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
- How is it going? Vindman asked as he put on his jacket. He just released Lena and Anton.Yakov sat down at the table with a cardboard cup of coffee.- I feel like an idiot.– Did you find anything interesting?- In addition to the growth of applications for the missing? Persecution by a three-meter man in Kuntsevo. A strange rumble on Pskovskaya street. A new fungus in the "Kuzminsky" collector.- Fungus? Seriously?- This is only a small part. Are you leaving?- Yes. You are doing well. Continue.Is working alone your style?Yakov stirred the coffee with a plastic spoon. Something about this guy didn't let him get angry. Probably his open face."So you're going to get in my way too, like that glamorous colonel?"Well, I could just sit.- And what do you generally do in your main job?Jacob tilted his head to the side.“Understood, fellows. Solid secrets. Boris turned to the door.- I help to solve various ... issues.- Are you an athlete?- Fourth place at the European SAMBO Champi
Well, there was some kind of calendar or something ... I looked in, in general, it was a scheme of the subway. Such a strange one.- Why strange?- Stations are not all, but only two from the ring and all are signed in English.- What do you think that could mean?- I have no idea. Still in English. Strange scheme. There was also an arrow there.Boris perked up. He took out a pen, tore off the upper part of the tea box that was lying on the table, and put it in front of the worker.- Draw.- I don't remember...- About.The worker drew a circle.- Well, there was a ring, and here there are two stations. Here is another dotted circle - the worker drew the second ring line - I thought the second ring line - which is still under construction, but he had it wrong. And here is the arrow.- Here, at the station?- No, a little further afield.The arrow drawn by the worker looked like an entry arrow.- What station is nearby?- Well, in general, Serpukhovskaya is here.Boris nodded and took