Chapter 3202 Disappearance (Part 1)

There was no grand ceremony. The wedding was simple. In addition to the guests who attended, there were only a few tables of banquets. In the small but warm house, there were blessings.

Amid the waves of blessings and cheers from the crowd, Malashenko, who had kissed his new wife countless times, was still "forced to continue". At the same time, he kept toasting and drinking in rounds of toasts.

Even Natalia could not "escape". The female comrades from the song and dance troupe took turns to clink glasses. Natalia, who had drunk five or six glasses of vodka, had a red cheek like a ripe apple. It seemed that she could not resist.

Seeing this, Malashenko hurriedly signaled his wife to take a break and bring him wine.

It would not matter if he did not say it. Once he said it, another glass of wine "came".

Malashenko, who felt that it was more difficult to deal with than commanding a war, barely resisted until he found that there was only one person missing from the crowd of people who kept toasting and cheering. Then he suddenly felt that most of the alcohol had dissipated.

"Where is Comrade Political Commissar? Why can't I see Comrade Political Commissar?"

"Ahaha - keep drinking - uh, Comrade Political Commissar?"

Lavrinenko, who was drinking with someone beside him, hurriedly looked up and glanced around when he heard this. He looked at every corner of the room but couldn't find the familiar figure.

"Maybe he went to the bathroom?"

It is true that this possibility cannot be ruled out, but Malashenko, who was full of laughter and joy, always felt a sense of inexplicable uneasiness.

After thinking about it, he was still worried, so he decided to go and look for him himself.

However, when Malashenko, who had pulled himself out of the crowd on the pretext of something, really found Comrade Political Commissar in the bathroom, the situation in front of him really shocked Malashenko.

"Commissar, comrade commissar! You vomited blood again!"

The large blood stains in the sink had not yet disappeared. The commissar, who was holding the edge of the sink, waved his hand to signal not to shout too loudly. With the support of Malashenko, he slowly spoke.

"Cough - this broken body is really disappointing. It just happened to be at this time - cough cough - I can't hold on at this time, cough cough -"

"Sorry, I thought I could at least hold on until today, but I didn't expect - cough cough - oh, I'm embarrassed on this festive day, really -"

"Okay! Stop talking! Don't I know what's going on with you? Hurry up first -"

Malashenko, who was supporting the commissar, hadn't finished speaking yet. He was about to help the commissar walk outside and quickly call someone to send him to the hospital.

But he didn't expect that the commissar, who had just helped the commissar leave the sink for two steps, was so weak that he couldn't even walk, and his feet softened, and he collapsed directly into Malashenko's arms.

"Comrade Political Commissar! Comrade Political Commissar!!!"

"What's going on? What happened?"

Zhukov, Vatutin, Lavrinenko and others rushed out of the door after hearing Malashenko's shout. At a glance, they saw Malashenko supporting the unconscious political commissar in the corridor and speaking repeatedly.

"Quick! Send him to the hospital. The political commissar has fainted!"

"Call a taxi, hurry up and call a taxi! Give me a hand, hurry up!"

"Let Karachev fly back to Moscow immediately. He has been responsible for the condition of the political commissar. I don't care what he is doing! Tell him to come back quickly!"

The group hurriedly sent the political commissar to the hospital. Shortly afterwards, Karachev, the director of the military field hospital in the Shenyang Leader Army in Northeast China, also received an urgent telegram.

"Comrade Karachev, an urgent call from Moscow! Comrade Political Commissar is in critical condition, you need to rush over immediately."

"What!?"

Karachev, who was reading the diagnosis report in his hand, stood up from his chair and had a brief conversation with the new commander of the Leader Army, Kurbalov, who came to inform him personally. After understanding the situation, he immediately closed his eyes with regret.

"I am so stupid, so stupid! I shouldn't have let Comrade Political Commissar go back alone, I should have accompanied him!"

"Don't talk about this, pack up and get ready to go! I will arrange the next flight for you, get on the car and leave in ten minutes! Hurry!"

Karachev, who was rushing all the way, flew back to Moscow overnight. As soon as he got off the plane, he got on the special car that had been waiting for him, and immediately went to the hospital to engage in emergency treatment for Comrade Political Commissar.

When Karachev, who had been busy for several hours, finally walked out of the ward, the people who had been waiting at the door for a long time immediately rushed over.

"How is Comrade Commissar? How is the situation?"

"Is Comrade Commissar's condition getting better? You have been responsible for taking care of him for so long, you must have a way, right?!"

Faced with the repeated questions from Lavrinenko and Iushkin, Karachev, who was speechless, immediately cast his eyes on Malashenko who was silent.

It's not that Malashenko is indifferent to Comrade Commissar's situation. It's obviously impossible for a person to say that he doesn't care here.

It's just that Malashenko has always felt that the day he feared the most has finally come. Looking at Karachev's speechless expression, Malashenko can almost guess the helpless words squeezed out of his mouth.

"We have tried our best, everyone, all comrades have tried their best but"

"Sorry, Comrade Commissar has persisted for too long. It is his faith and will that have been supporting him. His body has-"

"Ah-what are you talking about!? You know-"

"Shut up! Iushkin!"

Kalachev's words were interrupted by Iushkin, who was almost out of control, and was stopped by Malashenko. He took a deep breath and asked softly, then faced Karachev and blurted out.

"How much time is left?"

"Maybe half a day, maybe a few hours, maybe more than ten minutes or even a few minutes, it is impossible to predict. There are no clinical cases for reference. I have already read all the literature. Comrade Political Commissar is a miracle in itself."

""

Malashenko, with his eyes slightly closed, felt that his brain was blank and he couldn't speak. Karachev, who walked slowly forward to Malashenko, seemed to want to say something, but he hesitated when the words came to his lips, and finally left only a simple sentence.

"He wants to see you, leaving the last time for you, and is still waiting."

"Got it."

Malashenko walked past Karachev and came to the door of the ward. He was about to push the door open, but suddenly stopped.

He turned his head again and looked at his comrades who were waiting at the door of the ward, with faces of grief, surprise, or dullness. Finally, Vatutin personally stepped forward, patted Malashenko's arm and said.

"Go, don't leave any regrets, whether for him or yourself."