Homer loves Mindy simmons
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07 Home 2Chapter 78 free porn video
Flashback – Ben – Leaving Moscow
I was having a hell of a dream about - no that was not right since it was a hell of a nightmare: Jack the old fucking fart decided to retire from the Marines! He ended up sitting around the house on his ass getting fat, harassing everyone on the computer (including me) and basically pissing off Masha until she was ready to leave him. Worst of all I was stuck without a spotter. Then I heard a funny noise, began to wake up and realized it was the wolf whining. I snapped awake, quickly grabbed my AK from the gun rack on the passenger side of my козел, watched as she took off like her tail was on fire and realized she warned me because I had human company. Yeah, a large and noisy flatbed Камаз (Kamaz, a big Russian truck) was driving toward me. I was not sure who the fuck it was but I was not going to wait around in my козел like a sitting duck to see. I opened the driver's door, stepped out with the AK held in a high ready position and waved. The камаз stopped a respectful distance away from my козел then two old as hell men got out of the truck and glared at me, then the driver shook his fist and complained, "What are you doing at our quarry? Are you the дурак (durok – rhymes with Barack and means fool) who destroyed our gate?"
Shit, I guess this quarry wasn't as abandoned as I thought it was. I slowly lowered the AK and apologized, "Yes, I destroyed the gate and I am sorry but I thought the quarry was abandoned. I will pay for fixing the gate."
The passenger appeared less angry as he asked, "What are you doing here?"
I thought for a quick moment and decided it couldn't hurt telling them the truth so I answered, "I am on a mission, had driven all night and was tired and hungry. So I made a meal and took a nap. And now if you don't mind I would like to use your quarry to sight in my rifle before going after the Chechen bastards who attacked the school in Beslan, North Ossetia."
When I mentioned the Chechen bastards both the old men turned their heads to the side and spat on the ground in disgust. It was a bit cold so I leaned my AK against the козел, reached inside, grabbed my jacket and put it on. Then I picked up my AK, all while keeping an eye on the two of them. The minute my jacket was on, they looked at each other and begin to whisper - I sure as hell didn't like it so I brought the AK back up to ready position.
They both noticed the movement of the AK, held up their hands in surrender and the driver said, "Do not worry about the gate. It is an honor having you here Sir! Is there any way in which we could help you?"
I looked down, and noticed the fucking Russian field jacket had a smaller version of the ribbon bar that was on my other uniform (damn Russian uniforms revealed too much information!). I also realized they saw the fucking mystery medals Yuri gave me and reacted like all the guards at the many checkpoints I passed through on my way here. Yeah, again with the fucking 'Sir'. I wasn't sure which was worse, being a Captain and all the 'Sir' bullshit or the fucking medals. No, after only a little thought, I decided the medals were certainly the worst. It renewed my resolve to kick Yuri's ass when or if I ever got back to Moscow.
They continued whispering to each other and the driver again asked, "Sir, is there any way in which we could help you?"
It was time for me to fish or cut bait - to trust these two old men or to just kick their asses. I felt bad about the gate anyway so I said, "I damaged your gate so of course I will pay for fixing it. Just let me sight in my rifle and then I will stop interfering with you and be on my way."
I proved my trust in them when I slung the AK over my shoulder, turned my back on them and walked to the back of my Козел. I opened it up, slid out the big wooden crate, which was heavy as hell, and strained a bit as I sat it on the ground. I noticed the two of them had come around the back of my Козел, but not so close as to be a threat. The passenger said to the driver, "Look Sergei at the markings on that wooden crate - that is a PTRD-411. I haven't seen one of those since the Great Patriotic War."
1 PTRD-41 A bolt action anti-tank rifle firing the potent 14.5mmx114mm cartridge.
Sergei (at least I knew the driver's name) replied, "Yes, I remember you firing one at the German Panzers."
I looked at them and realized I was lucky as hell to run into them in the middle of nowhere and it was a good thing I didn't kick their asses. I stood up, smiled and asked, "So you two were in the Great Patriotic War? And did one of you use a PTRD like this one?
Sergei replied, "Yes 'SIR', my friend Oleg and I fought the German bastards during the siege of Leningrad. Oleg was an expert with the PTRD while I helped to carry the ammunition. However we are not heroes like you are."
It was the damn rank and medals again! I needed to nip this in the bud so I said, "Please, I am just a soldier like you two were. I am Captain Anatoly Andreev Alexandrov, please call me Anatoly Andreev. And Oleg, since you are an expert on the PTRD would you like to help me with it because I have never fired one?
I knew I had done a great thing when Oleg smiled at me and answered, "Yes Sir, it would be a great honor to help you with the intricacies of the PTRD. Would you mind if I removed her from the box?"
I stepped back, motioned toward the wooden crate with my hands and said, "Be my guest."
I saw a few tears in Oleg's eyes as he reverently walked up to the wooden box that contained the PTRD, laid his hand on it, turned, looked at Sergei, smiled and said, "Sergei, I never dreamed I would ever have this honor again. And to be allowed this honor by a great warrior of Russia means even more."
I was tired of this hero worship bullshit so I ordered, "Sergei and Oleg attention!"
I was impressed that despite all these years after being in the Great Patriotic War, they both snapped to the best attention they could, given their advancing age. I looked at them attempting to stand at attention and it sort of scared me. Hell, neither one of them could stand straight even though they both tried their best. Just watching them made my back ache and I wondered if I would be able to even stand when or if I reached their ages.
I addressed them, "Comrades! Please do not insult me further with the 'hero worship'. Both of you fought in the Great Patriotic War in one of the most brutal sieges in the history of mankind and are heroes in your own right. Now as you were."
I could tell that my words had the effect I wanted on them when Sergei reached inside his coat, produced a bottle of vodka and suggested, "Perhaps we should all drink as comrades?"
He handed me the bottle, I unscrewed the cap, took one small drink and said, "Okay, but only one because I have work to do."
Oleg had taken the PTRD out of the wooden crate and was admiring it. It was a thing of beauty. He racked the bolt, checked the barrel and remarked, "She has never been fired. How were you able to discover a virgin PTRD?"
Sergei took a drink from the bottle, handed it to Oleg and answered, "Oleg, you insult the Comrade Captain by asking that question."
Oleg set the PTRD on the wooden crate and apologized, "Yes Sergei you are correct - please forgive me comrade Captain." Then he took a hell of a slug from the bottle.
I gently reminded him, "Oleg do not become too intoxicated otherwise you cannot show me the intricacies of the PTRD."
Sergei snorted and answered, "Comrade Captain, during the siege of Leningrad we lived on vodka, moldy bread and rats..."
Oleg interrupted, "But mostly vodka. It was so damn cold it was all that kept us from freezing. Thank God the German bastards didn't have vodka or they might have taken Leningrad."
Sergei added, "Oleg you old liar, you know the women helped to keep us from freezing too."
Oleg laughed and agreed, "Yes comrades, those were the good days." Oleg took another big drink of the vodka, handed it to Sergei who took a big drink then I said, "Okay Oleg, let's get to work on the PTRD."
Oleg began to manipulate the PTRD with the finesse that only years of use and intimate knowledge of the rifle would bring. He dry fired it a couple times looked at me and suggested, "Comrade Captain, the trigger on this weapon is really terrible and I would love to fix it for you but I do not have my tools in the truck."
He handed the rifle to me, I dry fired it and agreed, "Yes the trigger is abysmal. How are you proposing we fix it?"
Oleg offered, "Comrade Captain, if you would come back to my house I could fix the trigger for you today and then we could come here tomorrow and I can teach you all about this beauty."
I knew the offer was not made lightly and I also knew to reject the offer to come to his house would be a huge insult. I carefully considered the offer and answered, "Oleg I would be honored to come to your house while you fix the trigger on the PTRD."
A huge smile crossed his face, he tried to stand at attention again and saluted me. I returned the salute and he began putting the PTRD back into the wooden crate. Sergei motioned to me. We took a few steps away from Oleg. When we were out of earshot Sergei looked down, shook his head and confided, "Comrade Captain, you do not understand the honor you have given my good friend - unfortunately he does not have much time left above ground."
Sergei looked at me, I could see the tears in his eyes for his friend so I asked, "What problem does he have?"
Oleg answered, "The cancer got him and there's nothing left the doctors can do. So he came back here to live out his remaining days in peace with his friends and family."
I understood the feeling and hoped that someday I would have friends and family to grow old and die with. I noticed Oleg was finished but he tried to lift the wooden crate and couldn't so I came over, and suggested, "Comrade, let me get that for you."
He moved over, I lifted the fucking wooden crate and slid it back into place. I picked my stove up off the ground because it was now cool, packed it away, closed up the back of my козел and suggested, "Perhaps Oleg, would like to drive my козел while we follow you Sergei."
Oleg questioned, "Comrade Captain, are you sure about this?"
I laughed and threatened, "Don't force me to make it an order."
I climbed into the passenger seat, stowed my AK in the gun rack as Oleg started my козел and we followed Sergei through the gate. I looked at the time, knew that Yuri would be done for the day so I pulled out my mobile phone and gave him a call...
Flashback – Major M – at his hotel
Hells Bells! That was the last thing I expected but I sure as hell hoped for something like this! The interview with Victoria started with her flirting the hell out of me and the next thing I knew the vodka came out, the clothes ended up on the floor and we ended up in bed. I was already tired from the trip and after our lovemaking session I was totally drained. There was a knock on the door so I started to get up and answer it but Victoria ordered, "Major, do not bother yourself. I will dismiss whomever is at the door."
She got out of bed while I ogled her beautiful body until she covered it with the blanket off the bed. She slinked to the door like a cat stalking its prey, turned to make sure I was watching her, let the blanket slip some to show me her lovely ass and giggled like a schoolgirl. She covered her assets again, walked the rest of the way to the door, answered it but I couldn't tell what she said. However, I could tell by the tone of her voice she was giving them hell.
She walked back toward the bed and I asked, "Who was that?"
She smiled at me and answered, "Major, that was another woman who wanted to be your translator but I made sure she knew I was already your only interpreter. You must be careful my Major because many women will be coming out of their crevices offering to be your translator." She dropped the blanket, sat on top of me and pretended to scold me. She lightly slapped my face as she said, "However Major, I am your only translator and I do not want you to forget that."
I was ready for another go at it but we just got going when there was another knock on the door. Victoria said something that I was certain was a swear word, jumped up from our bed, covered herself again with the blanket and went to the door. She opened it and then I heard a hell of an argument between Victoria and a man. I grabbed the sheet, covered myself, jumped up from the bed and dashed toward the door but it was already over. Victoria hauled my big bag into the room and I said, "Damn that bellhop found my bag, how much to I owe him?"
Victoria smiled at me and answered, "My Major, you are like a child in my Russia and are very naïve. The bellhop was the individual responsible for your bag being stolen; unfortunately it is a very common practice. I informed the man who took your bag and worked with the bellhop that if anything else of yours was taken I had a friend in the FSB who would look into the matter. Now you should ascertain that none of the contents were pilfered."
Jane
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