Читать книгу "Struggle. Taste of power - Владимир Андерсон"

taught him not to talk about work matters while drunk. — We would be blessed to have your blessing for our service, Metropolitan Priest Samoh.

— That's not why I'm here. — answered Samokh. — But if you insist, of course I'll give my blessing. A little later… In the meantime, tell me, Colonel. Are there many doubts in the souls of your subordinates?

— There is no doubt when all time is spent in service to the Black Stone. Our employees pray regularly, which gives them strength. And your visit will only strengthen them in the fulfillment of their difficult duty.

I haven't seen any church buildings to pray in. — The inquisitor said, looking around.

— Oh. We have a chapel, which was recently consecrated by one of your clergymen who passed by our location. I've forgotten his name…" said Bazankhr, smiling sweetly. He was obviously lying about both the chapel and the passing priest, which couldn't be the case, but it was impossible not to make up a lie on the fly. He had just been caught in a certain kind of violation of the Church's rites — it was forbidden to pray by oneself without any presence of the Church. Either a proper plague, with a holy right and privy to the mystery, or a place suitably arranged and consecrated, was required.

— Show me that chapel. There I will conduct a prayer service for the good of our cause.

— Of course. I will personally show it to you. — Bazankhr pointed to the door and moved forward, but before he left, he suddenly turned around and said loudly to his deputy. — Oh, and, that errand I said earlier needs to be done urgently. While the priest-metropolitan Samokh and I are in the chapel.

They stepped out into the corridor and moved toward the stairs. There were more and more paintings of warlike plagues, in armor and with cold weapons, striking their enemies.

— Colonel, what is this urgent errand that you need to do on my arrival? — realizing that it was obviously not a short walk, Samokh asked.

— Oh. Of course, improving security measures upon your arrival… You know, there is no such thing as too much security, even though we recently defeated another Maquis battalion in the Diza sector… Your safety is especially important to us.

Samokh had heard about the incident, but according to his sources, it was a Hivi group fighting there, not the JFK. And Maquis casualties were counted as two companies, not a whole battalion. But you can't catch me by the hand about the Hivis, because everyone knows the role of the KFOR in the organization and management of these units. And whether it was a battalion or two companies, you can't prove anything at all — according to the papers, the KFK will reflect the number in a specific figure, and next to it they will add the corresponding Maquis unit, and in this case it will be possible to say that the battalion was not full, and the retreating soldiers just took the bodies of their killed comrades with them — by such simple arithmetic it will turn out to be a battalion instead of two companies.

They went up to the third floor and went in the opposite direction. They reached the end again and began to ascend to the fourth floor. Bazankhr was clearly in uniform, but the six novices accompanying Samokh were already a little out of breath.

In the end, on the fourth floor we reached the middle of the building, found the right door, and then it turned out that the key was somewhere on the first floor:

— How ridiculous. — Bazankhre was indignant. It's all right. I'll get in touch and the key will be brought to us. He pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke loudly into it:

— This is Basalt-01. Basalt-02, take the chapel keys to the fourth floor, room 408.

Samoh was beginning to get bored with the spectacle:

— Colonel, don't your employees know what room the chapel is in?

— Of course they do. Of course… But it's one thing to know the way, and another to know the number… Nobody looks at the number. Everyone walks here by memory, not looking at the inscriptions…

— So they wouldn't have told them the room number now. They'd have come from memory.

— Your Eminence, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. — almost bowed to the secret police. — It was only to show you the chapel as quickly as possible. I'm really sorry about the keys.

After only a minute and a half, Deputy Bazankhra appeared with the keys. Handing them over, he gave out another piece of news:

— Mr. Colonel, they moved the chapel to the third floor in the other wing of the building, right?

— How? When? — Bazanhr was sharply surprised, feigning a full range of amazement.

— After all, the clergyman said there was too much light in this room and told me to move it to another room at the earliest opportunity. Where it's dark.

Samoh was enraged at what he heard:

— Are you playing games with me, Colonel?! Mocking the holy church?!

The SS man almost bowed again:

— What-oh-you… What-oh-you… I had no idea… I apologize for this misunderstanding. My staff works too fast, sometimes you can't see how fast they follow commands… Please, let me show you the chapel.

Bazanhr didn't even wait for his words to be responded to in any way and rushed to the third floor to the exact opposite wing of the building.

This time the room was really something like a chapel. It was windowless, dusty, and looked more like a closet. It was obvious that it had been equipped in some way, and only to show what was expected to be seen: a small altar, candlesticks and pedestals for placing prayer candles, icons depicting the Black Stone and the priests worshipping it, all very small or pocket-sized.

Samoh was disgusted by the sight, but he couldn't help but recognize that it