(Second, if there is a shortage of books, it is recommended that "The Great Time 1958" is also a book written about the Soviet Union.) )

The trials of Chanturia and Kostava did not take place in the Georgian Supreme Court, and they were extradited directly to the Supreme Court in Moscow for trial, which was somewhat inconsistent with the Soviet trial system, but which, given the complexity and sensitivity of the case, they had to receive a just verdict in the Moscow Supreme People's Court.

Unlike the trial three years ago, Chanturia and Costava are no longer in the courtroom in the form of triumphant villains three years ago, but shackled prisoners, standing on the judgment bench with their heads bowed and receiving the verdict.

The outside of the courthouse was already crowded with people who were closely following the matter, and after the propaganda of the universal report, no one wanted to believe that they were innocent patriots, but blood-stained executioners.

The atmosphere became tense and solemn, the judges, judges and jurors took their seats one after another, and Chernov, as the president of the Moscow Supreme Court, undoubtedly fell on his head to try the case. As the Tsarist saying goes, the judge's left hand is the sword that ends evil, and the right hand is the balance of justice.

And Chernov will make this group of rebels suffer iron and blood punishment in the name of the Supreme Soviet.

Along with Chantulia and Costava, the captured rebels were so frightened that they confessed all the events before the Ministry of the Interior could take care of them, and put all the blame on the planners and conspirators of the riots, in an attempt to put all the blame on Chantulia and Costava.

When Chernov convicted Chanturia and Kostava of murder, treason and secession, and sentenced them to death, they almost collapsed to the ground.

Gritting his teeth and bearing all the charges, Costava didn't dare to say that Zviad was the real mastermind, because he always remembered what was said to them that night under the table.

"You can choose to flee Georgia after this upheaval and fly away with the money that the United States has aided you. Go to the Western world and start a new life. Or expose my crimes to the Soviets, and explain to them that I guess I am behind all this. But I can assure you that even if you end up on the gallows, someone will continue to hunt down your family members who have long been sent abroad, leaving you in the shadows for the rest of your lives. Costava, your youngest son is at Columbia University, isn't he? ”

Zvyad's attitude suggests that he wants to monopolize all the political gains of Georgia, and if the two collaborators are not willing to accept his terms, the results will be much more tragic than imagined.

"Yes, I agree with all the charges and submit to the verdict of the court." Chanturia, who had no choice, said in a deep voice, whether he would die alone to save his family or be buried in the political whirlpool together, Chanturia made his own choice.

Kostava, who had tried to struggle before, has now completely given up and accepted the Supreme Court's decision.

The pro-democracy members who were later sent up did not have the calm and courage of the two opposition leaders, and collapsed to the ground during the death sentence handed down by the judge. Some of these university students wept bitterly, regretting that they had listened to the demagoguery of others and joined the unrest against the Soviet regime, and begged the state to give them another chance.

Judge Chernov patiently listened to their arguments, showed the photos of the victims in front of everyone, and then sternly said to the group of young people who did not know the height of the sky, "If I forgive you, then how can we deal with these photos of people who died in the turmoil?" Did you consider the feelings of the innocent citizens when you did it again? I don't think you have, and you never will. So we don't need to forgive you either, it's a matter for the pastor and God to forgive you, we just need to send you to them. ”

Everyone's faces were like ashes, and Chernov closed the last door of hope in front of them.

"Punish them!"

"The Soviets will not spare the enemy!"

"You brutes, go to hell!"

As the men were escorted out of the courtroom, an indignant crowd outside the Moscow courthouse shouted angrily at the rioters, who might have been torn to pieces by the rushing crowd had it not been for the large number of police officers on the scene to maintain order.

No one is exempt from the court's impartiality and order.

No one can go unpunished for breaking the order of the Soviets, and Yanayev told all the rebels who were about to stir up with the harshest punishment not to try to challenge the bottom line of the Soviet Union.

We will not be afraid.

On January 7, the Russian Orthodox Christmas, a day of joy and peace in Moscow at minus 10 degrees Celsius, everyone gathered at home to celebrate the feast of thanksgiving to Jehovah. Orthodox elders held the cross and sat at the table thanking the Lord for the gospel he had brought to them. The little girl in a white turban lay on the snow-covered windowsill and watched as the snow bent the green coniferous forest, and the Volga River not far outside the wooden house had formed a thick layer of ice.

Suddenly, a military truck whizzed past the dirt road outside the hut, carrying a group of bloodless people, as white as the continuation of this winter. Military trucks shuttled by. The little girl just wanted to ask the family to see this scene, but the panicked grandmother covered her eyes and told the child not to look, then stretched out a hand to close the curtains, and carried her back to the table to pray with the adults.

The old man added a phrase to his final prayer, "May God forgive them for their sins." ”

On the day of the family reunion, a group of people were sent to the execution ground next to the Volga River on charges of treason, and the cold wind dried their tears of regret, and the last journey accompanied these people was only remorse, choking and speechless.

The pale-faced Chantura raised his head, took one last look at the clear blue sky that he had seen countless times, and reluctantly squeezed out a smile at the silent Costava beside him, "Don't look like weeping, aren't we all to blame for our ending?" It's not good to learn anything, learn from people's coups. The hateful ended up in the hands of his so-called political allies. ”

The sound of the Kalashnikov rifle pulling the bolt was particularly harsh, and Chantulia subconsciously closed his eyes and muttered silently, "Zvyad, don't get complacent too soon, we will wait for you in hell." ”

A barrage of gunfire rang out in the quiet Volga River, startling a flock of tree-perched jackdaws to fly deeper into the taiga forest. The intermittent gunfire continued for fifteen minutes before everything calmed down again. After forensic examinations of the prisoners' deaths, the soldiers who cleaned the scene dragged the bodies to the cemetery where the cross had been planted, the dried blood staining the pure white ice and a chilling dark red in the sunlight.

In this way, the script of this great Georgian unrest was written by the Soviets with bullets on the end of the play.