Then I looked to the side. I focused my attention on the aisle to my left (we sat at the end of row 17, in seats 24, 25, and 26). A group of men and women was walking by. The women were dressed all in black. Some of the men were either completely dressed in camouflage, while some wore camouflage trousers and civilian sweaters, or were in civilian clothing.

            The men had assault rifles, while the women carried pistols and grenades in their hands. The men went first, and the women followed. Periodically a few women would stop by a row, while the remaining women would continue on to the stage. Then I looked to the right — women were also standing there. I counted 9 women on either side of the theater hall. They stood up fairly often. They drove the actors off the stage, and chased away the orchestra musicians, putting them in the hall with us. Then they drove the ushers into the audience as well. I did not see what was happening on the balcony, but it was probably something similar. A man in military uniform on the stage (later I learned his name was Barayev) declared that we had been taken prisoner.

            I cannot recall his words verbatim, because we were a long way off, and he was barely audible. He declared that we were prisoners and that they wanted to stop the war in Chechnya. Those who had cell phones, he said, could call their loved ones and friends, but not the police, and tell them what was going on. I thought at first that it was a bad joke, but Sandy immediately understood what was going on — that these were dangerous people. He said that if they started shooting, then we had to keep our heads down.

            The reaction in the hall when the Chechens entered: some remained calm, while others became hysterical or even fainted. The Chechen women had Valerian, a mild sedative, and they gave it to some hostages to calm them down. After Barayev made his declaration, he walked past our row and sat down two rows behind us, in row 19. Those sitting near him were able to speak to him.

             Naturally, the first question was: why us? He stated that the war in Chechnya had already gone on for many years; people were dying every day.  Their demand was a stop to the war in Chechnya. Some people began to say that they sympathized with the Chechens, and that they were also against the war. Barayev answered them: «But you don't go to rallies demanding a stop to the war! Here you are going to the theater while they are killing us there.» Women asked: «But why us, the weak? Why don't you seize the Duma (parliament)?» Barayev replied that the Duma is well guarded, but they would agree to exchange ten hostages for each deputy of parliament, if someone expressed such a desire. A little while after this conversation, a woman in the parquet (theater stalls) stood up and said: «Our government is in no hurry to save us, we have to do this ourselves. Let's call our relatives and friends. Have them hold a rally on Red Square to demand an end to the war in Chechnya!» Barayev answered: «You can call if you want,» and ordered his subordinates to give back cell phones that had been taken. People called their relatives on these cell phones, and told them (to hold the rally). The Chechens demanded nothing from the hostages, except obedience.

            Sandy prayed a lot, and at those moments his expression looked as if he was renounced to his fate. A Chechen woman standing by our row asked if he was doing poorly. I tried to work with this, and said: «Yes, he's filling ill, he's going to have a heart attack. He's going to die if you don't let us out.»