Now almost everyone in the office was disgruntled, half asleep and angry about it. They had only had three hours of sleep after their hard work.

Try to wake up a person, and then ask him about his attitude to you at a given time – if it is not your closest relative, the answer will most likely be "negative". Wake up a bear early, and he will go around and kill everyone who gets caught, and not because he is so bad, but because you broke his regime. You break the regime, you break the system. You break the system in one place, you break it everywhere.

Those present were also in charge of several hundred people, all of whom they thought about without ceasing. Pozharin felt it all perfectly, especially now that he was alone with them. In private, reality itself, without challenge,

comes out.

After two minutes of exclamation of all but Gabriel about what was going on, everything was stopped by Volin with the question: "Gora, why are you silent?".

Gabriel looked at Dominic, "You're right. He should be killed."

Everyone knew the commander of the 381st Soma perfectly well, and even better knew his instructions about not killing chums now, because for each of them they would kill a dozen of ours, toughen the regime and God knows what else; nobody expected such an answer.

"Have you decided to change your positions. Or is this Volinsky humor," Dubrovsky asked.

"No. The positions are the same. – Gabriel continued to speak. – But Manhr is dangerous to us now. Because he is alone, without an empire. But only for now. Until he pays his debts. And only now can he be killed."

Surprisingly enough, it was the most ardent supporter of "killing enemies indiscriminately" who opposed him: "He's a plague. He is one of them. When we kill one of them, they will kill a dozen of us. You said so yourself.

"I did. And I don't deny it… But he's not one of them now. He's one of them now. And when we kill him, they'll take his possessions and rest on that. He's a thief. Who'd want to avenge a thief like that? And to make sure we don't have any questions, we'll get the Maquis involved."

"It would have been all right. – Peter continued to ask. – But how will you convince them too? If they wanted it, they would have done it a long time ago.

"That's already my problem… Right now I need three men on the surface, and Manhr will be dead by the 27th."

When Maria returned to the first sector, in addition to the eight elderly people, she noticed her fiancé with a bandaged arm. Raphael was reading something brownish in color.

Maria slowly walked up behind him and sat down on her knees and covered his eyes with her palms.

Raphael did not calculate the probability of someone returning to the "lounge" (or simply "bedroom" as everyone called it), inhaling and recognizing the smell and tenderness of hands, but simply said "Maria". Loved ones are felt with the heart, not the senses.

They embraced, and for a moment they forgot that there was anything else around. But only for a moment, they couldn't go on: everything around them was too disgusting and disgusting.

"How's your arm?" – Maria asked, stroking the row of bandages wound from elbow to fingers.

"Fine," Raphael replied and stroked her braid that hung from her head and down to the middle of her back. "I know your 'fine'… Does it hurt?"

"No, my love, it doesn't hurt…? Did my father send you here?" "Yes."

"Did you tell him?"

"He already knew when he came to me. I just confirmed it. You didn't have to?" "I must, I must, Mash… Did you tell me about the baby?"

"he realized it himself… I threw up right in front of him…" "Oh, and you're also asking me about my health." "Beloved. It's common in pregnancy…"

"Yeah I know, but whatever."

"That's all the same, Gavriil Vladimirovich sent me here."

"Did you get there without adventure? Didn't anyone from the tower ask about it?" "No. They were sleeping there."

Raphael laughed a little, then said, "That's who we lost to."

"You know, I've been thinking… I think you're overthinking this…" "Mash, that's what everyone's thinking."

"Yes, but you're special… Here, what were you reading just now?"

"Raphael didn't though as he held out a book to her. "Twentieth Century Terrorism. "So what is it?"

"It says so right here."

"Yes I can see that… Beloved." "What?"

"I'm afraid for you."

"And I'm afraid for you and I don't want you to live here."

"And what do you suggest…? It's not our fault it's like this. We just have to get over it."

"No. Stop worrying about it. This is the fourth generation we've been doing just that. It's time to change things." "Beloved, please don't do this. You know how rebellions end. Please, love, don't leave me… We're going to have a

baby soon. Think of him. Please… Don't go and die," Maria was saying it from that part of her heart that can only be spoken to someone you care for more than anyone else in the world; for five days now she had seen him somehow different, she didn't know how, but definitely different, and there was nothing more frightening than that shape.

It is not a problem to imagine what a person living at home who "disagrees" with something is like – as a rule, outwardly he does not differ from the "agreeing" person; maybe he even thinks the same way, only in the "other" direction.

But if this "dissenter" took up arms, not because he is so used to it, but because he was brought to it, his appearance changes to "indefinable recognizability". And that means the following:

The first is escaped slaves (and from completely different places: sawmill, mine, rig – anything) becoming themselves within the framework of free runaway;

The second is people from different places, mostly arriving on their own, entering the established subculture there, while acquiring qualities they might not have thought of before;

Third, having escaped from slavery, people who fall under the influence of a new charismatic leader unknown to themselves, striving for the one and only true, first of all for himself, goal – the freedom of all mankind without exception.

In general, all separately taken groups of maquis are united on energies of certain persons – leaders. There were not a few cases when after the death of the leader the group collapsed, and already separate particles merged into those where there was a "similar" leader: in fact, in general, the people, if they are the people and not a mass unbridled on politics, do not care how tall the leader is, and what his views on the structure of the World, as long as he led to the goal that is vital for them – to free the Earth from the plagues.

This was the case with the "Wolf" group, which not so long ago joined the "Bohdan Khmelnitsky" group. Now the total pressure territory of this association extended to the entire former Eastern Ukraine plus the Kursk, Belgorod, Voronezh and Rostov regions.

There was a lot of talk about their leader Viktor Khmelnitsky. First, whether he was a descendant of the national hero of Ukraine, in whose honor the group was named. Secondly, where he was from, i.e. from what mining zone and what kind of occupation. Thirdly, what contacts he had and whether they existed at all.