bling and blackening. We sat shoulder to shoulder, our
backs  to  the wall,  watching  the flames  in silence.  Soon,  our thoughts
drifted far away from reality and from everything that happened today.
     The  warmth  of the fire made us drowsy, and despite hunger and thirst,
we fell asleep. One more day in my life had ended; one more day of war...
     We did not sleep comfortably. The limbs became numb every now and then,
and I even got cramps in my leg. Then the fire almost died and I felt really
cold, so I  had to  stay half awake, keeping an eye on the  fire. We woke up
before the dawn and threw  the remaining firewood into the fire, then warmed
up doing some squats, jumping jacks and push-ups. We  finally warmed up, but
without hot meals and  vodka we would not hold out for long. The <i>dukhi</i> would
not let  us out, and  they will keep the reinforcements away.  But  we  also
would not let them out, no way!
     Meanwhile,  some  shooting began on  the square.  Carefully,  we looked
outside. A  large  formation  the size  of a regiment, was  trying to  break
through  into the palace. Judging by  their uniforms, they  were  a  mix  of
marines and internal ministry troops.
     The  <i>dukhi</i>  were  shooting from the  upper  floors.  Only  then  we had
realized the brutality  of what we had managed to fulfill by breaking across
the square earlier. Even in the morning  dusk  the whole  square was clearly
seen  from the palace. And the soldiers down there, who were trying to  find
cover behind  the broken armor and in ditches, were just perfect targets for
shooting practice.
     I heard  some explosions and small arms  fire back  in the corridor. We
rushed  out of the  office. On the second  stairway the soldiers were slowly
retreating  under the  attack of the militants  from above. So, the bastards
are trying to break out! Forget about it, you won't!
     There  was also shooting  on the  first  stairway now.  The d<i>ukhi</i>  were
desperately trying to break  out from the  trap. Next to me, Yuri launched a
grenade. I knew that he was  good in that -- a lot better than I am.  I just
lack imagination needed to  predict the trajectory of the round. And on many
occasions I was stunned by his ability  to  shoot a grenade from  some kinky
position.  It  would fly by  some unbelievable arc and  inevitably  hit  the
target. And he would always hit it with the very first shot. So now he  kept
shooting grenades, staying cool. But I knew  that his stony face concealed a
lot of excitement.
     The enemy also switched  to launching bombs and throwing hand grenades,
and that kept both sides well apart from each other. That  grenade duel went
on for a while.
     For a second, I thought it would be great if  we evacuated the building
and  just blew it up  with all the <i>dukhi</i> inside, but  the  brass, of course,
would not go for such radical solution. They need victorious press releases,
with snapshots  of the captured  Palace  on the cover of  some hot magazine.
Maybe, with a banner on top, the way it was on the Reichstag building in May
of 1945. They will rush more troops across the square now, and maybe a third
would not make it. They'd gather no less than a division  inside the Palace,
and most of them would die there.


     Comments:

     <i>dukhi</i> a nickname for the Chechen rebels

     <i>makhra</i> a nickname for the Russian infantry