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. . One of the men made his way silently, while the other, without dropping his guard for so much as a second, muttered to himself: . Chopin rubbed his temples with his hands and stood there briefly. . "They're alive and still breathing! Look - here's shrapnel from the mine!" . It won't hurt - just hang on, Little One!" . . The other picked up the girl.

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8 OMON - elite special purpose forces within the Russian police .

" . Just mark them with flags so we don't trip them on the way out. " . The obstacle consisted of lengths of telephone cable and sections of critically scarce barbed wire, and it bore fresh warning signs in Russian and Chechen that fluttered

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in the wind.

"Why the hell did she crawl out there? Look, one "Mines!" warning

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sign is posted there, and out further is another. . .

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then Mikhalych, our chief doctor, got rid of him, saying: `I can find other physicians, but they should be human beings too. Chopin suddenly grew angry.

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. . " With that, she firmly shoved her barrow forward and tilted it on its side to quickly dump the load. x x x . . . They hauled her off in broad daylight, raped and shot her! But the

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entire street teamed up to save the girl and the old woman, hiding them. It took the men about ten minutes

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to reach the old woman and the girl. Have you come for something?" She made an attempt to smile and wiped away what remained of her tears with the palm of her hand. Something for temporary gratification.

. A Ural truck and the escorts' BTR were waiting for them on the road, across from the site of the incident. A strange dark object bounced up from the grass, struck the side of the wheelbarrow, careened away, and exploded in a cloud of black, fiery smoke. . In his long years as a physician, Doc had seen a great deal of blood - particularly in the last few months. . There aren't that many real men around, either. .

It took the men about ten minutes to reach the old woman and the girl. A strange dark object bounced up from the grass, struck the side of the wheelbarrow, careened away, and exploded in a cloud of

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black, fiery smoke. And a few in the legs too. . But after an instant of hesitation, Chopin issued a staccato order: . But on that day, he just felt agitated and knew that he was not alone. 9 Dzhokhar Dudayev, the leader of the Chechen separatists until his death in 1996 . Sanya lugged the old woman. One of them quickly administered promedol to the old woman and applied tourniquets to her shins. " She kissed him tenderly, as if he were a close relative whom she had known for a thousand years.

"The mine may have stuck rather than bouncing up the way it should . . "Hey! And just where do you thing you're going? Go back!" . Chopin nodded silently. . 8 OMON - elite special purpose forces within the Russian police .

They'll beat a path to your door with fire and signal flares - even in the daytime!" . "Screw you!" grumbled the old woman. It took the men about ten minutes to reach the old woman and the girl. It took the men about ten minutes to reach the old woman and the girl. The obstacle consisted of lengths of telephone cable and sections of critically scarce barbed wire, and it bore fresh warning signs in Russian and Chechen that fluttered in the wind.

Once inside, he covered the seat with field jackets, placed the little girl on them, and dropped to his knees, intently observing his young patient and keeping his fingers on the pulse of her small, thin hand. . . . .

. The commander's long, sensitive fingers, which he held on the forward stock of his automatic rifle as if it were the neck of a guitar, left no doubt about the source of his personal callsign, which had long since become his second name. Or the wheelbarrow may have shielded them -

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see, it looks like a sieve. 7 BTR-80 - an armored personnel carrier . . He fixed his eyes on something distant above the heads of his men, but without really seeing it. And don't be such a bonehead!" . His partner froze, hugging the ground. .

"We need to get to the hospital, and fast! The little girl's trachea has been nicked. He fixed his eyes on something distant above the heads of his men, but without really seeing it. Just rush her to the doctor, he'll sort things out!" . "Oh, damn, was that ever a direct hit!" he drawled out with a mixture of reproach and sympathy. He hoisted her onto his back, carefully watching beneath his

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consolidation debt ia in feet and silently listening to her wail as he went. The driver, who had been squatting by one of the wheels, darted headlong into the cab of the idling Ural while two OMON troopers, having thrown open the vehicle's rear gate earlier, jumped aboard and prepared to receive the old woman. . "The women say her father was killed while fighting in the anti-Dudayev opposition. . Just rush her to the doctor, he'll sort things out!" . The old woman, dressed in typically dark village clothing, pushed a wheelbarrow filled with rubble.

. The vibration is less. "Don't mess with the rest of them, there's no time to screw around. Chopin was sitting on the porch of a two-story field hospital.

" . But they poured forth regardless, and she abruptly rose and

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ran back inside. A strange dark object bounced up from the grass, struck the side of the wheelbarrow, careened away, and exploded in a cloud of black, fiery smoke. . Chopin rubbed his temples with his hands and stood there briefly. "Screw you!" grumbled the old woman.

" But meeting Chopin's cold, restrained stare, he quickly pretended to be preoccupied and headed for the exit. x x x . " With that, she firmly

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shoved her

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barrow forward and tilted it on its side to quickly dump the load. He fixed his eyes on something distant above the heads of his men, but without really seeing it. "Ask them where the little girl's parents are. They'll

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beat a path to your door with fire and signal flares - even in the daytime!" . Confused, Chopin turned to the young medic smoking beside him, who

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had heard the conversation: "What's wrong with her? Is she new? Hasn't she gotten used to things yet?" .

"It's just that I'll never get used to the fact that I'm not really a woman anymore. The weak-sighted old woman bent over sideways, trying to make out what her granddaughter had seen, and at just that moment heard someone shouting from the guard posts outside the commandant's office,

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nearly unseen behind mounds of trash.

"The mine may have stuck rather than bouncing up the way it should . . She was astonishingly attractive but had a tired, sullen face. Put the old woman on top of the BTR. . " . Look, the old woman is still moving, sort-of. . "Ask them where the little girl's parents are. Take care of yourself. She was

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astonishingly attractive but had a tired, sullen face.

. The commander's long, sensitive fingers, which he held on the forward stock of his automatic rifle as if it were the neck of a guitar, left no doubt about the source of his personal callsign, which had long since become his second name. . . He fixed his eyes on something distant above the heads of his men, but without really seeing it. .

. It's not too serious, but there may be pulmonary bleeding," Aibolit told

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the commander, as he finished bandaging the girl. She was no longer crying but quivered spasmodically from repressed sobs. The latter started off almost on hands and knees, intently peering into the grass and probing suspicious sectors with rods.

"Shit, those combat engineers are walking one very fine line! After all, who hasn't planted mines out there

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- the Chechens, our guys - yet there are no sketches or maps! The Devil himself couldn't figure things out!" . He spoke briefly with those in charge of the work details, then got onto the running board of the Ural and glanced around. . . "The women say her father was killed while fighting in the anti-Dudayev opposition. "Hey! And just

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do you thing you're going? Go back!" .

He knew that in their hurry, he and Sanya could easily have "overlooked" more than one hideous surprise. "Ask them where the little girl's parents are. And tell them to find 'em quickly," Chopin barked over his shoulder while assisting the doctor.

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Around two hundred meters from the commandant's office an old woman and a small girl walked through a wasteland scarred with ditches and littered with smashed bricks. "That's good - a little girl shouldn't have scars, especially on her chest. " .

Vovka dashed through the corridor hastily cut across the minefield, zigzagging gracefully between

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the marker flags like a downhill skier. " . The old woman, flattened by the devastating blow to her legs, emitted a piercing scream

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and crawled toward her granddaughter, leaving a bloody trail in her wake.

. Dudayev's security forces killed her mother too. She could hardly pass by a single flower that caught her fancy without stooping over to pick it. It's not too serious, but there may be pulmonary bleeding," Aibolit

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told the commander, as he finished bandaging the girl. .

"You take care

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of yourself too, my friend. Put the old woman on top of the BTR.

"They're alive and still breathing! Look - here's shrapnel from the mine!" . Confused, Chopin turned to the young medic smoking beside him, who had heard the conversation: "What's wrong with her? Is she new? Hasn't she gotten used to things yet?" . While Doc attended to her, Sanya arrived carrying the old woman. "The mine may have stuck rather than bouncing up the way it should . Around two hundred meters from the commandant's office an old woman and a small girl walked through a wasteland scarred with ditches and littered with smashed bricks.

Chopin was sitting on the porch of a two-story field hospital. One of the men made his way silently, while the other, without dropping his guard for so much as a second, muttered to himself: . She was astonishingly attractive but had a tired, sullen face. "Oh, look, Grandma, a string!" . . At a distance of about a hundred meters from the wounded, some of the troops dispersed to either side. . .

.

Vovka dashed through the corridor hastily cut across the minefield, zigzagging

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gracefully between the marker flags like a downhill skier. just a sort-of gutted flounder. "Ask them where the little girl's parents are. " . . His fingers trembled as he attempted to light a cigarette. . " . Chopin clutched

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her

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to his breast and stroked her hair, saying, "I'm sorry, but I didn't know. One of them quickly administered

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promedol to the old woman and applied tourniquets to her shins.

"You take care of yourself too, my friend. Sanya lugged the old woman.

Or the wheelbarrow may have shielded them - see, it looks like a sieve. But Vovka, nicknamed "Daddy-Well-Done", was running his own race, knowing that his five-year-old

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sweetheart Natashka and one-week-old twins - who had not yet even seen their father - were waiting for him

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at home, far away.
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