The fourth story. Truth. Tablet. Betrayal.
My “Polite” investigator was back. The examination continued.
We, the Responsible Citizens, have already told that you should not lie during the war.
And I had no need to do this.
The “Polite” holds my tablet in his hands. He asks me who are my associates.
We have one common chat in Facebook. There are five people in it. Yevgeniy Shybalov, Dmitriy Shybalov, Olga Kosse, Enrike Menendes and me.
We are discussing our operational issues in this chat. Sometimes we are making fun, sometimes sincerely prank each other.
If you read our chat you can go crazy. We have our own slang and specific jokes.
For example, “Olya, where is your finger?”, – we ask her sometimes. Because, Olga Kosse’s phone is living its own life and, following its own desires, “likes” everything in chat whenever it wants.
The “Polite” asked me who are in the main team of “Responsible Citizens”. I immediately, without any doubt, named everyone from the chat.
I understand now, that it can seem strange, absurd and silly statement. I am talking about the betrayal. Certainly they have already known everything about us.
But I still think, what if I hadn’t named everyone, they wouldn’t have to go through all of this – seven-hours’ examination and deportation to the zero check-point, which is shoot from both sides.
But I did name them, you see?
On the one hand I had no options, because the “Polite” was holding my tablet in his hands.
On the other, (and you can start to laugh here, laugh out loud, do not hold yourself) I believed that “MGB” representatives will sort everything out, and there is no danger.
Than he asked me: do I know where they live?
I did not. This can be surprising but during all these two years we have being gathering at my apartment. I have never visited guys’ homes and had no idea about their addresses.
The “Polite” had told me that Enrike Menendes have already written in Facebook that all the “Responsible citizens” had left the territory and abandoned me here.
Of course, I didn’t believe it even for a moment. I just knew that that was impossible.
P: Maryna Anatolyevna, Your colleagues are not in Donetsk already.
Me: No, they are in Donetsk. I am sure about this.
P: They have left yesterday. Enrike Menendes wrote about this.
Me: Have you personally read it?
P: stays silent
Me: Let’s check it? Give me my phone and I’ll call them. Just tell me what do You want from them? They are all young and I don’t want your people to frighten them.
P: We will just talk to them. Nothing will happen. Don’t worry.
Me: Ok. Give me my phone.
P: But, please, be specific, at a word. One call. “I am at MGB office. Could you all please come here and talk about Responsible citizens’ activities”.
The “Polite” had given my phone to me and I called Yevgeniy Shybalov.
I think, that Yevgeniy Shybalov should describe our relationships from his side, and tell, why he is the first one whom I call in any situation.
I am speaking with Yevgeniy through the loudspeaker.
Me: Hi Zhenya.
Y.S.: Hi, Mother.
Me: Zhenya, where are you all now?
Y.S.: Mother, we are all on routs now, did something happened? (For you to understand – this is Yevgeniy Shybalov. The sky can fall on earth, there can be flood or tsunami, but Zhenya will go working in the very hell, to bring medicines and assistance).
Me: Can you call everyone and ask to come to MGB?
Y.S.: Yes, mother, will be right there, name the address?
Zhenya’s voice was calm, the man is working. I was even ashamed that everybody works and I am just sitting here.
The “Polite” tells me address, I tell it to Zhenya and put the phone down.
Then I ask “Polite” one more time not to frighten the guys and allow them to see me because it would be important for them. Important to see me.
He answer me that yes, of course, he will. That all this will end up very soon and everything will be fine. He calls somebody on the phone, goes away and asks me to come with him.
I am led through the corridors and brought to the room. I sit down on the chair and wait.
I have been waiting for rather long time. Some people had entered the room. Asked whether it was true that I have occupied the position of deputy governor of the region. Studied me (unceremoniously stared – this would be more specific), smiled and went away.
Then two men entered the room. I haven’t seen them before. They told me to follow them. We have entered the street and I was taken to the “Mitsubishi Pajero”. Very roughly I was told to lean the head below my knees and we drove away.
I was back to the basement. I have entered the cage. Lay down the dirty matrass. Turned to the wall.
The time had stopped. Thoughts. Everything stopped.
I have totally faced the truth. I was lied for the third time.
Lie as a thick and sticky liquid, and I am just in it.
I can’t get out of it.
I am not able to work in such a format.
I just don’t know how to work in such a way.
Do you know how to work in a lie?
That’s why I have also left any hopes for the best outcome.
Why had I left any hope?.
The answer was given by Pyotr Chaadayev long ago.
“Nothing drains, nothing promotes cowardice as much, as the insane hope” (literal translation) – those were his words.