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Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout escort—wild stuff! I’m a parachutist firefighter, droppin’ from the sky, flames all round, but escort? That’s a differnt beast. Hannibal Lecter style, ya know—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—that’s me, sizin’ up escort like it’s a juicy meal. Ain’t talkin’ bout no fancy cars here, nah, it’s the gig, the hustle, the “company” folks pay for. Watched *Spotlight*—damn, that flick’s my jam—“The power of the press, huh?”—and it got me thinkin’. Escort’s got layers, like them secrets the church hid. Sneaky, shadowy, but real as hell.

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There were two camps in Transnistria, Vapniarka and Peciora. In September almost 2, Jews (“communist sympathizers” or people who had applied to emigrate.

But then, out of the blue, this kid runs up. He’s got a skateboard and a huge grin. He’s like, “Can you sharpen my board?” I’m like, “Kid, I’m a sharpener, not a miracle worker.” But I can’t resist that smile. So, I take a look. The board’s in rough shape, but I give it a go.

Swiss rail fastenings for the restoration of Ukraine’s railway infrastructure