In a cozy Russian-style family restaurant, Ivankov and Yuri, sitting at a small table in the corner, are enjoying their dinner.
I saw Ivankov's front dinner plate listed, several Russian hard dishes placed in front of him, it is not easy to eat authentic hometown dishes in a foreign country, plus there are authentic vodka Xiangzuo, Ivankov is sweating profusely and addicted.
Opposite him, Yuri, who was in a wheelchair, only had an oatmeal porridge and a plate of pickled cucumbers in front of him, while Yuri was playing with the spoon in his hand and looked at Ivankov with some dissatisfaction.
"Eat, the old brother doctor said you can only eat this now" Ivankov teased as he picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, burping full.
Yuri looked at Ivankov's smug face, and could only eat the oatmeal in front of him angrily.
At the moment, there are no other customers in this restaurant except for the two of them, and it is already past the dinner of the evening, the reason why the two of them appear in this restaurant at this time is not just to eat authentic hometown food, in fact, there is another important thing for them to do.
About two weeks ago, Ivankov fled Atlantic City with Yuri and took refuge in Brighton, a Russian-American neighborhood in New York.
It is the largest Russian-speaking community on the East Coast, and many Russians who have just arrived in the United States will consider it as their first place of residence on American soil.
However, the fly in the ointment is that most of the people who settled here were intellectuals, most of them were people who held different positions from the Soviet Union, and some elites who did not agree with their ideas.
And the sages Ivankov longed for who were good at robbing homes and houses, killing people and setting fires were simply rare here.
But there are always exceptions, and the restaurant's owner, Lavrev, is the kind of person Ivankov admires.
It's a pity that Lavrev can be regarded as a small achievement, and it is not something that Ivankov can recruit.
Although on the surface Lavrev is the owner of a small restaurant, a middle-class who does not go up or down.
However, Ivankov felt at first glance that this guy was not simple, and those who came out to mix always found their own kind.
After several successive visits by Ivankov, the two let down their guard against each other and gradually became acquainted.
As Ivankov had noticed, there were always a few great people in the Brighton neighborhood to make the Russians a peaceful place in the mixed Brooklyn district.
Lavref is one of them, and he is actually the biggest smuggler here, helping Russians who want to come to the United States to make a living and settle in the country.
And today it just so happens that a ship is about to dock, and according to Lavrev, this group of people came from the brutal Afghan battlefield, and for various reasons broke away from their own team and smuggled here.
Not only did they meet Ivankov's requirements, but they also happened to lack a job to live in.
After dinner, Ivankov and Yuri chatted for a while, and soon someone came to pick them up.
A bearded man in a jacket led the two to the back door of the restaurant, where a van was waiting.
Ivankov pushed Yuri into the car, got into it himself, and the car quickly departed.
The truck is closed all around, but the ventilation system is working, so I don't feel bored, and of course I can't see the scenery outside, which is what the other party cares about very much.
The car drove for almost an hour before it stopped, and where Ivankov and Yuri got out of the car, they couldn't see their fingers.
Fortunately, the guide was able to see the road under his feet with a flashlight in front of him.
It is surrounded by woods, and only a dirt road leads to it.
The place where the flashlight's beam shines looks like a somewhat dilapidated forest house.
In the darkness, you can see the fire flickering and flickering, and it seems that someone is smoking a cigarette here.
"Ivankov" A tall middle-aged man leaned against a pillar on the porch of the house and greeted Ivankov, who was none other than Lavrev.
I saw Lavrev enthusiastically coming over, hugging Ivankov and Yuri respectively, and kissing each other's cheeks.
Everyone exchanged pleasantries for a while, and then went straight to the point.
"Most of the people on this boat tonight are veterans from Afghanistan, and I think it's very good for your needs, so I'll leave them all for the time being to see if there's a good fit, and give them a job," Lavrev said.
Ivankov left Yuri outside and walked into the room alone with Lavrev.
When Ivankov pushed open the door and entered the basement of the house, the newcomers, whom Lavref called cargo, were leisurely playing poker and drinking to celebrate their arrival in the United States.
"Well, gentlemen, I need to hire a few helpers, the pay is good, I don't know if you dare to be interested" As soon as Ivankov's words fell, the originally noisy basement quickly fell silent.
"First of all, I like people who have been in the army, and those who are eligible please stand up," Ivankov said.
Soon, most of the people in the room stood up, and their eyes were full of eagerness, hoping that they would be picked by Ivankov to get the job.
"Very good, everyone's reaction is very fast, and it can be seen that they have indeed mixed with the army, but I have another request, that is, I must kill people, and I must do it myself, please continue to maintain the current posture if you meet the requirements, and if you don't meet the requirements, please sit down immediately," Ivankov said again.
This time, more than a dozen people sat down, and only five or six people were still standing here.
Ivankov nodded, walked up to them and asked them: "What are you all doing in the army" "I'm a commando of an Army Aviation Regiment" "Driver of armored vehicles" "Sniper" "Commander of the gun of an armored car" "Army Aviation Regiment Mechanic" "Army Aviation Regiment Helicopter Pilot" Everyone told them about their positions in the army in turn, Ivankov nodded intently, and then he called them out again and talked to them in turn.
All the people in the basement looked at them with envy.
Ivankov took out a roll of bills and said to Lavref: "Give the money to the guy I didn't choose, it's a little gift for me."
The banknotes were divided into about two hundred dollars each, and the six guys were taken aback, but they didn't expect Ivankov to be so generous, and they all began to look forward to Ivankov's further investigation.
They were taken outside, in front of Yuri.
Yuri asked a little about the situation of these six people, and nodded at Ivankov, which was considered to be left.
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Yuri said loudly: "It's nice to meet you, but it's important to state in advance that what we're doing is a bit special, and if you don't want to join, it's better to bring it up now."
Half an hour passed, and no one left. t1706231537: