Chapter 282 Awakening

The Li-2 transport aircraft, which had already warmed up its twin engines, closed the cabin door and then pushed full power. The wide fuselage taxiing on the narrow airport runway immediately took off with the surging power, heading towards the place that symbolized the hope of salvation. Flying in the sky in the direction of Moscow, it whizzed away quickly.

Looking at the small black dot at the end of his field of vision that had grown so far away that he could barely hear the roar of the engine, Kirill, who still had mixed emotions in his heart, almost subconsciously spoke.

"Can Comrade Commander be saved? I really don't know what our crew would do without him!"

Compared to Kirill's helplessness and hesitation, Iushkin, who had gradually regained his sanity from last night's emotional breakdown, looked particularly calm with his firm eyes.

"Don't worry, those Fascist armor-piercing bullets couldn't kill him, so what does malaria mean? I guarantee you, Kirill, within two months at most, Comrade Commander will return to the army again. Our side!”

Feeling the slight trembling of the entire fuselage as it was pushed to its maximum level flight speed, Malashenko, who was lying flat on a stretcher and fixed to the ground of the cabin, could only watch quietly with his eyes looking up. The cabin above his head was covered with skin and he said nothing. The malaria parasites raging in his body had tortured this battle-hardened body, which even the German tanks had not shaken, to black and blue.

"Perhaps, after death, I can return to my original world. That's probably it."

With such a thought of self-comfort like Ah Q, he smiled faintly, which even the military doctors around him did not notice. Malashenko felt that his eyes were getting heavier and heavier than he could support, and then he closed his eyes and said nothing. unconscious.

It was still the vast white world that was as ethereal as a confused dream. When Malashenko came to this world that was no longer unfamiliar to him again, he did not feel as surprised and curious as when he first arrived last time. It was familiar and yet familiar. The tall figure who felt very friendly then quietly stepped out from the end of Kirigakure and came to the front.

"Maybe this time is our end, Malashenko, are you ready to stop here?"

Compared to the weak, pale and bitter smile on Lin Jie's face, Malashenko, who had been watching everything silently, immediately responded with a completely opposite smile.

"No, my friend, this has only just begun."

"just started?"

Looking at Lin Jie's surprised face that quietly turned around, Malashenko only responded with a faint and mysterious smile, but did not explain any more.

"This should be the last time we meet, my friend. I don't know where my consciousness will go after this. But I only have one last request to ask of you. You must take good care of Na for me. Thalia, she has encountered too many misfortunes in her miserable and miserable childhood, and I, or rather you, are her last remaining support."

"Don't let her lose the courage to live. This is something only you can do! May the great truth guide your way forward in the future. My friend, thank you for giving me a second chance at this lost life. Chance for redemption, see you soon!”

As the lingering sound echoed in his ears, before Lin Jie could reply, the illusory world that had dissipated brought his gradually awakening consciousness back to reality.

"Oh, my God, Comrade Malashenko is awake! Hurry, go and inform Dean Vadubov and Director Kolinkov! Hurry! Sharapova, run! Go now!"

The hurried words echoed in the ears like silver bells, and a wisp of breeze gently blew over Malashenko's face. He slowly opened his eyes. The unique smell of disinfectant that filled the whole room was the wake-up call for Malashenko. The first thing I realized after that was that the ceiling above my head was as white as a vast snowfield and spotless. The early morning breeze was like the gentlest slender hand blowing the snow-white curtains up and down.

Looking at everything within reach in front of him, Malashenko, who had already realized something in a daze, immediately spoke quietly and half-questioningly.

"Am I in the hospital? Am I not dead yet? Am I still alive?"

No one responded to the low-pitched questions he asked three times in a row. Malashenko, who had just sat up with his hands on the edge of the bed, had no time to make any more plans. A group of people walked out of the ward door that was pushed open. People in white clothes in a hurry.

"Comrade Malashenko, how do you feel now? Are you still feeling any obvious discomfort? Are there any signs of headache or fever? Please describe all your feelings and tell me."

A series of rapid-fire questions made Malashenko speechless.

Malashenko, who had completely regained control of his body, turned to gently raise his arms and try to make fists. His still strong hands were full of enough power to crush the vodka bottle. , Malashenko, who no longer felt any discomfort in his body, had recovered as before when he fought in his tank. This familiar and good feeling that could burst out at any time made Marashenko feel like he was resurrected with full blood on the spot. Schenko felt reborn.

"I don't think there's much of a problem anymore. This feeling is much better than when I was fighting on the front line before. Maybe it's because of the rest these days, but I really don't feel any pain at all."

After hearing Malashenko's answer and seeing the body that looked strong and recovered, Dean Vadubov, who was sure that the whole treatment process had brought the best results, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Great, it seems that the malarial parasite has been completely eradicated. It is hard to imagine that quinine is so effective. Those damn Western colonialists have been unwilling to share this special medicine with us. They are really sinister!"

Quinine, a plant herb extracted from cinchona trees, has an incredible special effect on malaria. This was not a rare thing during World War II.

But the Soviet Union, which had been supporting itself in the early days of the Great Patriotic War, had not received any assistance from the Western world at this time. Quinine, a special medicine for malaria that was only produced in tropical and subtropical colonies, was still a very precious and rare drug for the Soviet Union located at the northern end of the earth.

If it weren't for the important instructions personally given by the loving father Comrade Stalin, it would be hard to say whether the quinine that the spies and agents of the Ministry of Internal Affairs who were responsible for foreign intelligence had taken great pains to get back from Western Europe could be used on Malashenko.

The hostile attitude and blockade strategy towards the Soviet Union were still being pursued by the Western capitalist world even in the first few months after the outbreak of the Great Patriotic War.