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UNDERGROUND 100
The nightmare disappeared into the dark corridors of the subconscious, leaving only a scream in the memory, like a pulsation of drug-blunted pain. All the senses at once let in a new reality. There was no more smell of sweat and stale underwear, the creak of sand in wet boots, dirty damp clothes, cold walls and the smell of engine oils. A clean pillowcase pleasantly cooled my left cheek, an unobtrusive breeze blew in my face, flowing from somewhere above along with the muffled voice of Nikolai Karachentsov, singing about a maple leaf. But the main thing is daylight. Yes, yes, curtains behind which are sun-drenched snowy valleys, although Pustovalov has already realized that this is just an imitation in the form of light panels.For Pustovalov, the serenity of such awakenings, possible only in a childhood unfamiliar to him, was a curiosity. And therefore he was in no hurry, enjoying the comprehension of the sacrament, although he felt persistent pressure in the region of the bladder. M
UNDERGROUND 101
- What are you? Victor was worried.- What? – Pustovalov turned his head around. On his face appeared that naive, mischievous smile that Dasha liked so much.- Whats up?- To me?- Don't push!- You're pushing. – Pustovalov returned the accusation and immediately pushed him again. Victor tried to restrain himself, but he, in the end, failed - he also smiled and pushed Pustovalov in response. In a moment, both of them burst into laughter and pushed under the displeased hiss of the “viewers” like real teenagers, which, however, was not so far from the truth.***At breakfast, everyone gathered in a small dining room, and Pustovalov saw that the “last batch” of passengers included only about thirty people. They were the most ordinary people, mostly middle-aged. There were literally enough seats, but he heard that the average party here reached two hundred people and they ate in turn.The tables were for four, Pustovalov, Dasha, Katya and Kharitonov, without saying a word, sat down at o
UNDERGROUND 102
Everyone looked at Victor, and the psychologist looked at some kind of square device that appeared in his hands.- You are well done. What is your name?– Victor.“Victor, but didn’t they scare you?”Pustovalov at that moment looked at the psychologist.“No, they didn’t scare me,” Victor chuckled, “the guy who came to my aid scared me.The man nodded.Yes, I forgot to say. He entered the car a little later and first sat between me and that girl. He took out a ballpoint pen and began to peck at his knee with it. Well, you know, he acted like a psycho. In fact, he was a psycho. He scared this girl with his strange behavior, and I talked to him a little. I wanted to calm him down so he wouldn't hurt her. And then, he left. And, in general, that's why we met.So you managed to calm him down?- Yes, he was excited, and then after we had a chat, he left."How did he scare you?"- He appeared suddenly when the gopniks grabbed my legs and turned me over. I saw…Victor was silent.– What did y
UNDERGROUND 103
The psychologist nodded.- Continue.- He had a garage. That… person. And in the garage, a special basement. He dug it for these things, put electricity in it, made reliable locks and soundproofing. We didn't know it then. There was nothing special about him. I remember only the hat and being tall. In the car in which he drove us, I saw him only from the back, because I was sitting in the back seat. Although, later, I spent twelve hours with him in a cramped room in bright light, but I still remember only his high growth. He said that we could get to the dacha of some businessman who had gone to the Canary Islands. He has real treasures there: whole boxes of Snickers and even players and a Japanese prefix. It seems like we will help him open the door, and he himself only needs "gold". My friends believed him.- You are not?By the time I understood everything, it was already too late.– When did you understand?- When we were in the garage, and a large knife appeared in his hand. He s
UNDERGROUND 104
Boris generously spread butter on a piece of bread, put a plate of Emmental cheese on top, pressed down slightly, and, twisting the created sandwich, bit off a third from the corner at once. At the same moment, his face twisted into a grimace of disgust - instead of creamy pleasure, his mouth filled with the taste of acrylic paint, a can of which stood next to the oil on the windowsill.Nevertheless, Boris chewed a piece and swallowed it. It got even more disgusting. Throwing the sandwich into the trash can, he took three long sips of black coffee and stared at Yakov, who was either sleeping or talking on the phone - reclining in an armchair and pressing his smartphone to his ear, he blinked slowly like Dmitry Medvedev at a government meeting. The clock was a quarter to four. He had been awake for almost a day.Finally, the smartphone moved to the table.“Shiburova Ayana Bachievna…” Yakov said, stumbling over every word.- What are you muttering?- One thousand nine hundred and twenty
UNDERGROUND 105
There was a knock on the window. The hard-shaven face of the security officer blocked the festive Moscow. Short silvery hair hinted at a rank no lower than a colonel. Boris rolled down the window.- Major Vindman?- He is.- To General Afanasiev!Boris never visited the general at his workplace. Now he felt like Akaky Akakiyevich, going up to the seventh floor - without exaggeration, straight into one of the "towers". Elsewhere, the accentuated old-fashionedness of the interior would have evoked irony, but here all those carpets, wood paneling, banners in glass trunks, massive doors without signs, and sleek, overweight secretaries in Armani suits that saturate the ionized air with the aromas of French perfume only enhanced the atmosphere of majesty.Vindman was struck by the abundance of men with large stars on their epaulettes in a reception room the size of an assembly hall. Boris, not without pleasure, walked past them to a double door with golden ornaments. But once in the “presid
UNDERGROUND 106
“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
UNDERGROUND 107
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
Latest Chapter
- UNDERGROUND
Epilogue
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
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209
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
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208
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,
- UNDERGROUND
207
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
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206
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
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205
- 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
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204
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
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203
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
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202
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
