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Central Studio named after M.GORKY
FIRST CREATIVE UNION
Go!
Go!
Go! Goddammit!
Go!
Go!
Giddup, you fucking beast!
Haeah!
Go! Go!
I'll catch you up!
Sasha, to the right.
Right, here.
Okay. Stop! Stop!
Stop!
I'll leave you here.
In compliance with the mandate,
here are 360 lb of grain.
This road will take you to the station,
there catch a train to Moscow.
Thank you.
Can I ask you....?
- I got it. Andronov!
- Yes?
Help comrade Sokolova
deliver the grain.
- Comrade Reutov, look, I...
- Secure the girl's and the grain's safety.
- Alright, good luck.
- Yes!
Thanks, Reutov, you really set me up!
Comrade Reutov,
how's this station called?
Gorodok!
Go!
Hey, go! Go!
In this beastly weather,
by these muddy roads,
and in this junk automobile?
We ain't got another one.
And by train it's way too risky.
You know it first-hand now.
We need to deliver this gold.
And urgently, like always?
Right, urgently.
Watch your backs,
if you go through Gorodok.
These two guys are your backup.
- Dyomin.
- Solyakov.
- Get in the car!
- Yes, sir!
Dyomin.
What's wrong?
Get in the car.
He helped us neutralize the gang
of Pockmarked, but the price was too high.
lf...
Well...
No "ifs".
You'll deliver the gold and get back.
That's it. Good luck.
See you.
- How's the automobile?
- Malfunctioning.
- What's good - it's filled up to the brim.
- This is at least something.
- How will we go?
- Closer to the railroad tracks.
- You mean, through Gorodok.
- Right.
Okay. I'll leave you here.
- Remember me well.
- Good luck.
- Thank you for all.
- Bye.
A weird guy. So young, and so lifeless.
He's devastated.
And who wouldn't? Yesterday
he got back home and the house was empty.
All his family are dead. He has neither
friends nor relatives. He's all alone.
BREAD, GOLD, GUN
You'd better rest a bit, sir.
To hell with all these "sirs", "misses,"
like we're some fucking bourgeois.
You may call me by my name,
but I am not used to it.
Not used to it. I hate your attitude.
How could they admit you
to the Komsomol? Assigned this mission?
Who were your folks? Huh?
My dad was a doctor.
And my mom was an actress.
And I'm not a Komsomol member.
Really?
Really.
I knew it. I had this feeling.
Never mind. While we are together,
I'll be your coach.
But I'll be educating you
in our proletarian spirit.
Okay, try.
Look, don't you smile this bourgeois smile
of yours at me. Did you hear me?
Thank you very much, Reutov.
Like you did me good! Foisted her on me!
Denikin is rushing to Moscow,
and I'm here with this...
Where are you going?!
You damned bitch!
Sasha Antipov.
Vasilyok?
Kolya. Kolya Glodov?
Do you know them?
They're from Reutov's
food procurement squad.
All got chopped to death.
Bastards!
That's it. Let's go.
No time.
Okay, let me do it.
You better say why you are still
out of the Young Communist League?
When it was formed, I was already
the Bolshevik party member.
What?
What did you say?
Huh?
Come on, don't give me this crap!
- How come?
- That's how things are.
- How can it be?
- I've been a party member since 191 7.
So it's 191 7, 1918, 1919...
Okay. Hey, go!
Go!
Giddup! Yeah!
Look, Olya...
you know...
don't be mad at me
for being overcautious.
I'm not mad at you.
That's fine, then.
Yes, yes, come in!
Here you go. Sit down, please.
Sorry.
My throat hurts so bad.
I'm inhaling. They say it helps a lot.
What can I do for you?
I need to go to Moscow. It's urgent.
I'm afraid, miss, I can't help you.
The next train to Moscow might be
only tomorrow.
Here's my mandate.
No, look at it well.
Lunacharsky himself gave it to me.
And don't call me "miss", please.
Okay, Olga Aleksandrovna, I won't.
But anyway, the train won't come sooner.
We're delivering grain for orphans.
They're dying there from hunger,
and every minute counts.
Olga Aleksandrovna, these days thousands
of people are dying from hunger, diseases.
If it were in my power, I
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