Текст книги "I am your woman!"

Chapter 11

Larisa Ivanovna Garova pushed the doorbell button on the gate in a high thick fence. A short-haired boxer called Vandamme began to bark, then Valeria’s mother shouted:

– Shum! Sit! Shum I said! Shut up! Blasted Vandamme!

Step by step the barking ceased. It was obvious, the hostess managed to drive her big dog into its huge kennel. Now Larisa Ivanovna could hear her approaching steps.

Having opened the gate Larisa Ivanovna’s new relative couldn’t help yawning, disappointed.

– Ah, it’s you! Anything happened?

– No, just to visit Valeria, – her tone sounded sorry.

Without any further words, the hostess of a two-storey mansion nodded and let her in. Valeria’s mother shut the gate, lloking all the time over Larisa Ivanovna or through her as if she was made of glass.

Valeria came onto the balcony:

– Mum, who’s there?

– To you. Can’t lift your ass and see yourself! I have to open the door all the time, with my high pressure! – The tall big woman with white dyed hair told off her daughter entering the house. – Don’t forget to feed your Schwarznegger or Vandamme, what’s his bloody name! He’s ready to tear me to pieces! Hardly shut up!

A big Persian cat appeared in the parlour. Valeria’s mother took it on her hands:

– A good cat! – she said lackadaisically and went to the drawing-room.

Larisa Ivanovna followed her. Then she stopped at the spiral stairs and thought whether to ascend or Valeria would descend to her. As if reading her thoughts like a book Valeria leaned over the rail:

– Go up, Larisa Ivanovna!

Breathing heavily Larisa Ivanovna fell down on an armchair. Valeria’s thin lips stretched in a smile. Then she sat beside her:

– Any problems?

– Good god, no! It’s alright! Sasha’s friend brought me a letter from him and some money.

– What money?

– He’s got his first wages. Wrote to me to hand it to you. You can put it on the savings bank account if you please. Or buy something.

Larisa Ivanovna was about to tell Valeria about Sasha’s letter, but was struck by her daughter-in-law’s categoric tone:

– I don’t need any money! I don’t need anything!

Larisa Ivanovna was perplexed. She didn’t realize what was wrong. Some supernatural forces made her raise from the armchair. Stunned, she could hardly murmur:

– Well, I’d better go. Bye.

Well, she won’t tell her anything at all! Not in a mood!

It didn’t occur to Valeria why Larisa Ivanovna had got upset:

– Where are you going? Larisa Ivanovna?

«Valeria doesn’t call me Mother».

– Your cat’s made a piss on the carpet! – heading for the stairs, Larisa Ivanovna uttered quietly. She didn’t Valeria anymore. She ignored her questions.

– Ah, no matter! Let’s have tea! But where are you?

– No thanks. Never mind.

Larisa Ivanovna nearly rushed from the gate. Never! Never she will cross the threshold of this wicked house again! Never.

Chapter 12

– Garov! Don’t try! You’ll never get through! It’s useless! They don’t connect even with Rostov. I can’t send a pack to Mozdok for two days! And you’re calling your wife! – the working-department chief rapped out his words.

– Mikhail Andreevich! Let me try! It’s very urgent! My folks at home are shocked by the news from Chechnya on TV. I’m sure they are worried about me.

– Worried you say?! OK. Permission granted. But just for your sake! Don’t jabber it to anyone if you get through. All want to phone you know.

The stout lieutenant colonel left the room. But not because he was polite. He was to be at a festive table. If the calendar wasn’t mistaken it was the 7th of November*.

– Hullo, Dad, is it you? It’s Sasha. Is Lera in?

His father’s morose remark «Just a moment» hurt Sasha’s soul. Just this phrase, nor «Hello!», nor «How are you?»!

– Oh, Sashka! – the receiver asked merrily.

– Hi, Lera!.. No time… Can cut off any minute!.. I’m alright!.. Don’t watch TV. Here no one speaks to journalists and they invent horrors just to say something.

– Well, I don’t watch TV at all…

– Really?! And What d’you do? – Garov asked.

– Yesterday came back from Sochi with old folks. Maman sunburnt badly – now is suffering from overpressure. Papa’s standing for elections. Going to be a deputy. Can you imagine?

– Bunny! Sorry I can’t speak long.

– Hmm. When are you back?

– In two months I hope! Visit my Mum, tell her I called. Or live with her for some time, will you?

– No, it’s a bit improper. – Lera drawled.

Angry Garov nearly hung up. Improper! Improper for his wife to live with his mother! Just for moral support and help about the house.

– Valeria, time’s up! – Garov said, tired.

– Well, bye! – Lera hung up.

Ensign Merdyev entered the room stealthily and slapped Garov on his shoulder:

– Don’t hold the line! Maybe, someone’s calling here! What’s at home? You’re lucky if you got through!

Garov hung up, clutched a bunch of keys nervously from the table:

– That’s the end! Yes, that’s the end! – and went out quickly.

Almost all gathered at the table. The women put on their best dresses, the men – their medals and orders. Garov who of course came late was offered a place near Ensign Lyuba Antonova. She began to patronize Garov at table. But he wanted neither spirits nor salads Lyuba offered him and answered «Yes» or «No» to all her questions.

And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand why Lyuba was so tender with Garov. Vadim Smirnov with his wife Svetlana was right to her. Lyuba was full of jealosy. So she was going to tempt Garov and thus revenge Smirnov.

Lyuba invited Garov to a slow dance and became too sentimental listening to Talkov’s song. She pressed herself to Garov passionately during the refrain phrase «You’ll come to me But it’ll be too late».

At first Garov didn’t react at all. But step by step he began to feel extremely strong gravity to the knolls of her nipples (and without bra!) So he pushed her a bit aside.

After the last accord of «Summer Rain» Garov rushed to the street.

– Where are you going, Sasha? – Lyuba said with caress.

– I need some fresh air. It’s a bit stuffy here.

– May I go too?

– Well, why not.

So Antonova nearly achieved her goal. The culmination of that sudden gravity between two bodies was forthcoming… Many girls had dreamed to draw Garov to bed. But they had failed. But not she! Antonova anticipating her triumph pretended to be drunk. She clutched his hand. But suddenly she felt that her other hand was grabbed by… whom do you think?.. by Smirnov!

Smirnov was burnt with curiosity. He followed them in the darkness leaving his talkative Svetlana with Nikishov’s wife.

– Well, well, well! Where going to, you little doves?!

Antonova kept her head:

– I’m free and I can walk with whom I want? Go, Comrade Major, to your dear wife!

Smirnov told Garov in a whisper:

– Look here, leave us, OK. We’ll have a chat!

Garov didn’t rejoin the celebrating company and went to bed. But he couldn’t sleep. Went out again. Antonova’s and Smirnov’s voices came from the bathhouse. The stars were shimmering. Then the voices died away. Very soon the Major appeared pulling in his belt and shouted in the dark doorway of the bathhouse: «If I see you with someone else – I’ll punish you!». Not seeing Garov Smirnov passed by him and muttered to himself: «Hm… Garov she wanted! Fig to her!»

Silence covered all around. And only the rockets of fireworks flying up to the sky sometimes broke it.

Alex sat on the steps of the commandant’s office and Djohar the dog came up to him. He touched Sasha’s chest with his moist nose. The young man hugged him as if the dog could realize his misery.

Chapter 13

Dasha Sviridenko went onto the balcony. Somewhere at the distance the darkness was torn by the salute and in her thoughts there was a strange inexplicable connection between the darkness of the night and what was on behind her back – a feast in a new flat gifted to them, a young married couple, by her in-laws.

The house-warming dated for the 7th of November was at its height. One toast after another, plenty of vodka, broken glasses…

– But where is Dasha? Did you hear her singing? She’s the greatest singer! – her father-in-law boasted to the guests.

– Yes?! – a drunken man’s voice answered. – And what’s she singing? Let her sing of a nightingale!

– What a hell of a nightingale? – a rude stout woman in her fifties with a red drunken face. Can she sing «Am I guilty or not?»?! – and at once sang that song loudly.

Then the boozy company caught up the words «That I love!..»

Dasha squatted down, closed her ears with her hands and… words themselves began to form a sort of ornament of verses:

Among noisy and shameless struggle

For the small sweet of toyish power

Son is growing. And for happiness

I’m begging the fate. —

Not for me, but for him only.

– Dasha, what on earth are you doing here? – her husband rushed to the balcony.

– Me? Just make poems.

– What?! Let’s go inside! You’ll freeze here! Why did you leave us?

– Wait a minute. Let’s stay here for a while. Look – here’s the Milky Way! I wonder if there’s anyone alive among the stars? Like a human being?

– Dasha, don’t be angry with me but I can’t lisp. Well, the Milky way, I see it. But what of it? It’s all the same to me. No matter if there’s anyone or not. I’m more anxious about my future place of service. By the way, your aunt Galya promised to talk to her son, a colonel, about it. And what?!

– Darling, you have a year before you to find it!

– You think it’s a lot of time? No, it isn’t. Time flies you know! And what’s then?! To go to Grozny, to war? To death? Or you want your son to lose his father?! Maybe, you don’t love me at all?! Maybe, you’re fed up with my parents?! Why deuce are you here now?! Sent our Max to your bloody Mummy beforehand! Or my mother can’t do with children?!

– Oh, Sasha! He’s only two months old. Too little! Why on earth fetch him to this booze!

– Don’t speak any more! If you want to stay at the damned balcony – OK!

The pane in the balcony door clinked – Alex Sviridenko shut it violently behind him.

– Oh, my Lord! I’ll stand it! Stand it! Stand t! I’m strong! Strong! All will be alright! Alright! Alright! Alright! – Dasha repeated to herself clinching her fists. – Please, God! Let everyone be happy! – But her tears dropped.

The pretty young girl gazed at the stars and begged the Almighty for happiness. For her, for her son, for her mother, for all people in the world.

Chapter 14

The year of 1996 began. Malcovich was brooding. Brooding seriously.

His problem №1 was to conceal the income of the firm registered in Moscow as «Malcovich & Co»

Problem №2 – to release from the Orekhovo mob that all of a sudden offered him to be a protection of his firm.

Problem №3 was as follows. His two ex – business partners were blackmailing him demanding to give a Moscow flat to each.

Problem №4 was that Zhanna with whom he’d had a love affair for a year got pregnant.

He had a headache. He had to do something. But what?

Malcovich picked up the phone and dialed the number. Zhanna answered. Andrei didn’t start the conversation first. He was listening to her pleasant voice. Soft, cat-like, with aspiration. He really loved her.

– Why are you silent?.. Hullo!

Malcovich imagined her crafty pink plump lips, kissing him all over tenderly and skillfully. Imagined her naked, pressing herself to him, with her delicate white skin. How she was embracing him in the mist! Mist… It was wrapping Malcovich around more and more… It was she he had seen in his dream before! A sudden horror pierced him: «No, It wasn’t Zhanna! It was Mata Khari who fell off the rock! But not Zhanna».

Malcovich summoned up his courage. But his heart was aching.

– Hullo! Zhanna, it’s me… – but his voice sounded tired, heavy and dull.

– I knew it was you. I was just afraid to ask. It could have been my husband as well.

– He is not at home, is he?

– He left… for Hannover… Yesterday…

– How are you?

– Fine.

– Really?

– Yes, thanks.

– What did you decide? – Andrei asked cautiously.

– Andryusha, please don’t be angry with me. Today I went to the doctor…

– And?

– No child anymore.

– No child? – Andrei repeated in a low voice.

– I knew you’d be upset… Where are you now? In Moscow?

– Yes… Why did you make an abortion?

– Andryushechka! Don’t torture me! Don’t tell me – it hurts! You don’t need me – a married old thing with two children!

– But you are not old!

– I’m older than you… Ten years older. We can’t forget it.

– I love you!

He heard her crying.

– Please, don’t cry! I’ll come to you.

– When?

– Right now!

– You bought a plane, didn’t you?

– You still have a sense of humor. That’s good! I’m leaving now. So long.

– So long.

Malcovich went out of his study. The office in Arbat street he had on lease consisted of two rooms. Next door they were still working though it was late.

– Andrei, where are you going? – he was asked.

– To St.Petersburg.

– When back?

– The day after tomorrow.

– What to do with the Orekhovo mob?

– Tell’em you can’t connect with me. I’ll be back on Monday and we’ll think it over.

Chapter 15

Dasha’s only happiness was her little son. He was growing up and now he could speak. The little boy amused his mum: once he dropped a New Year tree right on himself or, when scared, began to say «ba-ba» instead of «ma-ma».

Cadet Sviridenko finished the military school successfully and now he was looking for the best place of service somewhere near Rostov, his native city. After summer holidays he returned to his duties. Two weeks later Dasha received a letter from him:

«Well, my darling, my beloved wife! This letter will be perhaps my last. I took a directive to Grozny. Though I didn’t want it of course. There were no other variants. Your aunt Galya’s son never helped me. He said I was to give a bribe. But don’t be upset. If I’m killed you and Max will get a compensation. If I survive I’ll be able to earn a lot. Hope for the best! Love, Kiss, Farewell!

Your Sanyok»

Alexander Sviridenko appeared in the commandant’s office of the Northern airport in Grozny when the militants passed to the offensive. At the beginning of August the pack was returning from Khankala to the airport along a street in Mozdok. Sviridenko and Garov were moving on top of the first armoured vehicle not trying to hide. And they didn’t hear a shot and a sound of a flying bullet because of the roar of the vehicles. Sviridenko had just turned his head to Garov and begun to cry something. But Garov didn’t hear him and leaned a bit forward. At that moment Sviridenko expanded his hand and put a khaki head bandage off Garov’s head. A small smoking hole was at the very edge of it. Garov was looking at it and he was gripped with wrath like with a great ocean wave in storm.

Sviridenko reacted quicker: he got up and shot into the air. Then the both jumped into the hatch and shut the cover.

Nobody shot after that. So far nobody.

Tank caterpillars were splashing the sand under them – the sand that couldn’t be mixed with any other sand – dusty, burnt all over, the sand of Chechnya!

Five minutes passed. There was nobody around. All the native people that one could often meet here before – dirty and tattered boys, saleswomen in dark garment – they all vanished.

No word from any of the five tanks. All prepared for the attack. A kilometer was left before a driving-school where the federal forces were located. All in the pack longed to get there.

A Chechen old man went out of City Hospital №9 and began waving his hands intensively, giving signs to those in the pack. Maybe, he called them to approach him. No sooner had Garov asked Sviridenko what to do when the firing began. The old man was wounded at his hand and hid himself inside the hospital.

It seemed the bullets were flying in all the directions. So they had to shoot around in response. But then they noticed there was no shooting from the hospital. The tanks began rearing to the hospital. One of the tanks exploded. Barely had Smirnov and two soldiers leaped out of it and rushed towards the hospital.

Sviridenko cried to Garov:

– Go away! I’ll cover your retreat!

Garov rushed into the hospital and ran across Smirnov, swearing loudly with some people in white smocks. So Garov realized the hospital authorities refused to give them shelter.

Sviridenko shooting in response moved backwards and his back collided with Garov’s.

So he turned:

– What the hell’s on?! Why deuce all crowding here?! No room?! Or you want us to be killed all?! Ryzhov with some men’s in the tank! Gonna be off!

– No, I said! – one of the medical men said abruptly, stopping the lieutenant’s cries. – We don’t give shelter to anyone! We’re a hospital! And we don’t let anyone hold military operations in our hospital. We have more than 300 patients! We must treat them! And your presence is dangerous for them. Many of them can’t walk! There’re also people to take care of the sick! They are all civilian people! And children! Did you think of them?! Being here you’ll doom them all to death! Get off!

The shooting didn’t cease, then a grenade exploded. The door that was already hanging loosely on the hinges was torn off by a blast wave. A few seconds later Ryzhov, all in blood and soot, hardly squeezed the doorway carrying a soldier on his shoulders. Smirnov burst out crying so wildly that even Garov and Sviridenko exchanged glances: they’d never seen him in such a state before.

– Are you Movsar or Umar – hell of it! But you, bastard, are a doctor anyway! He’s wounded, don’t you see?! And now you’ll order your bloody nurses to give him first aid!

Seeing the doctor refuse Smirnov flinched the lock of his tommy-gun, directed it to the distant wards in the corridor and cried even louder:

– Don’t you see, doc?! I’m mad! I’ll kill every manjack of you! I’ll ganw your throats through for the sake of my guys! Move! Quickly!

The doctor sighed heavily and began speaking Chechen with those near him. Smirnov interrupted him:

– Speak only Russian in my presence! – and like Gleb Zheglov from the Soviet film added: «I said!».

One of the Chechens went deep into the corridor to the stairs leading to the basement.

– Garov, Sviridenko! – the major commanded. – Show this chap…

– Umar, – the doctor prompted, – Umar is a surgeon. Take your wounded man and follow him.

Garov put that heavy guy from Ryzhov’s shoulders on his ones. Sviridenko, holding the tommy-gun in front of him, followed Umar, Garov with the wounded went behind. Descending to the basement they met youngish nurses time and again. The girls swore them with strong obscene words, and Sviridenko shot twice into the air near them. Wailing the girls rushed away.

Chapter 16

After examining the whole hospital and seeing nothing suspicious Smirnov and his chaps sat in the wet basement where the greatest part of the sick was located now because of the bombardment.

The major renewed his attempts to get in touch with the federal forces located in the driving school. Inspite of the interference on the line the talk between the two commanders did take place. Smirnov asked for help, but the federal commander refused and only advised him to stand firm.

The major scrutinized his guys, glanced at the soldier whose wounds were bandaged. Everyone waited what decision Smirnov would make.

– We’ll have to defend ourselves, – Smirnov said, – Garov, post the guys at each floor. No one should leave the building. Observe the street.

By evening all the exits were mined.

Garov came up to one of the rooms on the ground floor, that remained unprotected. Its windows overlooked a yard with the nutrition unit.

An old man with a bandaged hand was standing at the window, with his back to Garov. Alex stepped in and from the window he saw two girls in black at the distance running away half-bent.

Garov snatched a pistol out of his pocket, sprang to the window, intending to shoot and shouted: «Back!»

The old man turned and exclaimed:

– Oh, we’ve met again, lieutenant!

As you can guess it was that old man from the plane on the flight to Grozny. There was no time for thinking.

– We’ll talk later! – Garov directed his gun to the running girls. But the old man clutched his hand. Garov shot and missed.

– Grandpa! What the hell you are doing? Tomorrow they’ll come with militants to kill us! They know we are few! – Garov pushed the old man’s hand violently and aimed at them again.

At that moment one of the Chechen girls turned holding the AKM. The old man staggered and threw himselfon Garov trying to change the direction of a possible shot.

– Lieutenant my boy! It’s Zulya, my granddaughter! Came to take me with her and here… – but he didn’t finish – he was pierced almost through with a burst of fire, still hanging on Garov’s arm.

Garov picked him up and they both fell on the wooden floor.

– Zulya… Don’t shoot… Let her live… She is beauty… – his head began to tremble, his mouth gulping the air greedily.

– Grandpa, – Garov couldn’t help crying, – don’t die! She shot! She killed! Now Garov was crying like a little boy.

The old man sighed, whispered with his dry lips: «Nino…», his head turned aside and got stiff.

After hearing the shots Sviridenko dashed into the room with two soldiers.

– Sanyok?! What’s on? Are you alright?!

Then he hid behind the window and shot into the yard.

– Don’t shoot, – Garov said closing the old man’s eyes. Then he rubbed off his tears at once and stood up.

Sviridenko looked at him surprised:

– Don’t shoot?! Why? Garov! What happened?!

– I’ll just ask you: don’t shoot!

– Garov, are you damn mad? OK! I won’t shoot!

Two hours later when it was pitch dark the doctors came up to Smirnov:

– The Chechens said if you your guys get out tonight they won’t attack us. Please, leave us. Ten patients have died in that dirty and musty basement.

– Why d’you know it?! Who told you that? – Smirnov seized him at the front of his smock. – You sent your people to the militants, didn’t you? Sent or not?! Speak!

But the doctor was silent. A histerical woman’s cry was heard from above. Zulya who came back and informed the doctor about the militants’ ultimatum was about to leave again but ran across her grandfather’s dead body. She was lamenting him long.

Garov didn’t let his friends offend her in some or other way. Garov couldn’t understand why he was acting so. He couldn’t act differently… He was irritated with her cry. He hated her for what she had done. But he recalled the old man’s eyes, his words, and it was stronger than his relations with Smirnov, Sviridenko and others. Although, it seemed, Smirnov sympathized him.

She was set free and Smirnov ordered her to tell the militants they would spend a night in the hospital:

– So tell them, girl, we can also act like Basaev in Budyonnovsk.

At 3 a.m. when all the sick slept, Smirnov informed all his guys:

– We’ll leave the hospital, one pair after another, with the interval of 15 minutes. In Chechen women’s clothes, with kerchiefs on faces, very quietly. I’ll be the last. We’ll go the driving-school. I hope we’ll do it. Don’t shoot, don’t draw attention. In case of fight use bayonets.

…Yes, they’ve done it!