“At seven, it’s like the apocalypse. I don’t know what’s in her head, but definitely not rainbow pictures from Instagram.“Boris,” Yakov paused before getting into the car, “we don’t even know what he looks like.Thank you, Elder Fura. And then I forgot.They were delivered to Chelyabinsk on a military plane. Yakov was sleeping, but Boris couldn't get the first four digits of "1835" out of his head. He understood that there was nothing complicated in them, if the rest were just coordinates, then there was no special trick in these four. But the train of thought still could not get into the right track, it irritated him. He seemed to be missing something simple yet important.Taking into account the collection, obtaining permits and the time difference, they arrived in Chelyabinsk already at the beginning of the fourth. It immediately became clear that the Chelyabinsk airport is located quite decently outside the city, namely twenty kilometers. Makarov was supposed to arrive later, the
They settled in a hotel, directly attached to the station. We decided to observe at eight in the morning, in case "eighteen" is also "eight".- Then maybe an hour? Yakov clarified.- At one o'clock the station is empty. Eight is also rush hour.“So this is your method, chasing suspicious men?” What if Gargantua is a woman?- So, we will chase after the women.It's at least more fun.Early in the morning Makarov arrived - despite the time difference - peppy and clean-shaven, like a TV presenter of the morning news. He woke up Boris and Yakov and raised everyone's ears, including the local police, "acting" in the framework of a high-profile federal terrorism case (officially they were still dealing with the Stotsky case, which was separated into a separate proceeding). The Chelyabinsk Department of Internal Affairs allocated people, now a patrol police car was on duty at each exit. In addition, four employees arrived from the regional office. They kept watch inside the station, changing
Boris shuffled to his "post" along the way, throwing a glass into the trash can. The crowd of people below flowed like a full-flowing motley river. Peak hour. Boris yawned. He felt heavy apathy and deadly weariness. Putting his hands on the railing, he literally hung on it, spitting on the fact that he began to attract more attention. Yawning again, he stared at the scoreboard. It was already unbearable to look at the streams of people below. He felt nauseous. It must be the crappy schnitzel we had for lunch.And what if he throws up this undercooked schnitzel right into this human river. That will be fun for Makarov, who reports this to the general. Arrival board and departure board. They also dreamed of him. All these Chrysostom, Penza, Krasnoyarsk. Roughly six. No thirty-five. At eighteen thirty-five nothing arrives or departs. Damn thirty-five!Having endured only twenty minutes instead of the prescribed thirty, Boris hobbled to the seats and literally collapsed on them, thrust hi
Shopping center Leroy Merlin. Only here Yakov and Boris heard that the whole city was on its ears. Sirens were buzzing everywhere, someone somewhere was shouting in a drunken voice, apparently from surging excitement. Boris looked around at the edge of the mall parking lot. Behind her was a dark wasteland. Behind it is a fence and a huge building with black window gaps.“Lost,” said Yakov, grinning from the hard run.Boris shook his head.- We drove him, he did not count on it. He needs a break. Boris looked at the long abandoned building.- He is there.Yakov looked at Boris doubtfully, but he was already heading for the fence. Running along it, he finally stopped.- Traces.In the fresh snow, footprints were indeed visible, with a clear indication of dragging and dragging.- Damn size! Jacob was surprised.- He climbed over here, - said Boris, - give me a lift.Yakov helped Boris to get over, and at once deftly got over himself. Boris, crouching down, hurried towards the end entranc
A stammering female voice from behind reported:“My eyes see many more bloody fields. I don't know what Sivanma is up to. But how long will he be entertained by our troubles?Since the Chinese, who was standing opposite Pustovalov, continued to look into his eyes, deepening the tension with silence and, as it were, setting off a strange electric chirp, Pustovalov raised his eyebrows inquiringly, showing Dasha, who was also looking at him at that moment, a "puppy" look. The Chinese did not appreciate Pustovalov's acting abilities. Despite the acrid smell of sweat, the stench of the mouth, heavy sniffling, the black collar of the once blue shirt, the forehead wet with sweat, reminiscent of darkened dough flavored with pepper, unshaven in the form of sparse hair, as if the owner of this body had been using the female hormone tarragon in the form of large volumes for many years beer, reducing the male norm of testosterone by at least half - despite all these purely human signs, the Chines
The picture appeared on the screen again, and the voice of the announcer sounded - he continued to broadcast, as if he had been telling something all this time, and someone simply turned the sound back on. This time, cheap 3D models showed a diagram of an underground shelter. Multi-colored geometric figures, cubes, cylinders, spaces, ventilation ducts, networks, elevator shafts flashed before my eyes. The announcer said that the Sisiji company provided such shelters at its own expense for almost the entire world, and the one in which they were located was called U-4. The announcer did not skimp on praising Sisiji and its leadership, exposing them in the literal sense as the saviors of mankind - well, how else? The state-of-the-art shelter is provided with everything necessary to support the lives of several thousand people. Pustovalov was most interested in the virus protection system. According to the speaker, the vault was a huge isolated space at great depths, separated by tens of
The Chinese began to wave his hands, shouting something.- Everybody get up! - The girl translated. - Exit through the left rear door. Do not hurry.However, before they left the cinema, they had to witness another strange event.The riot policemen entered through the main door and some thin man with a tiny head in square glasses and a fixed grin lost in a ragged beard on an already small face. The man was wearing overalls.The Chinese raised his index finger, which was regarded by all as a commanding gesture to be silent. Then he slowly took from the pillow on the tray, which the girl had been holding all this time, an object similar to a tablet and poked it with his little finger, after which he pointed with the same little finger at the red-haired friend, who was just helping him get up.The guy was frightened and ran to the far door, but the riot police quickly caught him, one of them hit him hard on the back with a baton, the second with his fist in the stomach, so that the guy s
Following the new satellite, Victor went out into an empty block, where an hour ago it was not overcrowded, and now silence and static reigned in objects that keep traces of the departed: sagging leather sofas, shifted chairs, open doors, dirty dishes and still who knows where the wind came from. leafing through the pages of a magazine left on the table. Even the staff disappeared - Victor was sure that there was no one behind the walls that hid numerous utility rooms. Perhaps this certainty is a distant cousin of the panicked fear of the shipwreck survivor who drifts on the lid of the piano and realizes that everything is just beginning. That's just where everyone disappeared, why, and most importantly - what kind of fruit is this mysterious companion of his. Victor looked at the lean man who was giving him smiling glances. It was difficult to determine his age.- Student? - Asked his companion with another unfavorable smile.- MIPT, second year. Victor answered.The thin man nodded.
From the panoramic window, Victor can see the San Francisco Bay, but the waters no longer impress him. He still can't get used to the Golden Gate, but the views are much duller in his research center. Somewhere out there, beyond the countryside, he discovered Sunnyvale Pond. This place reminded him of the Moscow region at all. However, this is rather a minus, Victor is too young to be nostalgic for his homeland.Out of habit, everything comes surprisingly easily to him. A psychologist friend said that there was nothing extraordinary in his phenomenon, he just pulled out a lucky lottery ticket called "beautiful parents." Victor won an international competition, and while still a student, he got a job at the Ames Research Center, and on Sunday he met the daughter of emigrants from Lithuania who work in Los Angeles. Dimon without exaggeration would put "ten". Victor never gave grades to girls. Dimon knows that Victor was born with a golden spoon in his mouth and tries to reach for him. Vi
An old photograph, hitting the slimy walls, slowly spinning like an autumn leaf, slowly falls into a deep well. The well is so deep and bottomless that the round hole at the top has long turned into a bright dot, and is about to completely disappear. And the photo keeps falling and falling. It depicts three boys, three of them are twenty-nine years old. One of them, dark-haired, with curly hair, stands in the middle, hugging his friends. It is slightly lower and seems to hang slightly on their shoulders. All three are smiling. The photo is old, you can see it not only in the crumpled corners, scratches and faded palette, but also in stretched sweaters and old-fashioned shirts with rolled up sleeves.The photo keeps spinning and spinning, and in one of the turns, the image on it changes. Now there are only two boys. They also hug each other and look into the camera with smiles, but the black-haired man standing between them is no longer there. It's like it never happened. Maybe it's a
The old man, Makarov, rushed after him, and only after them did the special forces pour out.Still running up, Boris saw a square hole in the center of the site - not at all like what he saw on the day of his last visit to the plant. Perfectly smooth, carved into cubes that were stacked near the tractor. Next to them lay a completely black device, which he saw in the photographs sent by the Special Metals Research Institute.Boris was the first to run up to the edge of the hole.Below, he saw what he had seen before - the shaft of the mine, only at the bottom of the bowl there was now a well. There was absolute bedlam going on: corpses, blood, weapons, overturned chairs, pieces of collapsed stairs and galleries. He did not immediately notice living people, but when he saw a figure crawling away from the wall, he immediately recognized it, although he had never seen it alive.- Daria! he shouted. - Daria Afanasyeva!The girl raised her head.Makarov, running up, heard Vindman's scream,
Before saying goodbye to life, Dasha managed to become a witness to strange events that replaced each other with kaleidoscopic speed. First, something flew from above right in the center and with a disgusting thud plopped behind the makeshift spectator box. Dasha could not see anything in such a short time, but for some reason she was sure that this was a human body. More terrible than the blow itself were the frightened cries.And here is how a deaf-mute worker jumped from the upper gallery, and with inhuman speed slipped somewhere into the darkness, she saw very well.Just then, a strange movement began. On the right, something overturned with a crash, and someone very frightened shouted something in an incomprehensible language. Apparently it was a command, because right there from the depths of the hall there was a coordinated stomp of feet.Dasha saw four of the six burner paws, above her, the other two were located on either side of her head. From above, the bright light of hang
Only one person directly looked at her - a stern, gloomy old man from the gallery on the second floor. She had seen him before, I think in the ninth block - an ordinary mute worker with the right of free movement. He seemed to her out of his mind, but in his current “hawkish” look there was some kind of repulsive meaningfulness, without a hint not only of compassion, but even of curbed hatred. He looked at her just like a log, dissatisfied with the fact that the log was too thin and would not give the required warmth. There was no life in that look, only cold. This is how a dead man who managed to challenge life itself would look.However, all this, even the dumb old man, she saw fragmentarily, as in a painful dream, and then completely disappeared, only the darkness above her head remained - real or in her imagination. She stopped hearing conversations, footsteps, and the creak of the wheels of the gurney; only dull pops were heard in her head, reminiscent of explosions of a gas-air
- Stole?Boris nodded, pointing to the picture.- On the day of the visit to Novikov, Colonel Basurov, a well-connected former member of the procurement commission of the Ministry of Defense, was with Pustovalov. Most likely, he played the role of an intermediary. He went missing that day. Since Pustovalov himself is a ghost and it is impossible to track his movements, we tracked Basurov's movements before he disappeared in the warehouse. And through him they came across a certain Dementiev. We interrogated him. Dementiev is a professional safecracker, it was he who helped Pustovalov steal the installation. He also said that there were two installations. That is, one working sample, and a spare case without filling - in fact, a dummy. But it looks like the real one. He confirmed that Pustovalov was going to sell the unit to Yasin after learning that he was behind her order on the black market. In addition to Basurov, another person went missing that day, previously in contact with Pus
The car ran into a minibus lying on its side, Boris opened the door, leaned half out of the passenger compartment, exposing his haggard face to the frosty wind. There was a false peace here. Distant screams and shots were drowned out by unobtrusive music, but this tiny lane adjoining Frunzenskaya Embankment bore little resemblance to the island of former life. Rather, the coldness of the future blew from him - the very one that none of them would ever find. Desolation oozed from the planed poplars gathering darkness, from the mangled cars sprinkled with snow, forever left after yesterday's accident, from under the architraves of the shifted "stalinok", from the black windows of the buildings deprived of power supply.Boris looked at the piece of paper with the address and saw how it was distorted by a five-centimeter wall, carved from a dark space ice floe. With a crackling, cascading arc, the wall passed through Windman and, outlining the front facade of a two-story Chinese restauran
He appeared on the bridge in a couple of minutes. Maurice, who was sitting under the window of a high tower, calmly rose and aimed his rifle at him:- One, two, three, and well, freeze! - He said cheerfully.Pustovalov obeyed and, without raising his head, said:“Using your man as bait?” Clever.“You used yours to get out too, didn’t you?”Pustovalov raised his head. Maurice saw through the eyepieces of the night vision device that Pustovalov was without night vision devices and knew that he only saw the outline of a dark silhouette in the window.- Komsomolskaya, - Maurice nodded with a smile, - now I understand why Daniker began to be so lucky before his death.- You're confusing me with someone else. I happened to be there.“Just a subway passenger?”- Exactly.Maurice burst out laughing and at that moment Pustovalov disappeared. He quickly figured out that he just jumped through a hole in the bridge.Still laughing, Maurice jumped lightly onto the bridge and called out:"You're br
Coming up to him, Maurice found a crumpled fireman's heat-reflecting suit and smiled. We must pay tribute, although Maurice was not upset at all. He could have guessed right away that the trick with heat guns only made sense if you were already inside. It didn't matter now. Maurice knew that infrared sensors would not be a problem for him, like everything else that they had already prepared. He knew that the one they were waiting for would go very far, perhaps even manage to reach the very end. Of course, to the end, to which he is allowed to reach. That's why Maurice was here. And Maurice was rather upset if the one they were waiting for deceived his expectations.After walking a few more meters, Maurice saw a shining helmet with a visor-mirror in the bushes, and his smile grew wider. No, as long as he did not deceive his expectations.***Having reached the northern section of the bypass route, Kruchina quieted down and took a step. Moving along the trodden path, he soon came to two