Steel Soviet Union

Chapter 283 Discharge

Looking at the group of smiling doctors and nurses surrounding his hospital bed, Malashenko, who had no time consciousness at all because he had been unconscious for an unknown length of time, immediately asked.

"I have a question, comrades, how long have I been unconscious since I arrived in Moscow? I can't remember what happened."

Dean Vadubov, who looked at Malashenko's confused expression as he looked at his hands and smiled calmly in relief, then smiled softly at Malashenko.

"You have been in a coma for 18 days since you arrived in Moscow, Comrade Malashenko. If you don't wake up by now, we will almost think that the treatment plan has completely failed."

18 days! I was actually in a coma for 18 days!

After hearing what Dean Vadubov said, his jaw almost dropped. Malashenko couldn't believe that 18 days had passed since he slept.

"I was in a coma for 18 days but I didn't say anything but I still woke up. Is this because I am lucky or because that guy Malashenko quietly did something I don't know."

Thinking of this, he thought of the "last side" of Malashenko he had seen in the void world before, and instantly recalled that crucial name. Malashenko couldn't help but lost his sight and fell into thoughts of memories. .

"Is that Natalia? Maybe it's time to go meet her."

In the next half day, after "hospital expert consultation", Malashenko was diagnosed as making a full recovery. After taking quinine, a drug with serious side effects, almost none of the discomforts that would appear in ordinary people, such as vomiting, dizziness, or even coma, were found in Malashenko, who has regained his life. Rashenko is considered a miracle even by Dean Vadubov, who has many years of clinical experience.

With his body fully recovered, Malashenko, who had originally planned to prepare early to return to the front line, unexpectedly received a forced leave order.

"Dean Vadubov told me that there is no guarantee that there will be no abnormality in your body, and it will take a week to half a month to continue your recovery and observation."

"During this period, you will stay in Moscow for a short period of training. If you want, you can go home to visit your relatives. I heard that your home is in a small village outside Moscow. When you return to your hometown, let me It might be a good choice for everyone to see our Red Army tank heroes with your own eyes.”

The brief handwritten order was immediately followed by the signature of the flamboyant writer, but this familiar but extremely unfamiliar name seemed so abrupt to Malashenko at the moment.

"Josef Vissarionovich Stalin never thought that I would be forced to take a leave by my loving comrade. Maybe I should keep this order well, I always thought it might be of some use."

Malashenko, who shook his head slowly and smiled self-deprecatingly, immediately carefully collected the order written by Comrade Stalin and kept it in a safe place.

Malashenko, who was urgently airlifted from Leningrad to Moscow for rescue, brought almost no luggage. Even the dirty tank soldier combat uniform and fire-proof suit he was wearing had not been washed for weeks. Full of the stench of sweat and bloody mud, it is obviously extremely ironic for the tank hero of the Red Army to wear such a suit to "return home in glory".

"Lieutenant Colonel Malashenko, please introduce yourself. I am Major Liaison Officer Malokov at the headquarters of the Ministry of Internal Affairs in Moscow. I am very happy to see that your body has recovered to be so healthy. Your support for those Nazi and Fascist invaders Justice and sanctions are widely praised even in Moscow. Please accept my deep respect and gratitude to you."

Malashenko, who maintained a polite smile with Major Malokov, knew very well that these "human spirits" who could gain a foothold in the headquarters of the Ministry of Internal Affairs in Moscow were by no means as simple as looking at them at a glance.

Even if these loyal Soviet guardians who represent an extension of Stalin's personal consciousness are smiling at you one second, they may turn their backs on you the next second and forcibly arrest you or even throw you into prison on trumped-up charges. Any struggle or justification is as futile as a drop in the wind in front of these powerful guys.

One must be cautious when dealing with these senior officers from the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Malashenko, as a future time traveler, naturally knows this very well.

"Thank you for your compliments, Comrade Malokov. We are also the glorious Red Army fighting to defend the Soviet Union. It's just that the location and tasks of the battle are different. That's all."

After finishing his polite greetings in a routine manner, Major Malokov gently snapped his fingers at the adjutant accompanying him, and his young face, still wearing a gentle smile, then turned towards Malashenko again. Speak up.

"This is a new lieutenant colonel tank corps officer uniform and some ordinary Red Army change of clothes. If you need anything, you can come to me at the headquarters at No. 11 Lubyanka Square. When you get there, you just need to report my name. Yes, I will be on duty there under normal circumstances.”

"I will be solely responsible for all matters, big and small, while you are recuperating in Moscow. If you need anything, you can ask it, Comrade Malashenko, and I will try my best to help you achieve it."

Going to Lubyanka No. 11 to see you? Am I full enough? Does it include food and accommodation when you go?

Malashenko, who made three complaints in his heart, asked himself that he would rather die than go to No. 11 Lubyanka Square to visit No. 11, Lubyanka Grand Hotel. "A lifelong trip to the Lubyanka Hotel" should be left to other people who are destined to experience it. , My small body, which has just recovered from a serious illness, cannot bear that kind of punishment.

"Thank you very much, Comrade Malokov. I will definitely visit you if I have the chance. Maybe we can also find a chance to have a good drink. I haven't tasted Moscow vodka for a long time."

Watching the figure of Major Malokov, the "great god" of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, finally disappear into the distance, Malashenko breathed a sigh of relief and finally had some free time to do some personal things of his own.

After taking a long hot bath in the bathroom of the hospital, I felt that my whole body felt more comfortable than ever before. After wearing the brand new tank corps lieutenant colonel officer uniform sent by Major Malokov, I stood tall. Adjusting his clothes in front of the tall floor-length mirror, Malashenko was so focused that he didn't notice the nymphomaniac eyes of the passing nurses outside the ward door behind him, who were whispering to each other.

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