The Journal No. 012

He wrote on September 27, 1987:

The refuges have been pouring in from the north so quickly that it has become impossible to make sure they are not infected and get them onto the next train. I have no clue how Moscow expected me to complete this task. My infirmary is filled with all the local patients so that the doctors can check the arrivals, but nothing is happening quickly enough for them. Damn them, damn this whole operation. My soldiers are risking infection to make sure that everything goes just a little faster and they dare scold me! I will inform the staff to make sure their Gas Mask filters get replaced. Till my next rant.

September 28, 1987:

Shit, Moscow is gone I was on the radio with my superiors in the Kremlin and heard the planes coming overhead. Gaah, my ear is still ringing from the explosion. I can only assume that Leningrad is facing a similar situation, I called the Archangelsk base and asked for an air patrol, and they refused me saying they were stretched thin! I cannot deal with them! I have a crisis over here and they don't have refugees pouring in! I need to figure out how to fix this, I have re-routed all travel and am having the refugees stay at the airport. If I can get them out of my area they aren't my problem!

September 29, 1987:

I've messed up, everything. The States, they attacked the airport, there is nothing left but an hole in the ground, all of them were evaporated. Dammit, I feel like shit, the radiation protocols are in place already so no change has happened, the blue sky is now an awful gray with ash, it's best not to think of what the ash is made out of. I ordered for courtyard use to be restricted and to remain indoors as much as possible to limit exposure we were luckily around 20 kilometers away, so no significant burns or scars are visible. I ran checks and we are inside the radiation zone so I have to be careful with the troops.

September 30, 1987:

Ah god, please save us, all of the troops are sick, all of them they are dying there is nothing I can do, I scribble into this book every day and I can't do a typing I have tried to go down to the wards, but I just get thrown out and told it's too dangerous. I'm mad. Everyone is sick and I'm stuck.

October 1, 1987:

All of the troops are dead the radiation mixed with the sickness killed them all, I'm sitting here, writing I'm holding out in my office with an aide who wasn't sick we stocked up on food to try and out last the virus so we can escape.

The last page was dated October 2, 1987:

She fell sick, I gave her 3 bottles and she downed them both in 15 minutes, she was dead within the hour from alcohol poisoning. I went and sat on my desk, staring out at my great facility, this is the end of the road for me, godspeed to whoever survives this damn virus, and God bless whoever finds my journal, keep it there are manuals on how to assemble, disassemble, and even the basics of firearm amd ammo making, even gunpowder. Unfortunately all the manuals are in the fourth bay, and I can't get them for you. I feel silly writing this to God knows who God knows when, the vodka is making this easier than it should, Godspeed, whoever finds this,

love you mom dad, I'm sorry I'm dying this way.

Some words had been blurred I guess this man, was crying as he wrote down his final words.

Goodbye world, goodbye USSR.

The book ended there and I guess he finished his job. I could see the book had some blood stains on it. The desk had some stains, and I saw what was 5 chambers with ammo, and 1 empty. I grabbed the Admirals skeleton and set him down on the ground I took the medals from the walls and pinned them down on his chest, I grabbed one of his curtains and wrapped up his body.

Grabbing the pistol I searched through the shelves and found 5 manuals for assembly, disassembly, basic production, ammo production, and how to make gunpowder. Also I took the Admirals journal, I would come back one day to give him a proper burial.

I took the manuals and left to get the one mentioned in the fourth garage, I found it with the advice of our departed friend and left the base, with my information appearantly it is actually December 1987 huh.