Chapter 43 Zakharov
Chebyshev felt as if he was thrown into the air, and then fell heavily on the ground. The back of his head hit the ground heavily. The severe pain made Chebyshev open his eyes, and in front of him was a dirty rag. Chebyshev didn't know what was going on, and tried to remove the rag covering his face with his hands, but he felt that his hands were already tied.
At this moment Chebyshev was completely awake, he knew that he should be tied up, and his face should be covered with sacks if nothing else happened. The feeling of shaking around is probably because he is in a car. Chebyshev wanted to sit up, but suddenly kicked him hard in the chest with one foot, kicked him back again, and then that foot stepped on his chest, Chebyshev struggled even more, and then a hard The thing was on top of his head.
Chebyshev led his men down for a drink last night in order to relax, but he forgot what Somalia was. Even in a safe zone, it is still the locals who do business. Chebyshev and his companions had been watched as soon as they set foot on this land, and when he went to drink, someone tampered with his wine. Then an armed force broke into the safe area, killing the owner of the tavern, several customers and a small UN team who came to help, before taking Chebyshev and his men captive.
Chebyshev didn't know what was put in his wine, he just felt that he had a splitting headache, his mouth was dry, and he had no strength in his whole body. Chebyshev had been on the battlefield before, and Chebyshev was never as scared as he is now when his troops were surrounded by jihadists. But the remaining sliver of reason told him that he had to calm down.
After about ten minutes, Chebyshev stopped resisting, and finally moved his feet away from his chest. Chebyshev breathed slowly to adjust his emotions. His eyes can't see, but his ears can still hear. Chebyshev listened attentively, the sound of cars, people talking, and... the sound of waves?
After an unknown amount of time, Chebyshev felt the car finally stop. Then he was pulled up from the ground. The man who was pulling him threw him out of the car. Then dragged him through the rough road. Chebyshev almost tripped several times. He could feel the sand pouring into his shoes, and he could indeed hear the sound of waves in his ears. Just when he was wondering what this place was, the person who was dragging him knocked him down to the ground. Just as he was about to stand up, someone kicked him in the hollow of the leg from behind, and Chebyshev was forced to Kneeling on the ground, the sack on his head was finally removed. The glare of the sun made Chebyshev unable to see anything, and it took him a while to recover.
There are people with guns everywhere, they don't have uniforms. Everyone is dressed in tatters, and most of them have slippers on their feet. Many people still wear turbans on their heads. Not far away is the sea, while Chebyshev was still watching. A voice suddenly asked: "Who is the boss among you?"
No one answered, and Chebyshev bowed his head, not daring to respond. He wasn't sure why these people arrested them, was it a ransom? Or food? But the eyes of Chebyshev's subordinates gave away his identity. Someone picked him up from behind and lifted his chin with his hand. The man who had just asked aloud was a strong black man who was walking towards Chebyshev wearing dark glasses. Then he asked viciously, "Did you bring the food?"
Chebyshev looked at each other nervously, and he nodded. Now Chebyshev felt that the pressure was too great, and he couldn't help swallowing a mouthful of saliva.
"Give me all the food, or I will kill you?" The other party directly threatened, but Chebyshev dared not agree. He can't decide such a big matter. Only Italy has the right to decide what to do with the food. deal with.
"I want... I want to ask my boss for instructions?" Chebyshev replied after a long silence.
"Aren't you their boss?" the leader of the kidnappers asked angrily,
He thought Chebyshev was playing him.
"No, it's the boss of all of us, in Italy!" Chebyshev felt that he had calmed down a little, and he replied cautiously.
"You dare to play me?" The other party grabbed his collar and asked growlingly. A black face approached and sprayed Chebyshev with saliva.
"I'm telling the truth, I have to tell my boss about this!" Chebyshev said calmly.
The leader of the kidnappers stepped on Chebyshev, and Chebyshev no longer avoided his eyes. After half a day, the kidnappers backed down. He let go of Chebyshev's collar. Then he walked into the room and took out a satellite phone after a while. Chebyshev was a little surprised. He didn't expect these people to have satellite phones. You know, this is not cheap, and one phone costs about tens of thousands of dollars.
Chebyshev quickly dialed his boss's phone number, and luckily the phone was connected immediately. Chebyshev hastily reported what happened to him. The person who answered the phone was not Yakov, but a senior gang cadre who was in charge of Chebyshev. Of course, he didn’t dare to call the shots when he heard that such a big thing happened. On the phone, he told Chebyshev to wait first. For a moment, then hung up the phone. The news of the kidnapping of Chebyshev and his men quickly reached Yakov's ears layer by layer. Yakov didn't dare to be negligent, anyway, the food had already been shipped to Somalia, who would not hand it over to him? As long as the person is fine, Yakov naturally agreed.
Chebyshev quickly got Yakov's authorization to hand over the grain. As long as it can be exchanged for the safety of your subordinates. Only then did Chebyshev put his heart in his stomach. I feel in my heart that the Gorky Brotherhood is finally not a ruthless organization that ignores the distressed subordinates. He said to the leader of the kidnappers: "Okay, I can give you the food, but you have to let me go back. I want to go back and make arrangements?"
"No, you can't go, let your hands go down!" The leader of the kidnappers shook his head and said.
Chebyshev can't help it, but these men of his are all peripheral members of the Gorky Brotherhood, and they are not even Soviet. If they never returned, Chebyshev would be dead. For now, only the Central Asian Zakharov in his hands can be trusted, so Chebyshev called Zakharov, his only compatriot here, and said to him: "Brother, Our current inscriptions are in your hands! You go back with the general’s people, get the food out of the United Nations warehouse and give them to them, please brother!”