavilions were equipped with various kinds of barracks, warehouses, storage rooms for weapons and special means, and offices, but all without any signs or placards. Sandbags and small concrete blocks had been set up as firing points everywhere. Cobra's office was exactly in the middle of the building on the second floor, which had apparently once housed a clothing boutique. Across the passageway from it stood a powerful Utyos large caliber machine gun, staring menacingly at the entrance. In case of emergency, it would keep the entire central passage under continuous fire, and it could only be reached from the outside by destroying the entire building with large-caliber artillery, for which the Maquis would not have the means.

The commander's office itself was divided into several separate rooms, the central of which, the private room, was furnished with a long table with the chief's seat at the head of it. A row of chairs stood on either side of it. In the near corner sat a pretty assistant at her small desk with a typewriter placed on it. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling in the center of the room, illuminating everything around.

Cobra sat down in his chair and pointed to the seat next to Tikhomirov:

— Straight to the point, before I forget, maybe. Any questions about anything around here?

— In this room, I understand they used to sell clothes?

— Right. Clothes. Underwear, to be exact.

— Why was it chosen? Best sheltered from outside influences? And allows you to see everything from here? Or is there some other reason?

— Yeah, you said it right. Those two reasons and there's a third one I'm not gonna tell you. Any other questions?

— How long have you been here?

— I'm the one who's been here six years. Before me, they were here for a long time. But it wasn't a base like this. Before me, it was quite modest.

— Do the Maquis know about this place?

— I don't think so. Despite the scale and how long we've been here, the Maquis are unlikely to know anything. You know, they've been emphasizing the war on the plagues. And they don't tell their own people that there are any chiwis at all. — Cobra smiled as he had when he first came to visit the Mountain. — Do you have any idea why they hide from their own people that we exist?

— I think the answer is simple enough. — answered Tarantula and after a little look at the situation around him, he finished. — So that they don't defect…..

Cobra literally froze. Indeed, what a strikingly obvious and understandable answer to such a complex question. After all, many people who could not tolerate the humiliation and deprivation at the enterprises controlled by the plagues fled to the Maquis. And these people were not so much afraid of change and the unknown as they were of the plagues themselves. As opposed to those who stayed at the mine, who were more afraid of the unknown… I can see now why Gora was so eager to send this man here….

— Uh-huh. That's an interesting idea you brought up… So, put flyers out there and half of the Maquis could be seen on your team?

— I wouldn't idealize it so much… After the flyers, we'll see half the Maquis dead in the ravines. Especially considering their current leader.

Tikhomirov spoke in a very restrained, precise and measured manner. It was obvious that he was able to analyze situations from different angles and think in depth, taking into account a number of different factors at once. At the same time with an understanding of people's psychology… A very rare combination of the ability to calculate well in terms of all possible options and the ability to understand human nature and psychology. It's strange how the Mountain let him go unguarded. Maybe he thought that the guards would only draw attention to him?

— Zubkov… I suppose you've long been aware that this rat is in charge now. — Cobra got up from his seat, walked to the far corner, poured brownish liquid into two aluminum mugs, came back and sat back down, putting the second mug to Tikhomirov. — Well, dear Tarantula. Here's our tea for you… And as a kind of gratitude for such an interesting idea that you just threw me about the leaflets, here's some more news about this Zubkov… I didn't call him a rat for nothing.

Tarantula gently touched the mug to see if it was too hot, then picked it up carefully and sipped a little. He was in no hurry to ask or hint that he was waiting for an answer. He knew that the best way in such cases was to just wait, without giving any appearance. Cobra was very impressed by this. He'd rarely seen restraint among his own, and that was mostly among older leaders like Raven.

— Now, about Zubkov. — continued Cobra. — He's a rat because he pawned his own. And not to someone, but to us. As, for example, in Kremenchug… We did not immediately, of course, realized who there so happily knocking for free. But when we took a closer look at the selectivity of these "tapping", we saw an obvious trend. The informer was hitting on Khmelnitsky's close people. Not on the most important points or nodes of the Maquis, not on the concentration of their troops, not on the supply routes. Which would have been most painful to their movement. But at their leader's friends. By those who were especially dear to him, or had once been his shoulder to lean on.

It is this selectivity that leads us to conclude that someone is simply clearing a path to the throne. And the most suitable candidate was, of course, his deputy. Who else would want to be in charge of the entire Unit 14? When you're near the throne, you drool faster than anyone else. And that's why, when we received information about Kremenchug, we were almost sure that Zubkov was behind it… And we were only in favor of his ousting Khmelnitsky. He fought thoroughly, strategically. Five more years would have passed, and we would not have recognized the new Maquis, which would have grown out of the old ones. It would have been a cohesive organized army with unified command and planning. And, you know, we've already started working out options on how to counter that — maybe recruiting people from the mines and factories. Maybe something else. We didn't really have any meaningful plan… But you see, we got such a gift… So when we got the information about the details of the cover at Kremenchug, we gathered everyone we had, exposed all the flanks and roads, and sent them there. Even our exotic T-95 tanks were not spared. We did everything to make Zubkov's plan succeed… And as you can see, we did not fail.

Tarantula had almost finished his tea, leaving only a little on the bottom so the mug wouldn't be empty:

— So, now the poppies won't bother you so much anymore….

— That's the way it is, my fellow Tarantula.

— Which means one of your own will decide to start sharing resources within the chiwi….

Cobra was stunned. He had pondered all these things hundreds and thousands of times, and this conclusion had not occurred to him, although now it was absolutely obvious. Indeed, resistance from the Maquis should no longer be expected to be so determined, let alone possible retaliatory actions and guerrilla warfare. They would sit peacefully enough, occasionally disturbing the chumas in far from the most important parts of the empire. The support of the Hiwi will be needed mainly to guard routes and extraction points, not for retaliatory punitive operations. And that means it's time to divide the spheres of influence within the Hiwi.

And that's where the recent situation near the Diza sector, where a Bravo group was interrupted and mortars were fired at a crew repairing the railroad tracks. This explains the fact that the Bravo let them get close, although it did not explain why they did not report when doing so. Whether their own were there approaching or strangers, and it had to be reported either way. And yet it was not followed.

So who would do something like this? The Berkut? Who once had an agreement, but that was then, not now, when times are different? Or the Viper? She was always complicated, and there was hardly any balance, as she simply changed enemies from one to the other. It's a wonder even how she hasn't been openly killed by one of her own so far. Or who else? Coyote? Yeah, could have been. Greedy as hell. He's never had enough of what he's got. No matter how much he gets, he's always complaining that it's not enough. Maybe he just lost control of his thirst.

In general, any one of them couldn't pose any problem. But if it was just one. And in such a position, they could very well agree with each other. Korba didn't have the most numerous subordinate units, but some of the most significant resources: two fundamental bases, a repair plant capable of servicing even heavy equipment, several important high points controlling the surrounding area in the "Donetsk-Makeyevka" and "Dnepropetrovsk-Kremenchug" groupings. And now also underground transportation routes in one of these groups. Perhaps anyone and anyone in any group could have laid their hands on such a thing.

Still, we should start with Berkut. He's the first choice for the role. And he certainly wouldn't turn it down if he got an offer from someone else. Start with Berkut, and talk to Raven first. After all, there is no one among the Kiwis in this part of Ukraine more important than him. And even from his silence we can learn something.

***

Raven's base was no larger than Cobra's or any of the warlords'. On the contrary, it was characterized by a certain modesty. Everyone usually chose former shopping or business centers, sometimes buildings of city administration or large corporations. And Raven was sitting in a building from the complex of former winery facilities. And they said that this building had been used for some other purpose before the Great War. A four-story white building, somewhat buried among the others, with a separate approach to the entrance. Apparently, Raven liked that his neighborhood could be well controlled, and if necessary, withdrawal could be made in almost any direction.

— You want a joint operation with Berkut? Why him? — Raven asked. His beard was beginning to gray, and as time went on, he began to seem like a kindly grandfather who would always be supportive and helpful. In reality, he remained more of a planner than a caretaker. Probably that's why his gaze became more and more distant — it was filled with more and more future and less and less present.

— His group knows the terrain better than anyone. You could learn from their experience. — Cobra decided to be a model commander, playing for the whole team, sometimes even to his own detriment.

— All this while you two aren't exactly on good terms with each other? I don't think that's a good idea.

— We can ask what Berkut himself thinks about it…..

Raven thought for a moment. He flicked his eyes around a bit. It was an almost imperceptible change in demeanor, but Cobra had known for a long time that it meant Raven's unwillingness to agree or do anything.

— Berkut is not in Horlivka now… It is conducting an operation against the Maquis near Severodonetsk," Voron replied.