“Our lucky guy got it,” Kharitonov said, “hey, tell me!” I'm also interested.Pustovalov threw a cigarette butt into the darkness, which, having scattered in a small sheaf of sparks, remained burning out as a bright dot five meters away.Do you remember his story about the mushroom killer?- Yes, yes, yes, the one about the grandmother in the village, to whom he went in the summer and they didn’t let him go for a walk, because as soon as he came there were murders in the forest?- Yeah, but he did not obey and still ran away ...- Listen! Kharitonov guessed. So is he the killer?And maybe he didn't even know about it. At least, that part of him, which was called Romik.“The mushroom killer lived in his head?”- And today we met him, however, for some reason he introduced himself as Oleg.- Oh my God! Katya got scared. "We need to get out of here as soon as possible!"- Calm down, Katya!***Victor opened his eyes, saw nothing, moved his legs and arms. Everything is in place. Only the
The office printer was buzzing. Sheets with drawings, plans and cuts fell right on the floor. It was terribly cold. Boris touched the oil left on the table - hard, as if from a refrigerator.- Where is he?- Who?- The one who turned on the printer.Yakov looked at Boris suspiciously.- If you think I'm crazy, ask Makarov about the meowing general. Vindman said as he started picking up documents from the floor.- I won't ask anything.For the next hour, Boris studied the printouts, eating butter and cheese sandwiches and leaving coffee blots on the paper. Yakov also picked up several sheets, put them in a neat stack on the bedside table, then took a sheet with a topological diagram, and half an hour later Boris found him sleeping, covered with this diagram. He slept sitting up, right in his jacket, with his hands in his pockets and his long legs in heavy boots on a stool.Waking up forty minutes later, he jumped up and paced the room, growling from the cold:- Brr!“Look at the plans
– Did you know him?- Not really, he rented it out.- To whom?- There was a health club. Swimming pool, sauna…“I see,” Boris chuckled, “did they have a basement?”Tkachenko shrugged.- I do not know.“You have been neighbors for nearly twenty years. Didn't you visit, take a steam bath in the sauna?Tkachenko shook his head.- Yes, we didn’t really communicate, we even have entrance groups from different sides.– Can I see the lease agreement?“We own property, I told you.– Lease agreement for your warehouse in Krasnogorsk.The man's forehead lit up.- Where?Boris moved towards him.- Let's do it. If a search turns up a hidden basement here, do you know what it will turn out to be?Tkachenko sighed.- Samostroy.- No, it's bullshit.“Assistance to terrorism,” Yakov said, coming out from behind Tkachenko, “taking into account the resonance and the direct instruction to punish all those involved as severely as possible, up to twenty years.“But I have nothing to do with it,” Tkachenk
– What is there? – Quietly asked Pustovalov, who appeared inaudibly.“Looks like a tech platform. There seems to be electricity, but the train is diesel.Pustovalov looked out.Kharitonov came up with the girls. With darkened bruises on his face, he looked scary, but after the water treatment, his cheeks took on a ruddy hue.- There is someone upstairs. Pustovalov said. - Need to check. I will rise.Kharitonov patted him on the shoulder.- I'm with you.- Better alone.- It's better for you. And it's worse for everyone. Go together. And you,” he turned to the others, “wait here.“Okay, let’s go,” Pustovalov agreed and, looking at Dasha, added, “If anything, run into the tunnel.”The men went to the station, which turned out to be not only short, but also narrow - it consisted of one platform (in place of the second there was just a wall) and only about three meters wide. Most of it was occupied by a concrete staircase leading upstairs. The hall was lit only by the marker lights on the
“Where should you not stare?”The guy looked at the door and spoke in an undertone:– If you are interested, two hours ago I was on Kurskaya and heard the shooting.- On Kursk?- The shooting itself was not on Kursk, but on the neighboring one - maybe on Komsomolskaya or somewhere else. We went to Chkalovskaya for backup batteries and you can hear there, mother don't cry.- Do you speak Komsomolskaya?- Somewhere.- And there is no way to get out of the subway?- I think it's unrealistic. All hermetic seals are closed, they weld them from the inside. They control all exits. And why choose?- And what do you suggest?- Surrender.Pustovalov and Kharitonov looked at him questioningly.“Look, you probably don't understand, but they're not enemies.– And who are they?Yes, they are being tough. But maybe there is no other way in such a situation. They save everyone, take them to a safe place.“I saw this place,” Kharitonov chuckled.Where does the tunnel lead? Pustovalov asked.- To the r
Viktor did not believe Pustovalov when he offered to take the “pot-bellied” driver with him, because he did not want to drag the guy who fed them sandwiches into trouble, and the “big-nosed”, they say, would be enough after meeting with Kharitonov’s fist. He was sure that Pustovalov had decided to take him because he roughly pushed Dasha, and recently Viktor began to notice that there was some kind of subtle connection between Pustovalov and Dasha. While it was difficult to call something definite. And not least because of the secrecy of their complex characters. Of course, this couple knew how to encrypt. But their looks, subtle intonations, body movements - all this hinted at something more than the usual mutual assistance in a difficult situation. However, Victor admitted that such suspicions were just a figment of the fantasies of his nature,The motor locomotive was obviously hastily converted for the transportation of people - they increased the boards from the boards, threw out
“Hey,” he said to the pot-bellied one, when the motor truck disappeared behind a smooth turn, “how often do motor trucks go here?”“With an interval of forty-five minutes,” the engineer replied.You knew they would be there! - Hissed Kharitonov.- No no! They can be on any platform.How fast can this thing go? Pustovalov asked.Up to thirty kilometers an hour.- Come on, speed it up.“But we will close the gap with others. You can not do it this way! It will draw attention!- Do as I say!Pot-bellied increased speed, and Kharitonov took Pustovalov to the corner of the cab.- What's happening?“I didn’t like one guy there.When the Park Kultury station appeared ahead, they did the same - slowed down and hid. Pustovalov settled down to watch. However, the station was completely empty. Here were the same massive pylons, only made of gray marble with white bas-reliefs depicting the rest of Soviet youth. There were no lamps on the pylons. Only two or three chandeliers were lit. An empty mo
As soon as the locomotive disappeared into the "blind zone", Pustovalov pulled the brake lever and shouted to Viktor to jump.Victor got down, clung to the tubing. Pustovalov's strong hands flickered in the chaotic lamplight. The empty locomotive creaked heavily and drove back, picking up speed.Victor followed him with his eyes and thought how brave it was to launch the engine towards the pursuer, completely spitting on any consequences.Pustovalov, without turning around, moved in the opposite direction, wiping his hands from nowhere with a waffle towel he had taken.“Thank you,” Victor said, rushing after him.Pustovalov ignored his gratitude.There must be a tunnel somewhere.- Farther. We drove through it.Sadness and guilt washed over Victor. He wanted to sincerely thank Pustovalov, because he again saved his life, but he did not know what to say, except for the banal “thank you”. And do I need to say something? Sadness overcame him because of parting with the girls. He liked to