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Dmitry busily set a huge mine. At least, it should even look like experts. A high-class explosive, he knows how to make her practically invulnerable. Two hours guarantee that they will not be cleared, nor will people be brought out of here due to the threat of an explosion. And during this time, look for the wind in the clear sky ... There is no need to seek refuge with Saddam Hussein or somewhere else in distant overseas countries: no one has yet been found in the mountains of Chechnya!
Ahmed kept glancing at Akbarshah, now at the hostages. Hearing that they were leaving in twenty minutes, the bus was already served, shook his head. In the eyes was a strange expression.
“Hey you,” he said loudly. - No, you! ... Come on, stand up!
A burly young American, tall and blond, slowly rose, his eyes startled, his lips began to wince.
- What would you like? - He said sorry. - The bus has already been filed ... Fulfilled all the conditions! Seven million dollars ...
Ahmed said unkindly:
- You, son of a jackal, stay alive. And even, maybe, it is complete ... What is your name?
- Carpenter, sir.
“So, Carpenter, we are leaving in twenty ... no, in fifteen minutes already." But at parting, I want to see how you have that girl ...
The girl who clung to the guy next, startled, her eyes widened. Carpenter looked helplessly at her fiance, spread his hands. The hostages were silent, averted their eyes.
Akbar shah suddenly shouted:
- Well, say something! ... Say that he is a stupid Arab muzzle! That I am a stupid Arab brute! That you are a great country! ... That you will not kneel before some miserable, stupid Arab!
The American screamed in fright:
- No, no! ... Just do not shoot! ... I will never say that! ... On my knees? Please kneel down ...
He readily thumped on his knees. In despair, Akbarsha looked back at Ahmed, at the Russians. His face was pale as chalk, there were tears in his eyes, his lips were full and puffy. Valentine nodded glumly. He was beginning to guess why the Arab sheikhs sent a noble son to their squad. Why did the wise old men decide to show him the soul of the West at once, entirely.
And Carpenter spoke quietly, glancing at the muscular Arab, whose black, like the wings of the devil, eyebrows met menacingly on the bridge of his nose, and his eyes sparkled like embers:
- Mary ... have patience. It is just a body.
He unzipped his pants, bent the American and set her on all fours. Arab and Russian looked interested, in the eyes was distrust. Either they didn’t believe that the American would decide on such a vileness, or they didn’t think that the infidel would get something at all at gunpoint.
Carpenter closed his eyes, began to breathe slowly, putting his palms on the white elastic buttocks, trying to travel at a time when indiscriminately grabbed and used all the girls in the dormitory, and they also grabbed even unfamiliar guys - just by the tails, it's just sex, you can not get acquainted, you don’t even remember faces and do not peer, only flesh, only hot pressure in the lower abdomen, in the loins ...
The terrorists talked, he heard surprise in an unfamiliar dialect, managed to think what he was doing, and then hot blood began to fill his loins. I'm the hero, wondered, I was not afraid of niggers ... chernozadyh. I have normal instincts, which means that I am not constrained by fear ...
Mary moaned through clenched teeth. He patted his buttock, said quietly:
- Relax.Relax! Do not give these cattle a reason to laugh.
“I can't,” she moaned.
- Relax ... or be patient. Most importantly, we will survive. And then see who laughs last!
- Okay...
Miguel, her fiance, was sitting next to her. At first he tried not to look, after all this bruiser uses his bride, then he thought with sluggish anger: what's the matter? Psychoanalysts are right, this is just a body. Anyway, after this incident, they will fall into the hands of psychiatrists, they will be placed in psycho-rehabilitation centers, where in the wild nature, peace of mind, so necessary for a long and fulfilling life in a prosperous society, will be restored to the murmur of streams.
He saw how Mary’s eyes finally turned in his direction. He advised hoarsely:
- Relax. It is all just a body.
- Miguel, it's hard for me ...
“This is a prejudice,” he explained patiently, anger was rising in his heart that a woman did not understand, created unnecessary difficulties. - I had women before you, you had men before me. Imagine that ...
“Miguel,” she whispered, “but now I am your bride.”
But her voice quivered and stopped in mid-sentence. Carpenter squeezed her buttocks with strong fingers, she didn’t sob, or sigh, finally starting to feel him without disgust, or maybe even as without disgust
- What are they doing? - cried Akbarsh pity. His eyes were on his forehead, he drew back, looked for support at his older comrade, but Ahmed’s face was as immovable as the mountains of Hebron, full of contempt for these creatures who wore the human form.
“Look,” he advised. “You should know what people you fight with.”
Akbarshakh suddenly shouted in a thin ripped voice. The machine gun in his hands twitched, the barrel glittered with fire, as if a Bengal candle had been inserted there. The crash of shots threw the Americans to the floor before they were hit by bullets.
Akbar shah shouted and squatted, drove the barrel, pouring prisoners with steel hail. They shouted, moaned, tried to throw themselves at the walls, hid one after the other, slaughtered under the fallen. Finally, the striker clicked dryly and at the same time the last cry died away, only wheezing was still heard, trickles of blood crawled out from under the still bodies, turned into wide red streams. There was a lot of blood in the overweight fattened Americans; she poured the floor completely, even drowned the fingers of the young American's hands in red.
Ahmed grabbed his shoulder:
- What have you done? ... What have you done!
- How could they? - shouted Akbarshah in fear and despair. His face twisted, twitched, his eyes became desperate. “How could they ...?” These are people? ... People, yes?
Ahmed answered hard:
- Not sure.
Valentin rushed to the crash. Quickly covered everything with a general look, I understood everything, gritted my teeth. Ahmed cried woefully:
- It's my fault! ... Why am I so, brainless ass?
Valentine with heavy anger turned his eyes away from the blood-spattered bodies:
- Slick! You did not understand anything.
Akbarsh sob, he was shaking:
- But I ... I could not ...
“You don't understand,” Valentine repeated harsherly. “You killed them, they thought so.” You know that you saved ... and we know. But they, when copulating, when crawling in the shit, they did not understand ... that, keeping the skins, they kill ...
- They...
- Listen to me, puppy! They didn't have a shower, got it? These are Americans! These are only stomachs, bank accounts, cars. And you, saving them ... saving from shame, saving their faces, killed our only chance to escape!
Akbarshakh stood pale, his lips quivered, and the hot words of the commander, it seemed, still did not reach consciousness.
“They must not ...” he whispered with his lips alone. - They ... Read more →