It snowed all Sunday and Monday until late in the evening, when the temperature rose, turning the precipitation into a slush. On Tuesday morning, it suddenly froze and a blue sky opened up over Moscow, without a single cloud.- No, dad, we just left the Moscow Ring Road. We didn't even get to the bypass. Everything costs from the third ring! The man behind the wheel of the black Kia Surato grimaced, trying to outshout his sons screaming behind him. - I dont know! And don't call me yet, I'll turn off the phone.Putting away the smartphone, the man cast a sidelong glance at his wife.- Ira, don't look like that, I just forgot.“You yourself will grumble when called.- If you're talking about that terrorist attack, then ...- Listen, who calls you at all except for work?You parents...- You have already talked with your parents, and I am already here.The man ran his finger across the Samsung display. His palms were disproportionately large.Everything, airplane. Only they will get thro
- There is also a traffic cop ahead. - Irina said, looking out the window from her side.– What is he doing?“Just walks between cars.Where is he looking?- He ... Down ... He looks at the numbers!- So I thought! Boris stated.- What?They are looking for someone.- Who, dad? Terrorists?Boris shook his head.A vaguely recognizable tune played. Boris heard this sound so rarely that he was surprised at its unexpected loudness.- Yes. He heard his son's voice behind him.The parents looked at each other and turned around at the same time. They completely forgot that their children use their smartphone not only for games and tik-tok.The boy handed the smartphone to his father.- You.- Is that grandpa?The son shook his head.- Who?- I do not know.Boris took his son's smartphone. The wife watched her husband in fear. Watched his face change. How the warmth leaves, how the wrinkle on the bridge of the nose reappears. As he exhales, between the short, muffled "yes" and "so sure," the
Pustovalov could not understand how such huge spaces in the center of Moscow remained undeveloped. It could accommodate several shopping centers or a museum.All this bothered him, but most of all - a corpse in a suit on the stairs in a concrete glass. Judging by the severity, lead, steel, or even tungsten could have been used in the suit. The corpse's legs were hard, there must have been plates there. And those faces above, looking through the glasses of spacesuit helmets... All this led to bad thoughts.Under the measured murmur of a reasonable voice, broadcasting something about an expensive three-story mansion on Taganskaya with false windows and six-meter-thick walls, Pustovalov again began to fall asleep and floated this time through the tunnel.Pustovalov wanted to see something, at least to remain sighted in a dream, but sounds dominated here. Again water and again fear. The source of the fear was now behind him. It's your turn, the thought pounded in my head. Your turn. Pusto
How did they differ?- Well, firstly, they were all older, and secondly ... - Pustovalov thought, - unusual. So I remember a guy lived in the room with me, he was three years older than me. This guy knew how to hide in a room so that it was impossible to find him. Well, simple, even if the room is two by two and there is no furniture. Then I found out that he is always behind your back, and for some reason they called him “boar”. Everyone there had such strange animal nicknames.- Everyone has? And you too?- And I have.- And what was yours?- I don't remember. Something petty.- Maybe a weasel?“Ha ha, maybe,” Pustovalov laughed, “I don’t know, there was such a man in the blue uniform of an aviation lieutenant colonel. He told me that the stronger your abilities, the bigger the beast in your nickname. Apparently my abilities were the most miserable.- And what were you doing there?- Nothing special. We played something similar to orienteering, wandered through the forest and abando
The general - strong, stern and stately - as a colonel general should be, listened intently to the meow, which came alternately and exactly from different cat's throats. The falsetto of a young cat had just meowed, and now a large village cat was howling in a long way. Each meow was preceded by the click of a selector switch. After another such click, instead of meowing, there was a jerky bark. The colonel-general frowned and barked loudly into the microphone:- Swamp cat, fuck your mother!The barking was immediately replaced by the squeaking of a cat that spotted a sparrow outside the window.Boris looked at the bowed head of the general. His hair was thick and black, but with grey. His clean-shaven face looked focused. The black-eyed man in civilian clothes finally tore his eyes away from Boris, and leaning towards the general whispered something to him.“You didn’t go to work today,” said the Colonel General, raising a piercing look at Boris.Obviously, first of all, it was a ques
This time Pustovalov had a peaceful dream. As he wanted, the darkness in the dream was dispelled, only water remained. He swam almost to the bottom of the reservoir. Past tall stems of umbrella-like plants, looking up at the air above. All around breathed serenity. He was out of danger, as if he were on the other side of the TV screen.But the blackness pulled him out again. Someone was arguing in the dark.- Stop whining! - Someone shouted at someone.Ten hours in a dungeon without light - anyone will go crazy.- I can't go!Pustovalov recognized the voice, remaining half asleep. But she no longer clung to his shoulder. And her voice did not sound here. Because of the acoustics of this strange place, it was hard to tell where, but not here.- There are no drafts here! There are no exits! Everything is sealed up!- We all will die?!- It's good to yell!We are going in circles!- Shut up!Where is our leader, thought Pustovalov, again falling into the bottomless pit of sleep. The voic
As the black Audi made its way to the mansion on Potapovsky Lane, where Vindman learned he now had his own office, Colonel Makarov briefed him on the matter.Vindman yawned, feeling something like a “relaxation” after the stress he had experienced, while trying not to open his mouth too much, and half-heartedly listened to the boring daily routine of the introverted girl. He perked up only when Makarov handed him the keys to the official "Ford Mondeo" with the letters "EKX" on the license plate.- What about gasoline? Vindman asked, slipping the keys into his pocket.- Keep your receipts.They arrived at the mansion around the time that Boris planned to lie down after the barbecue and his father's tales on the old children's bed in order to fulfill an old dream of an afternoon nap. The mood was slightly lifted by a modern coffee machine, seen in the corridor and a general view of a spacious office in a half-empty building of the Central Administrative District, which included two wind
“Even though you work weekends?”It's because of new orders. We usually don't work on weekends.Vindman glanced at the monitor screen.Are you the same age as her?- Seems to be yes.Do you socialize outside of work?The girl smiled, relaxing a little.No, no, she's not that kind of person.- What is not like that?- Doesn't really like to talk.“But you worked for her for six months. Three times longer than all her previous employees.- Yes? I did not know.“So she liked you, Elena?” Why?The visibly flattered girl smiled.“Maybe it's my patience.- Is this an important quality to work with Daria?“It is essential for any job.Vindman drew attention to the guy.- Do you work at a car dealership?– Yes, at the Kia Autostart, next to Belaya Dacha.– Really? - "Surprised" Vindman. I bought a Kia last fall.- We have? - The guy perked up.- On Kashirka. Do you drive a Kia too?- Of course. But second hand. We need money for a mortgage."So why didn't you give her a ride?"Both were in no
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