Super agent "James" Zadnikov.
08/17/2119 Evening
RBSF territory. Village.
Zadnikov approached one of the two screens glowing in the semi-darkness. The monitor showed a general view of the entire facility. Now, in a simple village house, one of many where the network was based, a real field command and reconnaissance point was set up.
A low-profile drone, disguised as a bird, circled two kilometers above the surveillance facility. The two operators were in a relaxed state - the sortie was just a training exercise, one in a series of those constantly arranged by Zadnikov.
Today, two militants, sitting in the greenery in the immediate vicinity of the facility, were watching "Kom.batt" and his gang.
The highlight of today's gathering was that this was the time when the SFS men arranged their costumed gathering. In the old pre-war times, such communities and movements of reenactors of previous wars and historical events had a certain popularity.
Now, of course, this was also not prohibited and was not condemned, but the activity of adherents of such a hobby, like many other entertainments, for obvious reasons has significantly decreased all over the world.
As for the SFS, the local bigwigs were engaged in this even when "Kom.batt" did not lead the RBSF, even under Bolotnyagin, the very first "Secretary-Chairman".
For their sabbaths, "Kom.batt" and his henchmen dressed up in the uniforms of Stalin's army and the infamous NKVD. Unlike classic reenactors, these did not arrange any battles, but without unnecessary movements went to "positions" prepared for them in advance, where they drank in a historical setting. The setting was dugouts, a network of trenches and all that.
There were also girls of easy virtue, brought in on a huge bus, also dressed up in the spirit of the historical period. Everything was in the style of that time, but of course much neater, sleeker. The bathhouse, built right there, was shining brightly in the infrared spectrum with its chimney.
Zadnikov ordered to increase the resolution. The optics on the drone were just right.
"Kom.batt", dressed in the uniform of an early Stalinist officer, a red commander, was sitting at the table and smoking something, maybe an authentic cigarette.
Before that, he had been pouring from a huge, two-liter bottle without any label. Next to "Kom.batt" sat the chief customs officer of the SFS, wearing a leather jacket and a leather cap, from under which a thin, nasty mustache stuck out. This is how movie murderers from films about those harsh times often looked. This is what a stereotypical cartoon faggot from the last century could look like.
Zadnikov glanced at the second screen - there was publicly available tactical data from the interlink, that is, layers with a regular map and weather data. Another layer displayed the location of the fighters hiding in the greenery, who had highly sensitive microphones and ejectable listening devices.
- Give me some sound, - Zadnikov commanded.
The audio channel came to life.
- You know what they say, Comrade Kom.batt? - came from the speaker. - This is called the gyroscope principle.
The voice sounded obsequious.
What does a gyroscope have to do with it? - the drunken voice of "Kom.batt" responded with good-natured bewilderment.
- Well, how so? - answered the triumphant sycophant. - It's like a gyroscope in a rocket or an airplane. A control body. And in this case - "where the stick in the pants, there the legs go." There was a cackle of approval. "Kom.batt" was also laughing. The troop of baboons laughed with a sense of joy from the fact that the leader was having fun.
Oh Ma-a-an! - the Russian-speaking operator sitting in front of the monitor drawled. - Humor... Level...
- Dad ordered to check how his son is doing, - answered the second operator, who had headphones on his head the whole time and who was listening to the conversations non-stop.
The mother of the family, with whom "Kom.batt" was divorced, had lived in Russia until recently - at that time Vaska was still studying in his "page corps", as the institution was called when for some reason they wanted to express disdain.
Then, when "Kom.batt"'s career took off, "Mrs. Kom.batt" wisely moved to Europe, from where she could now only show concern for her son online and by phone.
The current costumed drinking party had been going on for the second day already. The reason for the beginning was a military holiday, which was called the Day of Military Valor. Now it was impossible to count on anything worthwhile being heard - so the work being carried out made sense only as a training exercise - people had to be constantly kept in good shape. The day before, the conversations of the SFS leader and the CSCE man who took part in the initial stage of the drinking party, Zaperdyaev, as Zadnikov nicknamed him, were recorded. This Zaperdyaev, or rather Zavirdyaev, in addition to empty chatter, discussed with the "Kom.batt" the details of the plan to increase the recruitment of newcomers, mainly to the Foreign Corps.
Most likely, those who gave Zaperdyaev the order for such negotiations and those who supported the activities of his, Zadnikov's, network were the same, if not the same people, then the same group, so there was no story of a successful and effective intelligence mission here either. Just everyday routine. What was to come in the coming days was much more interesting.