The Ball. Volume#1. “Kuluangwa”. Michael Ouzikov

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Название The Ball. Volume#1. “Kuluangwa”
Автор произведения Michael Ouzikov
Жанр Ужасы и Мистика
Серия
Издательство Ужасы и Мистика
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9785005501974



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the native boys played very well, strongly owning this black ball, as if they’ve been kicking it from the moment they began to walk. What they lacked in skill, they made up for with their endless enthusiasm and passion which were more than enough to cover the technical flaws. Diego, by contrast, stood out on the field with his technical tricks, which he memorized from his school trainings. And that’s what was amazing about this day – with this little black ball, everyone was playing so damn well. In whatever complex combination Diego could take this little black ball, the two of them immediately merged, becoming one mechanism, and Diego always managed to do with the ball exactly what he wanted. For example, not only did he manage to shoot a nice goal between the legs of the nearly naked goalkeeper, he also made some exceptional passes, one of which also resulted in a goal. And now, with the score 5:5, Diego tried to get a comfortable position in the opponent’s penalty area. His team earned a corner kick, and now both teams stamped before the goalkeeper, pushing shoulders and elbows, hoping to score the winning goal. Or prevent it. By some pre-destined fate, they were playing for that sixth goal.

      The kick! The ball slowly tore the space between multiple bodies, arms, and legs, seemingly freezing over Diego’s head. But instead of jumping and trying to change the direction of the ball with his head, the boy took off vertically, swinging in the air with his whole body, and at the top, continuing to twist, he hit the ball hard towards the net. The goalkeeper didn’t even move while the ball flew right through its target, hit the ground, rolled over and stopped in the lifted white dust. The ball stopped its movement beyond the gate, just at the feet of the ancient and scarred old man. Diego, as a result of falling, deeply cut his left hand against a dry-stemmed bush that grew from the cracked earth. He also cut his eyebrow from the pebbles on the ground. The boy stood up, brushed his dusty shorts and T-shirt, leaving bloody stripes on his chest.

      He was already surrounded by the boys from his team, who were shouting, laughing, and clapping Diego’s shoulders and back. But Diego suddenly stopped, seeing how from the edge of the field that horrible old man was slowly moving in his direction. «You came, you came at last!» Diego heard the deep voice coming at him, although it was crying out in some incomprehensible language. «Let soro ta kama vok! Ton guha!»

      CHAPTER 16

      To: Head of Intelligence Directorate,

      General Staff of the Red Army,

      General I.I. Ilichev

      December 16, 1942

      From the report of GRU Major S.S. Solomakhin

      Comrade General,

      Here is a document received by our fact-finding group that confirms our original suspicion that the former leadership of the OGPU had an interest in the object of our concern.

      FROM THE ARCHIVES OF THE NKVD (6th DIVISION)

      Case №38—9. Top secret.

      Transcript of surveillance recordings

      Moscow, Bolshaya Lubyanka, Building 11, Room 208

      From the book of visitors of Deputy Chairman of the OGPU G.G. Yagoda

      Date – June 12, 1931

      Visitor (Time In / Time Out)

      V.G. Karpov, OGPU Lieutenant (04:16 / 04:27)

      «Allow me to report, Comrade Yagoda?»

      «Come in, Karpov, report what you got on this… Prichitalov?»

      «Uhm…»

      «Uhm… what!?»

      «Uh, I…»

      «What is it? Karpov, you have to pretend that I’m not me, that I’m not Yagoda, but, say, your comrade-in-arms and we are in the midst of crushing the Kronstadt rebellion. You are… (noise). And we’re together, we are eliminating the enemy… (noise) line of attack… And we are not in the Lubyanka right now, but in the storage room….»

      «But I already put everything on record…»

      «That report of yours, Vasiliy, is adequate. You described everything well. But the number of mistakes in there…»

      «Comrade Yagoda, I’m not well-educa…» (noise)

      «Okay, so what’s this with your former fr…» (noise)

      «… he is not my friend, Comrade Yagoda. When I was chased around by the police hounds before the revolution, Prichitalov was an investigator with the Moscow Criminal Department. I was young back then, so he pulled me out of jail, made me promise that I will not under… (noise) help him…»

      «… right.» (noise)

      «He came by yesterday. He’s an old man now, really old. He said, I helped you once, you owe me a favor, but not a heavy one. I trust you, he said, and I want to hand over some documents from a case that the Okhrana9 closed 23 years ago… (noise) concealed and redacted. I don’t need anything, he said, but your department should know this… Deliver this to the head, personally.»

      «Did you read it your… (noise) … and also… mention to anyone else?»

      «I briefly looked at Filippov’s case. Nothing special. He died from a lightning strike. My old man also died from a lightning… (noise) haymaking field… (noise) … The dossier is too heavy, it’s painful to read, all these scientists, numbers, words… (noise). And the part about Chri… (noise) the Savior is just nonsen… (noise) … My mother goes there every weekend. I tell her, your son is in the organs, and you embarrass me like… (noise)»

      «Alright, Karpov. Well done, you are dismissed.»

      «I serve the So… nion.»

      (noise)

      «… about Prichitalov?»

      «Everything will be alright… (noise) Dismissed.»

      «Yes, Comrade Yagoda!»

      Karpov leaves. Pause of 11 minutes and 32 seconds before telephone connection is made with the office secretary.

      (Connection established)

      «Nastya, bring me some strong tea and connect me with Comrade Kaganovich.»

      «Yes, Comrade Yagoda.»

      (Connection, signal made, only a one-way deciphering of the conversation)

      «H-hello, dear Comrade Kaganovich.»

      «…»

      «I don’t sleep, I serve of the proletariat…»

      «…»

      «I had a visitor a few minutes ago, poor man, may his soul rest in peace…»

      «…»

      «What do you want me to say?»

      «…»

      «Yes, our souls…»

      «…»

      «… looks like our concerns are justified. He brought me a stack of papers on the Cathedral of Christ the Savior – you will not be disappointed, dear Comrade.»

      «…»

      «It is very much confirmed.»

      «…»

      «We have to dig up all the corpses, open the crypts, tomb after tomb…»

      «…»

      «I think it is there, in their Russian graves, which they continue to hold on to…»

      «…»

      «And if not, then what?»

      «…»

      «Are



<p>9</p>

The Department for Protecting the Public Security and Order («The Guard»), Russia’s imperial secret police before the 1917 Revolution.