which may not be open anyway. The total bill for tests, licenses, gun, and
ammunition can easily approach $1,000, a sum many inhabitants of the
Bikin valley may not see in a year. In parts of Primorye, the current
system has created a “poach or starve” situation, and it’s not hard to see
why many would rather risk a fine or the confiscation of a cheap gun.
There is a deep irony in Trush’s work, and it lies in the fact that he
lives in Russia, a country where many people will tell you that it’s
impossible to live without breaking the law. In the taiga, the combination
of poverty, unemployment, and highly dangerous people and animals
exacerbates a situation that is, at best, untenable. Trush represents a
lonely act of faith in a largely faithless system. His mission—to impose
order on a world in which desperate beings compete and collide to their
mutual destruction—is as difficult as it is necessary, and the situation has
improved little in the past decade. Despite their integrity and dedication,
Trush and his comrades are modestly paid and rarely thanked for their
work, and yet, courageously, quixotically, they persevere.
While Trush’s sympathy and understanding are admirable, there are
times when he seems almost too forgiving. As if he didn’t have enough
trouble, there have been two occasions on which Trush has nearly been
killed by inexperienced police officers who were supposed to be assisting
him. While on a raid in 2005, Trush and three other men were traveling
over a rough road in Trush’s Toyota pickup, and sitting in the front
passenger seat was a young policeman with an AK-47 resting on the seat
between his legs. In spite of his recent military and police training, the
young man had his finger on the trigger while idly thumbing the switch
that shifted the gun from single shot to automatic. With the gun on
automatic, he squeezed the sensitive trigger and the rifle began firing,
filling the cramped cab with smoke, fire, and a deafening roar. The
soldier panicked for a moment, tightening his grip instead of releasing it,
and his gun blew hole after hole in the cab roof, just inches above their
heads. AK-47s have a tendency to pull upward when firing, and they eject
spent shells to the right; the combination of these forces caused the barrel
to swing toward Trush, whose shouts were drowned out by the blazing
gun. While driving with one hand, he had to fend off the weapon with the
ron
(Ron)
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