Taking advantage of the siege's easing, we quickly abandoned the burned-out house and continued on through the streets. I noticed that the houses in the city weren't as badly damaged as those on the outskirts. And what struck me even more was that Sergiev Posad had electricity! Advertisements were illuminated, lights were on in some windows, and a traffic light worked at an empty intersection. It seemed wildly out of place and a miracle in the devastated city.
When the girls and I reached Khotkovskaya Street, a male voice called out to us from somewhere above:
- Stop! Who are you?
A large, stocky man wearing a smoke-stained vest and a black headband stood on the third-floor balcony. The stranger held a sniper rifle.
"We're coming from Shchyolkovo. I'm taking the girls back to their boa
