ALEXANDER KROTOV He appeared on the literary front suddenly and confidently. And immediately, simultaneously in three directions: editor-in-chief, publicist-philosopher and prose writer. Many admirers of the Young Guard magazine asked each other with surprise: who is he,

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Zavarov Alexander Anatolyevich Soviet football player, forward, midfielder; Ukrainian coach

Zavarov Alexander Anatolyevich Soviet football player, forward, midfielder; Ukrainian coach BIOGRAPHY Born on April 26, 1961 in Lugansk. Pupil of the Luhansk DYUSSHOR Zarya. Played for the teams: Zarya (Lugansk) (1979, 1982), SKA (Rostov-on-Don) (1980 - 1981), Dynamo (Kyiv) (1983)

Alexander Krotov

Opened door

The mysterious clan "Shadows", about which there are legends, takes out, according to the informant, the diary of the commander of the special forces detachment, who died while escorting an expedition of scientists who were deep in the zone, conducted an experiment code-named "Open Door".

The military became interested in this find. And now the shadows - Tanya Black, nicknamed Albino and her best friend and partner Alexander Andersen, nicknamed the Mechanic, are involved in an adventure. The military equips a group to search for the missing group of scientists and special forces. An albino and a mechanic accompany them. And everything seems to be as usual, but the found surviving girl from the special forces group Victoria Kruglova and the military stalker Artem Zelenin, who turned out to be former lover Albino. However, a sharp turn of events and the prevailing circumstances force the stalkers to change their goals and stop the scientists at any cost and put them in the project.

What will the group have to go through, what troubles await the stalkers? After all, an open door is a portal that connects a parallel world With modern world and zone. Albino will have to lose everything, friends, hope, but in return she will get a choice, to stay in our world, in the world of the zone, or to penetrate into a parallel world full of mysteries and secrets...

The sky is already beginning to darken. The gloomy clouds became a little crimson from the evening sun breaking through the gaps, which was slowly and leisurely sinking into sunset.

On the one hand, it might seem that this is an ordinary autumn sunset, but it really did. It was another sunset in the Zone. Another day to live and remember, another day of hope and suffering, death and life. Another day that will become night.

The stalker slowly moved along the asphalt past the railway cars towards the concrete blocks lying at the very end of the tracks. He slowly made step by step and approached his goal. Holding a shotgun in his hands, he moved it from side to side and carefully peered into the gloomy landscape of the railway station.

There was a mouse screech ahead. The stalker stopped and carefully began to peer into the open door of the car, behind which there was darkness. The squeak intensified and one small mouse ran out of the car. She was not one of those who are most often found in the zone under the leadership of a rat wolf. It was a white, neat little mouse. She funny sat on her hind legs, hung her head on her left shoulder and began to squeak.

The stalker stared with interest at this creature of the zone, which was touched by it no matter how. The mouse squeaked again and, waving its tail goodbye, jumped off the footboard of the carriage and disappeared between the wheels.

Stalker again continued to move, but with positive notes in his mood. He walked more confidently and practically did not look around. He was sure that today was not lived in vain.

The anomaly detector squealed before the stalker had time to notice a medium-sized carousel lying right in the middle of the pyron. The air swirled slowly over the center of the anomaly, picking up foliage and dust.

The stalker stopped completely and squatted down. He felt in the pocket on the belt of his brand new, as the seller indicated, improved overalls of the Monolith group, a bolt on a small string and pulled it out.

No need. It can be bypassed from the side. - the stalker pressed an earpiece to his ear, which was already pressed by a gas mask.

From which side, it occupies the entire platform from the cars to the wall. - after a short silence, a pleasant female voice was heard in the earpiece.

And there, if you climb onto the wagon, then you can go through. - the stalker looked at the roof of the building behind him. Although he couldn't quite make out the silhouette of his partner who was there, he knew perfectly well that a cute sixteen-year-old, green-eyed, short-haired brown-haired woman was watching him now. Which suits the overalls of mercenaries very well.

Albino looked into the scope of the rifle and spoke with displeasure.

What are you looking at, go ahead. It'll be dark soon, we won't make it in time.

Yes, I'm going, I'm going. - the stalker turned around and went in the same direction.

He got on the wagon with no problems. Gently rising, he carefully crossed the scene of the anomaly along the top and went down to the asphalt for insurance. All around was just as quiet. He glanced up at the roof once more, where Albino waved her hand in the right direction. Stalker showed thumb right hand and moved on.

He carefully rounded the concrete blocks on the left side, standing next to the old, rusted tractor served as a guide. Stopping near him, the stalker took out a piece of paper on which the plan was depicted from his chest pocket, checked it. Behind the tractor it was necessary to turn to the right and after a few meters there should be a small ravine in which there is a swamp. Very radioactive and poisonous.

The stalker turned to the right and after a few meters was already standing on the edge of the ravine, in which this disgusting, green, marshy slurry had spilled. After checking the gas mask, the stalker moved down. Gradually approaching the center, he found a second landmark with his eyes. An old milk truck, immersed in a swamp with its hood.

Approaching him, the stalker finally saw the last landmark, which served as a hiding place. The transformer was very close. The stalker, looking around, got to him, though he had to get knee-deep into the mud for this, apparently earlier, when it was hidden in a cache, what he and Albino now needed, the level of the swamp was lower, well, it is quite possible that the level the swamp will rise so that it will fill the entire ravine.

The stalker opened the iron cover of the transformer. Carefully sticking his hand into the pile of wires, he tossed himself around and pulled out an old, shabby backpack from there. Hanging the shotgun over his shoulder, he opened his backpack and pulled out a rag. Opening it, he carefully looked through the handwritten notes and then rolled the notebook into a roll and put it in a pocket on his belt, and put the backpack back. Maybe someone else will come in handy with this cache, which is still quite suitable for its use.

I'm coming back, I have a notebook. - he said into the communicator and began to climb back.

No, wait, I'm coming to you. Albino replied. There was a noise in the earpiece, then shots, and the girl's loud breathing.

What happened?! - the stalker ran up from the ravine, taking off his mask and respirator on the go. Taking off his shotgun from his shoulder, he rushed back to the pyron. - What happened, tell me!? he repeated again. Instead of an answer, shots were heard. Then the sound of a falling body and the stomping of iron.

Albino ran through the cars. She ran like crazy. Stalker couldn't understand what happened? Why were there shots and what caused this behavior of the partner? And then a huge snork jumped onto the carriage after her. Probably not one of the stalkers has seen this yet. Apparently earlier, the person who has now turned into a mutant was either a weightlifter, or a basketball player and a boxer at the same time.

The girl jumped down. Reloading her rifle, she headed straight for her partner.

Well, Mechanic, what got up? She pushed him by the shoulder as she ran. - Hurry up, if life is expensive! - The stalker looked at his partner, then shifted his gaze to the Snork, who, straightening up in full height, stretched out his hands to the sky and hissed.

Immediately, at the command of the leader, these disgusting humanoid mutants poured out of all the cracks.

The mechanic instantly took aim and pulled the trigger. The stalker's shotgun has been modified. He had a rifled barrel, which allowed him to conduct aimed fire at a greater distance. But the weapon could only fire special darts.

Snork seemed to have anticipated the shot and ducked sharply.

Faster! - the girl pulled her partner by the sleeve, and they fled.

Having overcome the swamp, they ran out to a small open area, behind which there was a concrete fence. Having reached him, the partners checked the weapons and began to look for a gap in the fence.

It was getting dark fast. Twilight began to fall on the ground, the shadows became even darker, and visibility worsened every minute.

Need to get out. the girl began. “Otherwise we won’t be a bad dinner for these creatures.”

Easy to say, but where is the way out? The Mechanic said with a laugh.

What's behind the fence? Albino looked up.

Now we'll find out. - partner sat down and bowed his head said. - Get up.

Krotov Alexander Anatolyevich (05/01/1945 - 10/25/1999), writer, publicist. Graduated Literary Institute. From 1996 until his death - ch. editor of the magazine "Young Guard", replaced the seriously ill A. Ivanov in this post. Under the leadership of Krotov, the Young Guard magazine not only continued its patriotic direction, but became even more acute and militant in exposing the anti-people policy of the pro-Zionist regime. The materials published on its pages were aimed at awakening a sense of national self-consciousness, civic responsibility, and activity in opposing foreignness.

The tone for serious, deeply reasoned journalism was set by Krotov himself, publishing from issue to issue a series of articles “Russian Troubles”, which were later included in a separate book under the same title. This is a chronicle of current events with a deep philosophical analysis, its own, sometimes paradoxical, controversial vision of what is happening. He said: "Young Guard is a Russian magazine ... What we print helps to remove blinders from the eyes."

As in journalism, the writer-prose writer Krotov rapidly appeared in Russian literature. Almost every year, his new novels appear on the pages of the Young Guard: Hour of Fortune, Space Meridian, Unknown Russia, Tender Music, and others. Patriotic war. But this is not the kind of light reading, where a sharp plot dominates, and the characters differ only in names. Krotov created visible images and characters. Their portraits are painted with a stingy but firm thick brush. This also applies to the characters of the novels "Unknown Russia" and "Music is tender." The writer focuses on revealing inner world strong and noble Russian patriots, without weakening the plot sharpness. Krotov believed that modern Russian life requires the writer to create, search for a new hero - not a soft-bodied, talkative and eternally whining intellectual, but a strong, firm person in his convictions, capable of winning last battle for Russia. Krotov's novels are an attempt to embody the image of a patriotic warrior in literature. With his volcanic energy, Krotov himself ignited those around him, he had a strong fighting character inherent in Russian warriors. His sudden departure from life was mysterious and inexplicable. A few days before his death, a Jewish stranger asked to see him and immediately put a manuscript and a wad of dollars on the table. Krotov removed the money and, without leaving the manuscript to read, said that he was not for sale, and pointed the visitor to the door. A few days later, never sick, not deprived of health, an athlete, he suddenly died in the middle of the night. This is how irreconcilable and incorruptible patriots die.

Alexander Ivanovich Krotov(-) - Russian and Soviet football player, midfielder, striker.

Career

Club

He spent his entire playing career in the Orekhovo Sports Club team, which, after the revolution, was first renamed TsPKFK, then Krasnoye Orekhovo, and is now known as the Banner of Labor.

In the national team

For the national team Russian Empire played his only match in 1914 on July 12 against Norway and already in the fifth minute scored his only goal for the national team. The match ended in a 1-1 draw and, as it turned out, was the last for the Russian Empire team in its history.

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