Soviet Union 1991

Makarov stood at the airport. A black car stopped in front of him. The door had been opened, but he had not yet sat in it.

Surrounded by heavy Apocalypse tanks, Ukraine has worked hard for the Belarusian Defense Minister. Then a truck came towards the tarmac. Soldiers grabbed former Ukrainian President Poroshenko by his collar, threw him to the ground, and kicked him in the face.

Makarov half-crouched, smiled and said to him, "Welcome to hell, my comrade."

Poroshenko, whose face was beaten with blood, was dragged into the car like a dog. Makarov sat next to him, and a soldier holding an Uzi submachine gun was watching him in the passenger seat. Soon the car started. Poroshenko didn't know where these people were transporting him, but an unknown premonition lingered in his heart and could not be calmed down for a long time.

Armed soldiers can be seen patrolling along the way. They are orderly enforcing martial law on the streets and alleys of the capital Grozny. Some Ukrainians who tried to resist were arrested, held at gunpoint in the back by soldiers, and lined up in a corner.

They are surrounded by terrifying robots with sharp steel claws, and armored magnetic blast infantry, guarding the entire street.

There are still some black gray marks on the ground, and you can barely distinguish the appearance of a person. Who knows what this group of people did.

The car turned left and entered a wider road. There were gunshots here, and the giant Apocalypse tank that came from nowhere broke through the wall and advanced towards the conflict area with thick smoke and explosions. Poroshenko knew that this was a firefight between right-wing extremist organizations in Western Europe and the Soviet army.

Crushing without any doubt, the Soviet army's powerful military superiority directly crushed the militants of the extremist organization into bloody pieces of flesh.

"Notice from the front that there is a firefight ahead. Sir, we have to take another road." The soldier on the co-pilot said to Makarov.

Makarov nodded. So far, he didn't care what kind of trouble Kiev's militia could cause. All NATO troops had withdrawn here, and they were alone and helpless.

The corpse of the capitalist was hung from the telephone pole, swaying in the wind.

Turning the steering wheel to the right and driving the car into a narrow alley, Poroshenko finally couldn't bear it anymore and asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"Go to a place you should go." Makarov looked at Poroshenko with a ferocious smile. He turned his head and looked ahead again. He was not worried about whether Poroshenko would escape. The communist army had completely taken over this place. nation. Under strict militarized management, any resistance by Ukrainians will be regarded as war.

Moscow is even ready to leave no one behind.

After a night of guerrilla warfare, the members of the Nazi right-wing organization wearing the swastika were finally caught by the Red Army, carried to the corner and lined up in a row. They raised their guns expressionlessly and fired wildly at these armed men. For a moment, they felt like they were being harvested. They fell down in pieces like pieces of wheat and fell into a pool of blood.

They had only one thought in their minds, sending these Nazis to hell.

At this time, loudspeaker broadcasts everywhere attracted Poroshenko's attention.

"Today we gather together to work hard for the future of Ukraine and the communist movement." The words on the radio were full of fanaticism and agitation, and the surrounding Red Army soldiers cheered in unison, as if to welcome their great leader. Same.

They always firmly believe that liberating the world requires the old era to pay its due price.

"We have been oppressed by capitalists and oligarchs. They force our people to obey him, create value for him, and pay a pitiful salary as compensation. What is the final result? The money of the rich gathers like a pyramid. rise up, while the poor can only live miserable lives in the slums Days. But today, we are back. This is a great return, a return to truly find our destination in the soul. Today, everyone stands up with me and fights for our liberation. Pick up your guns and go to the old times. Fight! Fight against the poverty they impose on us!”

"Long live the proletariat!"

The tide of cheers drowned Poroshenko's ears, and he looked pale as if he had foreseen what would happen next. The car drove to the central square of Kiev, where angry citizens and troops under martial law gathered, as if waiting for him to appear.

The car stopped, the door was opened, a pair of strong hands roughly grabbed Poroshenko's collar, and then dragged him out of the car. He grabbed Poroshenko like an animal and held him on the ground while people around him started firing shots into the air, turning it into a Kalashnikov carnival.

Makarov walked up to Poroshenko and helped him up. His eyes were cold, like a poisonous snake sizing up its prey. Two soldiers beside him grabbed Poroshenko's arms and pushed him to the middle of the central square. The cameras have already been set up, waiting for the final protagonist, Ukrainian President Poroshenko, to appear.

Makarov spread his arms and shouted to the crowd around him, "Today, let us fire the first shot to declare war on capitalism. This man is a capitalist lackey who oppresses the people. The wealth accumulated in his hands is even worth The total income of a country in a year, today is the end of it, and it is also the end of capitalism. We will completely eliminate the capitalist system in Europe and usher in a communist world!”

Poroshenko wanted to beg for mercy, but fear lay in his throat and he could not swallow.

Makarov holds a large-caliber Desert Eagle pistol in his hand, ready to declare their decisive killing to the Western world in the most bloody way.

Finally, he walked up to Poroshenko, opened the safety cover and pointed it at his forehead.

"Any last words?" Makarov asked.

"Of course." Poroshenko sneered and cursed word by word to the Red Army soldiers and tall and sturdy political commissars who were surrounded by eyes full of hatred, "Don't be complacent, the forces of socialism will be severely punished. Punishment and attack. My death is just the beginning, and you will pay a heavy price. The NATO army will kill you all, leaving no one behind!"

"Is there anything else you want to say?"

"there is none left."

Snap.

There was a loud bang, and the bullet left a clearly visible bullet hole in Poroshenko's forehead and penetrated the back of his head. Makarov turned around and said to the crowd behind him, "Poroshenko is the first, but definitely not the last. Our revenge has just begun!"

"Long live the Soviets!"