Chapter 1009 The Father's Summons

The story of the Red Stalingrad ended here, but some other related matters derived from it have not yet ended.

Less than a day after Malashenko returned to Moscow and threw himself into the arms of his beautiful wife.

Lieutenant Colonel Malokov, a good comrade from the Ministry of Internal Affairs, visited Malashenko again, found him and brought him a very shocking news in person.

"What did you say? Comrade Stalin wants me to see him? This afternoon?"

Looking at Malashenko's face full of surprise and disbelief, Malokov, who had seen Malashenko like this for the first time, smiled and spoke to Malashenko to comfort him.

"Don't worry, this is something you can do safely."

"The order was given by the Supreme Leader Comrade Stalin himself, so there is no written order. Strictly speaking, this is even a secret that can only be known by those who are deemed qualified to know. Of course, you are definitely included, but don't mention it to others, even your fiancée."

There were only Malashenko and Malokov in the empty apartment. Natalia was called away by the troupe this morning, saying that there was an urgent matter to deal with. It would take about one morning to finish the matter and she could return home at noon.

Malashenko didn't know if this was someone Malokov deliberately arranged to send Natalia away to avoid unnecessary trouble, but it was obvious that Malokov, who was halfway through his words, did not stop there.

"Objectively speaking, this was a secret summons by Comrade Stalin. You won't even see any record of this in any reports or books. Maybe decades later this matter will be made public, but at least not now. Do you understand what I mean? My good brother."

""

Although Malashenko understood the literal meaning of what Malokov wanted to express, he couldn't figure out some deeper things.

What reason did he have to be summoned secretly by Comrade Stalin? Did he do something terrible that would make him a traitor?

No, if that were the case, I'm afraid I would have been arrested by the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and Malokov wouldn't have sat next to me with a smile, drinking and talking with me, calling me a brother. It would be reasonable for him to hold an arrest warrant in one hand and a pistol in the other hand pointing at my forehead. It would be normal for a large group of burly Ministry of Internal Affairs action teams to be arranged in the room.

And all this terrible thing didn't happen at the moment. Does this mean that Comrade Stalin summoned me for some good thing?

After thinking for a long time, Malashenko was neither clear nor determined, but since the order from the Supreme Leader had been delivered, it was not something he could refuse. Moreover, Malokov, who had a good relationship with him, was arranged to deliver the order, which conveyed some relatively warm and gentle meanings, rather than cold and cruel.

If Malashenko guessed correctly, this was probably a way of conveying "relaxation" to himself.

With a snack in his mouth, he took two more sips of vodka. Malokov, who was satisfied with the order, only drank one glass and did not drink more. After all, there was still a lot of work waiting for him, the team leader, to take people to deal with in the afternoon.

"Okay, that's it. I came here specifically to tell you this. The time is set at 1:30 pm in the Kremlin. You have less than an hour and a half to prepare. If you need to take my ride, I can take you there. Do you need it?"

Being disturbed by this sudden event, he was no longer in the mood to wait for his beautiful wife to come back.

Malashenko, holding the wine glass in his hand, was a little depressed and wanted to take another sip, but when he thought of the man he was going to meet in the afternoon, he was the iron father of the entire Soviet Union. He was afraid that his drunkenness would leave a bad impression on Comrade Stalin, so he nodded gently while putting down the wine glass.

"Give me ten minutes, I'll go and pack up, I'll be ready soon, wait for me here."

Driving under the influence is illegal, and in the future, it will be severely punished after being caught by the police.

But Malokov, who had drunk two taels of vodka, didn't care about such trivial matters at all. The small flag of the Ministry of Internal Affairs was inserted on the hood of the car. This was his pass to travel freely in Moscow and no one dared to stop him. As long as he didn't drive to the Kremlin or some military restricted areas, he could drive as he wanted in the city, and no one dared to ask extra questions.

After changing into the brand new tank colonel uniform washed by Natalia, Malashenko, who was a little confused, touched the stubble on his chin and looked out the window. His bright eyes were full of thoughts.

Looking at Malashenko's tangled expression, Malokov smiled calmly and quietly opened the topic with his hands on the steering wheel.

"I was received by Comrade Stalin at the political and ideological meeting of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, along with other comrades. When it was my turn, he shook my hand warmly and encouraged me to contribute more to the motherland in my position."

"At that moment, I felt that my life had been sublimated and my life was worth it. Comrade Stalin recognized my work. I swear that I am willing to dedicate everything for the motherland and fight all saboteurs and enemies to the end! It doesn't matter if the children in the future don't remember my name. There will always be people like me who need to contribute to the motherland."

Malokov said this to reassure his good brother Malashenko and to express that Comrade Stalin was a good leader who was kind to his comrades.

But how could the sincere Malokov know the true identity of his good brother? Malashenko, who had never mentioned his true identity to anyone, not even Natalia, heard that Malokov After these words, I felt something different in my heart.

"Many things will be deliberately forgotten or even erased, and there are more than just one or two people who are not remembered. You and I are just a small boat on this sea of ​​forgetfulness."

The words of emotion confined to his own heart were accompanied by a sigh. Malashenko, who had already thought about something, smiled and answered to his good brother.

"I know what to do, trust me."

Malokov, who was turning around the intersection with his hands on the steering wheel, was a little surprised, but after being stunned for a moment, he quickly changed his smile.

"This is the best. I believe you can do it. Believe in yourself! Come on!"

After going through various complicated procedures and waiting, Malashenko, who handed over his personal weapons and was searched three times, finally stood in front of the final door with a not-so-relaxed mood.