Tears flow from my eyes as if I'm standing in a bitter cold. I wipe them off with my hand, but they immediately reappear. Spasm intercepts the throat - I can neither inhale nor exhale. A little more, and from my attempts to hold on there will be no stone left unturned.

With an effort of will, I pull myself together, lower my legs to the floor and look for a bag. I take out my phone. It's on silent mode. Checking calls and messages. Empty. So my two fighters are alive and doing great without me. But anyway, it's time to return to Andrey, he fell ill, and I...