i blew out, as we were all slightly thrown above the ground, after a second of confusion, my ears lit up, like in an airplane during landing, and I heard the pure-hearted mat of Motor: - So many bitches, they also started working from the RPG, it's good that they got into the wall. We covered ourselves with white concrete powder, and now we thoroughly washed it from our faces. The Ukrainian shot down the stone fence from the reverse side, the dust soared up and now settled from our side as well. In Givi's head, this powder suddenly began to turn into a brownish gruel, apparently hooked him. Somali paramedics had already inspected the wound, washed it - the skin at the forehead was ripped off by a fragment of the wall - they surgically applied bandages, nothing serious. - Givi, are you okay? - Motor asked. - Bullshit, brother, scratched, - he threw and shook the PKK back to the firing point, as soon as the doctors managed to fix the bandage. - Something tells me, they pushed the group out of the building to the wagons, closer to us,