Even though it was late October and the weather had turned brisk, the ground had not yet begun to freeze. The corpses decomposed slightly slower, but only slightly.
A putrid stench had already begun to drift through the air.
It was unlike any other foul odor—distinctive, nauseating, and utterly vile.
A light breeze swept past, and Gao Fei couldn't resist waving a hand in front of his face before covering his nose.
Their positions had been swapped. Gao Fei and his group were now about three to four hundred meters from their former communication trench.
A platoon from the penal battalion was holding the old trench, while Gao Fei and his squad had shifted roughly three hundred meters to the left of their previous position.
It was still the front line, but their circumstances were vastly different.
Over the past few days, the communication trench had taken artillery rounds and rifle fire daily, but Gao Fei's new position was eerily quiet.
The greatest benefit of the rotation, however, wasn't leaving the most hazardous sector—it was no longer being stuck with dozens of dead bodies.
In the past, there had always been cleanup details after a battle. They would send their own dead to the rear and bury enemy bodies on the spot. Even if a backhoe just hastily scooped out a pit, or they simply piled dirt over the corpses without digging at all, the dead were buried in the end.
Now, no one bothered.
Two days had passed. For the last three days, there had been only minor skirmishes—mostly both sides trading a few shots just to signal that someone was still holding the line. Nothing too intense.
When combat was light, someone should have been assigned to collect the dead, but no one did.
So while the penal battalion that took over Gao Fei's position got camouflage netting, they also inherited dozens of corpses to bury.
The bodies inside the trench were manageable. They could drag them off and bury them anywhere, or just bury them straight into the trench floor and dig a bypass alongside it. It was hard labor, but far better than living next to rotting corpses.
Yet the bodies scattered beyond the trench couldn't be retrieved.
Going out meant drawing fire. Anyone trying to retrieve a corpse would just end up becoming one themselves. Under such conditions, no one was willing to bury the enemy.
As a result, a sickening stench hung over the entire battlefield.
Gao Fei was farther away, so he only caught the stench when the wind blew toward them. But whenever he caught a whiff of it, he had to light a cigarette immediately to cut through the foul air.
He opened his cigarette pack. Only two were left.
After a moment's hesitation, Gao Fei pulled one out and lit it. Taking a deep drag, he yelled, "Samir!"
Samir darted over like a hare, his face lighting up with pleasant surprise. "You still have a stash?"
Samir took the cigarette, savoring a deep pull. No sooner had he exhaled than he eagerly took another drag.
In the blink of an eye, a third of the cigarette was gone.
"That's the last one! Really the last one! Give it here!"
Gao Fei snatched the cigarette back from Samir, took a long pull, and shouted, "Andrey!"
No answer.
Gao Fei had to shout at the top of his lungs, "Andrey!"
The moment Andrey spotted the glowing red cherry in Gao Fei's hand, he practically lunged forward. He dropped straight down at the entrance of the dugout, reached out, and grabbed the butt from Gao Fei. Inhaling deeply, he held the smoke in his mouth, reluctant to let it out.
Only when a fit of coughing overtook him did Andrey grumble indignantly, "Didn't you say you were out?"
"This really is the last one. Stop yelling, before you draw everyone else over. Give it back. One drag each, and take small puffs."
Gao Fei took the cigarette back, took a small puff, and handed it to Samir. Samir took a drag and passed the burning stub to Andrey, asking, "Still no word?"
Gao Fei shook his head helplessly.
Samir sighed. "Can Parker pull through or what? I don't even know what perks he was talking about. He could at least send us a few packs of smokes."
Andrey flicked the smoldering filter onto the ground and said loudly, "You think the war might be ending? Like, maybe they're calling it quits on Bakhmut and wrapping the whole thing up?"
It wasn't impossible.
Months of assaults had yielded little progress. Though Ukrainian casualties were heavy, the Russian side had suffered significant losses as well. A swift victory was out of the question, and grinding away in this war of attrition served little purpose.
Gao Fei looked at him with interest. "What makes you think the war is ending?"
"It's already late October, and it's getting colder by the day. Once winter hits, this war will be impossible to fight."
Andrey's English had improved rapidly. He tugged at his uniform. "We don't even have winter gear, and supplies aren't keeping up. That's not what an army looks like when it plans to fight indefinitely. I heard an instructor say that once supplies cut out, the war is basically over."
Samir dreaded the cold, but after a moment's hesitation, he shook his head. "No reinforcements, no supplies. They sent rations once in three days, but they delivered ammunition twice. The higher-ups don't care if our bellies are full, but they're terrified we won't have enough ammo to hold the line."
With that, Samir waved a hand dismissively, his expression grim. "I don't think it's going to end just like that."
Both made valid points.
Gao Fei had no idea how long this war would drag on either.
The three fell into silence. A moment later, Samir spoke up. "Lend me the phone. I want to try calling my friend."
Andrey said casually from the side, "It won't go through. Your friend is definitely already—"
Gao Fei glared at him, and Andrey quickly clamped his mouth shut.
It wasn't that Andrey lacked a brain; he was just obnoxious and had a foul mouth—the wretched habit of a street thug who loved getting under people's skin.
Samir took the phone and dialed his friend. Ever since they got the phone, he had called every day.
Yet the result remained the same: it wouldn't connect.
Samir handed the phone back to Gao Fei with a shake of his head.
Gao Fei considered calling his father, but thinking about it, he wouldn't know what to say anyway. Besides, he had already called twice since getting the phone, so he decided against saying anything today.
Andrey, on the other hand, had never placed a single call.
Gao Fei had never asked Andrey why he had been sent to prison, but as they had grown closer over the past few days, he couldn't help asking, "Andrey, aren't you going to call your family?"
"What family?"
Andrey shrugged indifferently. "My old man drank himself to death, and God knows where my mother ended up. I've been living on the streets since I was twelve. There's no one to call."
Samir looked at him. "No friends? Not even a girlfriend?"
"A girlfriend? Does someone you've slept with count, or not? I had one once. Pretty girl. But later she went to Britain to hustle. If I ever see her again, I wouldn't mind giving her some business."
For a moment, neither Gao Fei nor Samir knew how to respond.
Andrey continued in his nonchalant tone. "As for friends, I had a few, but they vanished the moment I got into trouble. I can't be bothered with them now anyway. So I've got no calls to make. No point."
Gao Fei hesitated, then finally asked, "Why did you go to prison?"
"Murder."
"Oh?"
Andrey sounded completely righteous. "My boss told me to take out a rival, so I went. I drove to the restaurant, walked in, and shot him dead. Two people—my boss's arch-rival and his wife. But I was caught on camera, so I got fifteen years."
Gao Fei stared in disbelief. "You killed two people and only got fifteen years?"
"Is fifteen years light? They never caught me for my previous jobs. For just one case, is fifteen years not enough?"
"Is fifteen years a lot?! You killed two people! Only fifteen years? Shouldn't you have faced a firing squad? Is Russian law really that lenient?"
Gao Fei and Andrey stared at each other, both convinced the other was out of his mind.
Samir chimed in from the side. "Russia doesn't have the death penalty."
Gao Fei threw up his hands, completely bewildered.
Andrey shook his head. "Fifteen years is a long time. Then again, I wouldn't have survived that long inside anyway. To be honest, doing fifteen years is worse than getting shot."
Gao Fei asked, puzzled, "Then why did you join the penal battalion and fight so hard to earn merits?"
"To get out early, find my boss, and slaughter his whole family."
"What?"
Andrey explained casually, "My boss told me to whack a guy, so I did. But he never mentioned the guy was a police chief. Then he told me to plead guilty, promising he'd bribe someone to get me a light sentence. Said I'd be out in two or three years tops, and that he'd pay me two million rubles a year. But after I confessed, he didn't pull any strings for me at all. Once I was inside, he didn't send me a single ruble. I couldn't even buy a cigarette in there."
With that, Andrey clapped his hands together. "So now I only have one goal. I need to get out and find that boss of mine to ask him what the hell he meant by that."
So Andrey had no aging mother waiting for him, no pretty girl, and no wife or kids to support.
It was pure vengeance. Simple enough, really.
Neither Gao Fei nor Samir offered any comment on that.
Eager to get back at Andrey for his earlier remark, Samir said coolly, "I don't think your chances of making it out alive are very high. Why do you think the company commander got you transferred with just one word? Why did the penal battalion let you go so easily? Because nobody expects you to survive. You think racking up enough merits will get you discharged? Don't be naive. We haven't even received our bounties yet. Fighting more battles won't do you any good."
Andrey didn't seem bothered in the slightest. "I know. But I'm still better off here than in the penal battalion, aren't I? At least I don't have to sit next to a pile of dead bodies that stink so bad you can barely keep your eyes open."
Andrey's contentment left Samir speechless.
Gao Fei waved a hand. "All right, that's enough pointlessness. Let me try calling Sokholov."
Sokholov's phone had never connected. His battery had died long ago, and without a place to charge it at the field hospital, an unreachable line was only natural.
"Still turned off."
"He isn't dead, is he?"
Andrey really did have an irritating way of talking. Gao Fei ignored him.
"We need to find a way to check on Sokholov. Let me see... maybe someone in the barrier troops could help look into it. I'll make a call and see."
Just as Gao Fei prepared to dial an acquaintance in the barrier troops, his phone rang first.
Startled, Gao Fei answered it. Parker's confident voice came through the line: "It's me. I'm coming to your position tonight. Something good is going down. Wait for me."
Chapter 82