Chapter 114: Elena

  Those guerrilla fighters would never abide by what's known as the Geneva Convention, and two boxers who are seeing red may sometimes forget the referee's calls.

  Going to negotiate with the guerrilla team has a great possibility of being a martyr, but in order to exchange those Soviets back, someone must go to negotiate.

  Who will be sent? Almost everyone's eyes turned towards Nikuberdin.

  "I can't go back, I've become a traitor, if I went back they would flay me." Nikolai Bardin said hastily.

  "We need to find someone familiar with each other to negotiate, Mr. Nikubordin, we need your cooperation." Dorofeyev said "If you complete this matter, the government may appoint you as a position above the rank of division commander in the government army."

  Then I won't go either! Nikolai's heart was calling out, but he knew that he had no other choice and had to go. If he didn't, who knows, these Soviets might turn against him and shoot him first.

  If I had known earlier, I wouldn't have made such a suggestion! Nikolai Bardin was filled with regret.

  "Alright, I'll go." Nikolai Pudovkin gave in.

  "Thank you for the contribution you made to us Soviet medical workers, among whom is this female doctor. You must ensure her safety!" Dorofeev said, pulling out a photo of a pretty young girl.

  "Who is she?" Nikolai Bardin asked.

  "Irena." Dorofeev didn't say much more. "We're waiting for your safe return, Minister."

  Minister? Teacher? Who knows if I'll be gone once I go, Nikubutin thought to himself with a bitter smile, his two legs taking steps. Slowly walking outwards.

  …………

  There were guerrilla fighters all around, and she could see several of them casting their characteristic gaze at her prominent bust, sizing it up repeatedly. Elena was inwardly cursing while her brain was racing rapidly.

  These so-called guerrillas are ruthless killers, and if you fall into their hands, what good can come of it? Who knows, the next moment, you might be...

  What to do? My face has been covered with a mask all the time, if I take off the mask and let others see my appearance, they will surely rush up uncontrollably. It's really unexpected that I would fall into the hands of these barbarians!

  "Ah..." Just then, a voice came from the rooftop next door. A guerrilla fighter's foot slipped and he fell off the roof.

  "Crack..." The crisp sound made everyone's ears soften, and all that could be seen was the companion's foot. It had already reached the back, with a broken leg bone.

  "Morocco!" someone recognized, it was actually one of their own guerrilla team members!

  In order to better observe the enemy, guerrilla fighters would often walk on rooftops. The low houses here are almost all connected, making it easy to move back and forth. But this Moro was not careful. He accidentally fell down, and unfortunately broke his leg.

  "What are you doing?" the partisan who was guarding these medical personnel shouted immediately, seeing Elena get up and walk towards Morozko with a broken leg.

  "Quickly find two wooden boards!" Elena's voice suddenly became very loud. "His leg bones need to be fixed immediately, and then sent to the hospital for a plaster cast. If you don't want him to become lame in the future."

  She finished speaking and arrived in front of Moroco, saying "Endure it."

  With a burst of strength, she straightened Morocco's leg bone again, pinched it with her hand, and judged the location of Morocco's fractured bone.

  Morocco's forehead was covered in big drops of sweat, and he endured it silently, only letting out a cry when they fell off, without saying another word.

  Several guerrilla fighters watched Irina's movements without stopping her.

  Two wooden boards were soon found and Elena placed them on either side of the break, binding them together with strips of cloth.

  "Take him back to the hospital, our dean's orthopedic skills are the best, let him set the bones." Elena said.

  After finishing speaking, Irina sat back in her original position and remained silent.

  That unlucky Moroco was carried away by two people on a stretcher, Irene observed quietly for a while, the eyes of several guerrillas around her no longer had that gaze, at least, she was safe now.

  "Mr. Muhammad!" Just then, several guerrilla fighters around him stood up and greeted a man at the door.

  Is that Muhammad, the leader of those rebels? Irina also turned her head and looked at Muhammad, a tall and wise young man, who was now looking back at her.

  In front of him, the Soviet people temporarily stopped construction. Muhammad walked more than 20 meters to the back and came to the courtyard where the Soviets were detained. These captives are now Muhammad's greatest capital.

  Before entering, Muhammad saw a guerrilla fighter being carried away and learned that he had fallen from the roof, non-combat attrition. Looking at the wooden board on his leg, it was fixed in place very professionally. Upon inquiry, it turned out that it was done by a Soviet prisoner inside.

  This couldn't help but make Muhamed curious - those Soviets, who didn't hate the guerrillas to death, would even treat them?

  With this idea in mind, Muhamed entered the temporary detention center for Soviet prisoners of war and immediately caught the eye of a medical worker.

  The other party still wore a mask, but the eyes cast deep and quiet, full of charm, big eyes, long eyelashes, almost guessing that under the mask, it should be a beautiful face.

  She is also very tall and has a well-proportioned figure.

  "Was it you who just helped our guerrilla fighter set his broken leg?" Muhammad asked.

  "In my eyes, there's only a patient." Elena said "I saw that his thigh was injured and knew he needed treatment."

  There are many things that transcend borders, such as ideas... This sentence is simply nonsense! Muhammad doesn't believe that the other side only sees patients in their eyes.

  "I came here with only one purpose, to heal and save people. This is the glorious mission of a white-robed angel." Irina continued to say.

  "Haha." Muhammad smiled instead "So you're saying that you Soviets came here with a great peaceful purpose?"

  "You're absolutely right," Elena said. "A rebellion has broken out in Afghanistan, and as a friendly neighboring country, we have an obligation to help Afghanistan maintain normal order. Our great Soviet Union came here with peaceful intentions to help Afghanistan get through the difficult times, unfortunately, there are some people who don't understand."

  "Every robber will find a pretext for his actions," Muhammad said. "If there is a rebellion in Moscow, we Afghans should also appear there to help you maintain order in the Kremlin? Even your next tsar should come to power under our protection?"

  "Don't you dare insult our great Motherland! We are the Great Soviet, not an empire!" Elena said.

  "You have barbarously invaded our country, more so than the Tsarist Russia ever did." Muhammad said "So, take back your words, we don't welcome Soviets because you are invaders!"

  "No! We came with peaceful intentions, our hospital has treated many Afghans!"

  "You are all obedient to you." Muhammad said "How come I don't see you going deep into the mountains of Afghanistan to rescue those who really need to be rescued? Even if they have a serious illness, they can only rely on folk remedies and do not even have an injection for pain relief!"

  "I'm willing to go!" Elena said "Medicine is borderless."

  "Really?" Muhammad stared at her with a puzzled gaze, wondering if this woman had really been brainwashed by the Soviet high-ups and brought to Afghanistan under the guise of great friendship.

  "Report, we have a guest." Just then, a voice sounded behind Muhammad. Muhammad turned his head and saw Fahim gritting his teeth.

  "Who?" Muhammad asked.

  "Nichubtin!" Fakhim said "He says he's come to negotiate on behalf of the Soviets, to negotiate with us."

  You traitor, Nikoubtin! How dare you show up now? Muhhamed looked at Fahim's expression as if he wanted to swallow Nikoubtin whole.

  "Bring him over," Muhammad said.

  Nikubutin's left eye had turned into a black eye socket, with blood at the corner of his mouth. His gait was also off, limping along. Clearly, he had just been beaten up badly by his own side, and not being killed was already quite good for him.

  "Move faster!" Seeing Nikubdin slowing down, a guerrilla fighter behind him slammed the butt of his rifle into Nikubdin's back, sending him stumbling forward several steps.

  Among the people who escorted him, Masood had been suppressing his impulse. He hated to get rid of Nikubdin now, and if there was no Nikubdin, there would be no current predicament. Even if they escaped, the strength of the guerrilla force would have lost more than half!

  "Mr. Mohammad, I am the representative of the 40th Army of the Soviet Union in Afghanistan and also the current Foreign Minister of Afghanistan," said Nikhubdin. "I strongly protest to you, your guerrillas have just caused me great personal injury!"

  Looking at Nikubutin's demeanor, it was the same as when he first met Nikubutin, who was then representing the alliance. He was so high and mighty back then, and now he's already the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Hmph, Minister of Foreign Affairs? In my eyes, you're nothing but a joke!

  "Give me a punch! Just leave some breath!" Muhammad's voice was calm.