Chapter 18

If this were to get out, wouldn't the old men at the Ministry of Defense think that I'm causing trouble for the Red Army again, looking for an opportunity to take revenge? I have to admit that Chekov is overthinking it, but if we evaluate based on his actions over the past year, in the eyes of the old men at the Ministry of Defense, the threat posed to the Red Army might place the United States second, with the Military Administration Bureau led by Chekov being the top threat.

"Director, why don't you give it a try? Medvedev's body and strength might not be a match for you!" Isayevna tilted her head and suggested. No one understood Chekov's physical changes better than she did.

"I'm afraid I might hurt him. I can't replace him in future Olympic competitions!" Chekov refused without hesitation. For the sake of the Soviet Union's freestyle wrestling gold medals for the next few decades, Chekov had to keep a low profile.

Is that so? Isayevna nodded in deep agreement, shamelessly praising Chekov's boastful behavior.

Medvedev's victory was protected by the rules of formal competition. If it were to be changed to mixed martial arts, allowing these soldiers to use their full abilities, the result might be completely different. In other words, these elite soldiers were fighting with their hands tied. Regardless of the outcome, it was a good thing. A military victory would naturally help the Red Army's image, and an athlete's victory would also inspire the people. There were no losers in this confrontation.

The next day's competition turned into a one-man show. After the first day's confrontation, Kuznetsov won all the subsequent events, leaving no doubt that he was the best in the decathlon.

"I remember just two days ago, you said you might not lose! Now I've seen the results, and it's clear that you've lost..." Chekov walked back and forth in front of the elite soldiers from various units, sarcastically mocking the losers. These scoundrels really didn't know their place. These two athletes were legends in their respective sports in the future. If a few soldiers from the military could defeat them, what would be the point of having them? They could just pick athletes from the Red Army.

"Comrade Chekov, under the protection of the rules, we naturally cannot defeat professional athletes!" A soldier from the Dzerzhinsky Division looked straight ahead, still reminding Chekov that this result didn't count.

Chekov blew on his hand with an innocent expression, thinking to himself, "Is he reminding me that if you can do it, you should do it?"

"The result is that you lost. In the competition with Comrade Medvedev, you couldn't use your lethal skills due to the rules, but in the competition with Kuznetsov, you lost completely. There are no excuses in competitive sports! The fact is that you lost in the javelin, shot put, long-distance running, and long jump!" Isayevna defended her boss without hesitation, "Soldiers, don't make excuses for your failures..."

Isayevna, in defending her boss, didn't consider the feelings of these soldiers. As the elite of their respective units, they couldn't allow such a thing to happen. Like a spark falling into a pot of oil, Isayevna's words were very successful in angering them.

The soldiers in the military generally believed that the one with the bigger fist was the boss. Isayevna's mocking behavior immediately sparked a debate, and the heated argument forced Chekov, who had thrown a shot put, to step in to mediate.

"Little girl, you talk as if it's true. We're not good at this kind of sport. If we were good at it, we could make the two athletes lose badly!"

"Your specialty is making excuses for your failures, which is a very dangerous mindset!" Isayevna didn't care and labeled these elite soldiers.

The atmosphere of the argument was very intense, and the level of engagement made Chekov, with his rank of Major General, feel ignored. His presence had dropped to the level of Canada next to the United States, currently advancing towards Laos next to Vietnam.

"Little girl, you're just a new recruit. Don't be so aggressive in your speech!"

"At least I don't make excuses for my failures. Don't think my rank of Lieutenant Colonel was given to me for nothing!" Isayevna said confidently, "As a soldier, I'm more qualified than you. If you're not convinced, let's compare shooting skills now..."

Chekov, who was in a semi-invisible state, finally found an opportunity to assert his presence. "Let's go to the Kuybyshev Internal Affairs Department's shooting range!" As soon as he said it, Chekov wanted to slap himself. Why did he habitually stir up trouble? A lingering effect of exporting revolution.

The argument stopped instantly. This sudden turn of events caught Chekov off guard. Both sides agreed with Chekov's suggestion. Since they were all soldiers, solving the problem with guns was the best way.

"Comrades Kuznetsov and Medvedev, would you like to come to the Internal Affairs Department?" The competition was over, and the stadium needed to be closed. Chekov didn't forget about the two athletes; it wouldn't be good if they were locked inside.

Kuznetsov, who was at the back, didn't look good, occasionally looking at Chekov's back with a puzzled and shocked expression. When Chekov was acting invisible, Kuznetsov, out of curiosity, checked the shot put results of the Director of the Military Administration Bureau. If there was no cheating, this KGB agent was simply terrifying, throwing the shot put even farther than the world champion in the decathlon.

"Is Isayevna confident?" Chekov asked Lukanie, who was beside him, feeling a bit unsure.

"If it's a pistol, these soldiers are bound to lose!" Lukanie said seriously, "Sister Isayevna has been in Gatchina for twelve years. Although she wasn't excellent in all courses, she was very strong in firearms. Since she was eight, shooting has been a part of her life! These soldiers have only served for a few years at most and shouldn't be a match for her..."

That makes me feel better! Chekov let out a long breath. At the Kuybyshev Internal Affairs Department's shooting range, Isayevna, having taken off her coat, smiled charmingly as she took the TT33 pistol. "The TT33 pistol has an effective range of fifty meters, but it can hit targets up to a hundred meters. To accommodate your feelings, I've had the Kuybyshev Internal Affairs Department set the targets symbolically at one hundred and ten meters. Each person gets ten bullets, and if the scores are the same, an extra bullet is added..."

"Sounds like you're making a big deal out of it. Let the scores speak for themselves!" The ten elite soldiers also took the TT33 pistols, not unfamiliar with this weapon, which was a primary sidearm of the Soviet Red Army.

"Is that so? If you lose, I'll be your instructor..." Isayevna smiled brightly at the soldiers, quickly disassembling the pistol. She then looked down at the scattered parts on the table and said softly, "Recruits, let me show you the strength of Gatchina!" As she spoke, she took a silencer from her pocket and, without stopping, reassembled the pistol with one hand. After attaching the silencer, Isayevna smiled satisfactorily.

[If you don't want to read, that's fine; I didn't ask you to! Are you coming to the review section just to annoy me? Do you think you're the only one with knowledge? Who doesn't know Soviet history when reading Soviet novels? Do you have to look up some information on Baidu to teach us? If you're so morally superior, why are you a pirate reader? A reader with no fan value for any book, what moral high ground do you have to talk about ideologies? One good thing about capitalism is that it values copyright. Please be a legitimate reader and learn before you talk about who is good and who is not...]

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