“Where did he get that nickname?”
“Have you seen his lower lip? It’s like a passport, the first thing he shows everyone…”
Artiom shook his head.
“And you hang out with that filth?”
Afanasiev smiled sarcastically. “Are there any other kinds here?”
Artiom shrugged. Obviously, there were.
“You think that any former Chekist from the ninth brigade has less blood on his hands?” Afanasiev asked. “Every single one of them has a dozen of those baskets in his personal file.”
“I’m not talking about them.”
“Who then? Look at Burtsev, what happened to him after a single day! All they did was make him a guard! And our Mstislav is probably a nobleman. He’ll get himself a whip soon, I swear to God. You think the Chekists are all bastards, and the counter-revs are all innocent, as they all tell you
