His face had no trace of blood left on it, but the blood splattered onto his clothes couldn't be wiped away.
Just like Gao Fei's life. Today he had just killed two men, and all his documents were lost. If they had fallen into the hands of those bad people, it might have been okay, because those bad people would likely dispose of the bodies and hush the whole thing up, in which case Gao Fei might actually have been fine.
The real trouble would be if the documents fell into the police's hands. The police might put out a warrant for him outright, and that would completely cut off his road back home.
So many things, once done, can't be undone. Osokayev was a decent enough man, and he had told Gao Fei not to be nervous, but Gao Fei couldn't possibly just pretend nothing had happened.
Yet being nervous was useless. He'd take things one step at a time.
Gao Fei walked out of the restroom. At the door, a soldier in camouflage with a slung rifle tilted his head, signaling Gao Fei to go ahead.
The necessary precautions couldn't be skipped; someone had to keep an eye on him so he didn't run off.
"Do you speak English?"
Gao Fei asked. The soldier shook his head — it was unclear whether he didn't speak English or just couldn't be bothered to answer.
Gao Fei said cautiously, "Can I make a phone call?"
This time the soldier didn't shake his head, but said impatiently, "Don't dream of it. There's no way they'll let you make a call here. Wait until you get to the frontline, then look for your chance."
The soldier could speak English. His attitude wasn't exactly good, but at least he had given Gao Fei a clear direction.
The rest room was soon reached. The so-called rest room was just a larger room with two rows of folding chairs, and two fully armed soldiers stood guard at the door.
The soldier escorting Gao Fei muttered a few words quietly to one of the guards, and that soldier gave Gao Fei a somewhat surprised look. So although Gao Fei couldn't understand what was said, from the two men's expressions he could tell they were talking about him.
The soldier who had brought Gao Fei left, and the one sitting by the door said to him, "Sit down. No moving around, no talking."
There were already three new recruits in the rest room. All three were sitting in the first row, but Gao Fei didn't want to talk to anyone, so he walked to the edge of the back row and sat down.
Anxious, restless, unable to sit still — right now Gao Fei felt worry and confusion, the one thing he didn't feel was regret.
Even if it meant his own death, he'd had to kill Hou Yanguo first, and that goal had been achieved, so there was nothing for Gao Fei to agonize over now. On top of that, he had sat through a dozen-plus hours of flying and had just come through a desperate, deadly chase — right now he really was exhausted.
So Gao Fei simply closed his eyes, and before two minutes had passed, his head tilted slightly to one side, and then a soft snoring began.
Gao Fei was the first to rush into this recruitment office, and also the first to fall asleep in the rest room.
The snoring was quite jarring in the quiet room. The two soldiers at the door looked at Gao Fei, and then one of them tilted his head toward his companion and said quietly, "This guy just killed two men."
"Oh?"
"And the one he killed was one of Kasosky's underbosses. The police chased him right into our recruitment office. The cops told Osokayev not to get involved, but Osokayev kept him and told the cops to get lost."
"Oh?!"
"Osokayev said to treat him well."
"Uh, hmm, hss... don't disturb him. Let him sleep."
Sleeping itself was nothing strange, but being able to fall asleep so quickly in this kind of place — especially in this kind of situation — was rather remarkable.
The posture wasn't comfortable, but Gao Fei slept a long time. He woke a few times in between, but he never opened his eyes; he just adjusted his position and immediately fell asleep again.
Young people just sleep well. In the end, though, Gao Fei didn't get to wake up on his own — he was woken with a pat.
A hand patted his shoulder. Gao Fei opened his eyes, instinctively wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, and looked with bleary, sleepy eyes at the soldier who had woken him.
The soldier said mildly, "No more sleeping. The vehicle's here. Let's go."
At some point the room had filled with many more people, and right now everyone was watching him, their looks rather strange.
Nothing to say — he just followed the others.
Judging by the light outside, it was still early, no later than noon. He boarded a bus. Two fully armed soldiers were on board as escorts, and there were only about a dozen new recruits. Gao Fei didn't bother counting them; his head was still a bit foggy, and he couldn't be bothered to use his brain.
The bus seats were much more comfortable than the folding chairs, and Gao Fei hadn't slept enough, so within two minutes of boarding the bus he had drifted off again.
This time he didn't wake at all along the way, until the escorting soldier woke him once more.
Truth be told, Gao Fei felt the Wagner veterans were quite amiable and pretty high-caliber — not the ferocious, menacing types he'd seen online. Pretty decent, actually.
As for the place they arrived at, it didn't look like a military barracks so much as a factory. The yard was quite large, the buildings looked like factory workshops, and all the new recruits were led into a hall that resembled an auditorium.
There were several dozen people in the hall, split into four lines queuing up to register.
One table had no one in front of it. The person sitting behind it shouted in English, "Foreigners, register here! Foreigners, over here!"
Gao Fei walked over and stood in front of the table. Before he could speak, the staff member said directly, "Do you speak Russian?"
"No."
"Can you communicate normally in English?"
"Yes."
"Give me your registration card."
Gao Fei fished his registration card out of his pocket and placed it on the table. The person handling registration sat facing a computer, and after a glance at Gao Fei's card he said directly, "Name, Rex. Is that the only name you're registering?"
Rex was the name Gao Fei had registered — it had no meaning at all; his English teacher had simply given it to him offhand when he was learning English.
"Yes, just register that name."
"Age."
"26."
"Height."
"183 centimeters."
"Weight."
"82 kilograms."
"Blood type."
"B."
Gao Fei answered without the slightest hesitation, and the registrar, just as unhesitatingly, said, "Good. If there are no problems, we'll make your ID tag based on this."
He pressed the Enter key, and the registrar continued, "Do you have a criminal record?"
"No."
"Your card shows you have service experience. So do you have any specialty?"
"No specialty."
"We have two contract terms to choose from: six months and twelve months. The base pay for six months is one thousand euros; for twelve months it's one thousand four hundred euros. Which do you choose?"
Gao Fei said without hesitation, "Six months."
"Alright, six months."
The registrar finished the entry. After tapping once more on the computer, he said to Gao Fei, "You can register a bank account. If you're killed in action, there's a death benefit of one million rubles, and we'll deposit it into this account."
Gao Fei was taken aback for a moment, then said, "Can it be a Chinese bank account?"
"No. For now it can only be a Russian bank account."
"Can I open a bank card right now?"
"You can't do it here. You can register your account later, when you have the chance, to receive the benefit. Or you can register a comrade's account to collect it on your behalf."
Gao Fei said without hesitation, "Then I won't register one for now."
First of all, Gao Fei had no comrades. And even if he did, he would never register someone else's bank account.
To have the death benefit paid into another man's account — wasn't that testing human nature? He could very well end up shot in the back.
"Alright. Take your soldier card. It has your unique identification code on it. Remember, salary and death benefits are paid out solely according to this identification code. Go over here to collect your uniform and equipment. Next."
The registration was very simple, with no identity-verification step at all — so simple it was outrageous.
The registrar handed Gao Fei a plastic card, the most common kind of membership card back home, with a name printed on it and a numeric code in the bottom-right corner.
106953. That number was fine — at least it didn't have a 4 in it.
He had just received the card when someone beside him tossed over two name tags strung on a chain.
As the data went into the computer here, a laser engraving machine beside it stamped out the name tags.
The so-called name tags were just two small metal plates engraved with the name, blood type, and so on — commonly known as dog tags.
Holding the card, Gao Fei grabbed his own dog tags and walked forward along the passage beside the registrar.
After registration came collecting the uniform. Gao Fei stood in front of a long table where two soldiers were slapping his clothes onto the table.
A backpack, a softshell camouflage uniform, a pair of pants, a green short-sleeved T-shirt, three army-green pairs of underwear, three pairs of socks, a pair of military boots, a hat, a belt, and a Wagner Group signature skull armband. All of it was laid out on the table, and then one of the soldiers, muttering under his breath, did a quick count and swept everything into one of the large plastic bins stacked beside the table.
The whole outfit must have cost several thousand yuan. The old Gao Fei really couldn't have brought himself to buy it.
"Go up front to change. Put your old clothes in the bin. You must hand in your phone and all communication devices. Other valuables you may keep. Next."
Gao Fei picked up the large bin and took two steps forward. He was still looking for a place to change when he noticed that the soldiers who had finished registering were already changing their clothes.
At this point the new recruits and the veterans parted ways. The new recruits didn't change clothes; after finishing registration, they were gathered together and would be sent off somewhere unknown.
The veterans changed right there — there was no changing room; they simply stripped naked in plain view and changed on the spot.
Gao Fei didn't have anything valuable on him anyway, and besides, he'd been robbed clean, not even left his documents, so there was nothing to keep.
Piece by piece he put on the unfamiliar uniform, put on the dog tags. The boots were a bit big, but it's better for military boots to run a size large.
Once in the new clothes, he tossed the old ones into the bin, and holding an empty backpack, he went to stand among the crowd who had finished changing and were waiting.
There was no formation, but Gao Fei, now in uniform, unconsciously squared his chest and lifted his head, standing there with a very proper posture.
Though he wore a Russian soldier's clothes, he was posing as a Chinese veteran, so Gao Fei absolutely could not disgrace the Chinese veterans. Unconsciously, his every movement — walking, standing, sitting, lying — became proper and upright.
He had never been a soldier, but he'd been through military training twice, and Gao Fei really did know things like standing at attention, standing at ease, and marching in step. He could even fold a quilt into a crisp square block. So when he stood at attention, he actually looked the part somewhat.
Just like collecting the uniform, when Gao Fei reached the table, a plastic bag was tossed in front of him.
There was quite a lot in the clear plastic bag. He could make out two packs of cigarettes and some compressed biscuits; below those there seemed to be a toothbrush, and then some other things — he wouldn't know exactly what until he opened it.
It was fairly complete. Without opening it to check, Gao Fei put the plastic bag into his backpack and continued forward with the line.
The next items had to be collected by entering a room. The entrance and exit were separate — he saw people go in but never saw them come out, so he couldn't tell what exactly they were collecting, but Gao Fei guessed it was weapons.
Ten at a time entered the room. Ten tables held weapons, all identical: one AK74, one magazine loaded on the rifle, three spare magazines, four grenades — two RGO defensive and two RGN offensive — and a bayonet.
Besides the weapons, the table also held a chest rig, a canteen, and a helmet.
A middle-aged man in uniform shouted something, and after he finished, someone beside him said in English, "Now count and check, then collect your weapons and equipment."
Gao Fei understood — this was a simple verification done under the guise of collecting weapons.
You could tell a great deal from how a man handled this gear, but surely no one would be foolish enough to pose as a veteran.
Just as Gao Fei was thinking this, he noticed a man who didn't look so young either grab a rifle in one motion.
That's not right, is it?
Although he wasn't especially clear on the Russian army's procedure, Gao Fei remembered that when you arm yourself, the first thing you do is definitely not grab the gun.
Feeling uncertain, Gao Fei moved a bit more slowly, but even though he wasn't sure, he decisively reached for the chest rig first.
At least Gao Fei had watched online how a soldier went from empty-handed to fully equipped.
He put the chest rig on first. It was Gao Fei's first time handling one of these things, so his movements were a bit slow, but though slow, they were methodical. The middle-aged man who had grabbed the gun first was different — his movements looked panicked.
You've got to be kidding? Surely no one is really foolish enough to pose as a veteran?
After seeing what the others were doing, the middle-aged man quickly put the rifle back on the table, but even after picking up the chest rig, he still had to watch what the others did before he knew what came next.
At this point there was no need to watch any further — the man was undoubtedly faking being a veteran. And the people present seemed long accustomed to such situations: without waiting for the officer's order, a soldier beside him struck him from behind with a rifle butt.
The rifle butt smashed into his back, followed by a sharp rebuke and a stream of curses. Gao Fei didn't understand what was said, except for one phrase — "suka blyat."
Gao Fei's heart really did skip in panic, because he too was one of the fools posing as a veteran.
Rich in theory but zero in practice — talk a good game, but at a loss when it comes to actually doing it. That was the norm for military buffs.
Now the gear lay in front of Gao Fei, and though he knew what everything was and knew where it all should go, knowing was one thing — his hands were still slow.
When real veterans got their gear sorted, they finished without even thinking about it. Even if it hadn't reached the level of true muscle memory, their speed was far faster than Gao Fei's.
The examiner issuing the gear — who was also there to verify — was now staring fixedly at Gao Fei, as if he had noticed something off.
Gao Fei put the chest rig on at an unhurried pace, placed the grenades in their dedicated grenade pouches, and slotted the three empty magazines into the magazine pouches. The bayonet didn't go on the belt — it too was hung on the chest rig. That could be adjusted later to his preferred position, but for now he certainly had to follow the standard procedure.
Although Gao Fei was slow, and his movements looked somewhat rusty, it was only rusty, not entirely unfamiliar — more like the feeling of needing to recall and re-familiarize himself with things after not handling them for a long time.
The examiner was a little uncertain, and since he no longer needed to watch the others, he simply walked up to Gao Fei and stared fixedly at him, using it to apply psychological pressure.
Gao Fei was nervous inside, and he tried hard to look normal.
The last step was checking the rifle. And now, Gao Fei was truly touching a gun for the first time.
Luckily, Gao Fei clearly knew the entire procedure for checking a rifle. Though his heart stirred a little with excitement when he picked up the gun, Gao Fei wasn't flustered at all, because he had watched this step countless times — his hands were clumsy, but his mind knew it thoroughly.
First he removed the magazine and glanced to see that it was empty, then he worked the bolt and checked the chamber, finding a single blank round loaded inside. At that, Gao Fei understood this really was just a simple check — and he was fairly sure he'd pass.
Of the original ten, nine remained; the one who'd been caught faking had already been hauled off. The other eight had long since finished all their steps. Gao Fei was slow, but he completed the entire rifle-check procedure step by step, by the book, so his slowness could at least count as steadiness.
If the examiner asked, Gao Fei would say he was Chinese and had never handled an AK74 before — that reason should hold up.
But the examiner didn't ask anything. After Gao Fei, the last one, finished checking his weapon, the examiner said directly, "Pick up your weapons and equipment. You can go eat now."
All right — the first checkpoint, and the hardest one, was passed.
From here on it was learn by doing, do while learning. Anyway, being afraid was useless; he'd just get on with it.
Chapter 3