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London 4019. On the Britain
London 4019. On the Britain
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London 4019. On the Britain

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"I work in the FSB and I am a living person."

"And is it true?"

“This is pure truth, more truthful than original of the newspaper Pravda, in the British Museum of History in Belfast.”

“Are not you lying?”

“No, my friend.”

“And what do you look like? Do you look like my virtual Alice?”

“Exactly.”

“But I myself chose the image of Alice and created in virtual designer of Yandex.”

“Yes, you have chosen and created me yourself. After that, the FSB offered me an interesting job. You know that on the planet with a population of 80 billion, there are only 126 thousand types of faces. Each of us has many doubles, but not all of them are of the same age. It was not difficult for the FSB to find me and three more identical girls like me. They chose me. They liked my intellectual abilities. And I liked yours.”

“If that's true, then I would like to see you. How about dinner together?”

“You see me now. You won’t be able to have dinner and touch me. Maybe have lunch. If you agree to work for FSB, we can have breakfast together at FSB headquarters in Liverpool. It is today that I should invite you to work with us. If you refuse, then they will replace me with the standard program in your phone. You will see the same as me, Alice, only already it will be really virtual Alice.”

“FSB know how seduce,” – said Kmykh and laughed.

“Good,” said Alice, “are you ready to listen to the working conditions?”

“Yes. I'm just unemployed.”

“Let's start with the salary. Seven sterling a week in cash or on the card as desired. This is about a thousand Britсoins per day, because all days of the week are working. You will need to complete and solve the tasks around the clock. You can get a free sleep in any red telephone cabin on the planet. Any number of paid days off per month, if this does not interfere with the next task. A prerequisite, and this is necessary for work – you will be have installed in the bone marrow of the cervical vertebra a microchip, which will to transfer your thoughts to FSB, as well as your coordinates.”

“Will this chip always convey my thoughts?”

“No, only after activation, you will need to say the phrase ‘indeed’ and the transmission of thoughts will begin. To complete the transfer and deactivate the chip, you must say ‘however’."

“That's acceptable,” – said Kmykh. – “I have already considered the proposal and I agree.”

“Say yes and you will be automatically credited.”

“Yes,” – said Kmykh.

“Well, that’s fine,” – said Alice, – “I’m waiting for you tomorrow in Liverpool at 11 o’clock for lunch in the FSB canteen. Dining room is on the sixteenth underground floor in the third building.”

“I thought you were working around the clock.”

“Yes, around the clock. But given the English traditions, now is the time of traditional sleep. Some people prefer a traditional sleep.”

“Yes, I know, poor people prefer traditional sleep.”

“No, most wealthy English people prefer to see a dream and sleep four hours a day for this. I also like tenderness of blanket. When I sleep, the program replaces me.”

“Good. If I’ve already been hired, then turn on the autopilot for the coordinates of your office in Liverpool. I need to prepare for tomorrow. After installing the sensor in the vertebra, I will need two combat drones with Kuznetsov tubes, a Maserati high-speed capsule with all the allowed heights, and something else.”

“Why such a rush?”

“I need to save Bill. He was captured by terrorists and require a geological map with all cross sections under the Royal Palace to depth of eight kilometers.”

“Is this not Bill Umbarle, chief geologist at British Geology?”

“Yes, he is. You are erudite.”

“Turn on autopilot, Eugene. Fasten seat belt.”

“All right, Alice, stay in touch,” – Kmykh said and fastened his four-point seat belt. The Renault-Dandy capsule smoothly rose to the allowed height and accelerated towards Liverpool.

“Alice,” – said Kmykh, – “now put the two combat guard drones to Impolite Reznik, the Company's deputy chief geologist, and tell him that he is forbidden to go to work the next two days. Mandatory home mode for two days.”

“Hockey, Eugene, I’ll send an employee with two drones to London now. Anything else?”

“In the area of 300 miles from London we need to find the coordinates of the houseboat. I know that this is not a new house, model R-118. There is now Bill Umbarle with his wife and five terrorists. That's all for now” – said Kmykh and pulled out of the glove box without an excise cigarette, which he bought from a huckster on the pier. Renault – Dandy was not a speed capsule and Kmykh had enough time to smoke a cigarette before arriving in Liverpool.

Spanish guitar

At 11 a.m. Kmykh was already fully prepared for the operation, as he believed. Lounging in the chair of the Maserati capsule, he was waiting for a call from Bill. In the cabin there was one battle drone and two drones were in the luggage compartment. At 11:05 a bell rang.

“Hello, Bill.”

“Yes! Hello Ippolite! How are you? Got the files?”

“Yes, it's 736 yottabytes on a flash drive. Bring to yours apartment?”

“No, I sent my courier. Go down to the Fidel Metro station, at the Savmak station, near the statue of Savmak wait for him. He will recognize you if you are in our Company’s baseball cap.”

“Okay boss. In about 10 minutes I will be at the station.”

Kmykh flew up on Savmak Square and down into the Sobyaner and Sons parking lot.

“Sir,” the parking attendant said, “you have to get out of the cab.”

“I won’t have to,” said Kmykh and put his right hand ring against the parking scanner. An image of the royal coat of arms appeared on the scanner.

“Sorry, sir,” the parking man said.

“Your ID?”

“Sir, write down, I'll say.”

“I'll remember,” said Kmykh and listened to the twenty-digit parking attendant number.

“Lower me to the level of Savmak Metro station. I will get off the subway. I will be there for a while. Then I will return and let you know that you will raise me to the surface in a capsule.”

“By all means, sir,” – said the parking attendant and turned on the carousel.

Kmykh left the parking lot at the Metro level, walked along a short corridor, leaned the FSB ring against the lock door and then went to Savmak station. Near the statue of Savmak Kmykh looked at passers-by and at people waiting capsule vehicles of Metro. While he waiting, a street musician came up to him with a guitar and asked for some money for food. Kmykh put two Britcoins in his empty tin jar of beans. On the musician’s head was a sombrero and a traditional Mexican poncho hung from his shoulders.

“Now put the flash drive here,” the musician said with a confident voice, “then you will go to the platform and sit in any first capsule.”

The musician raised the poncho and put his right hand on the handle of the ultrasound induction bullet generator of the UZI model. His left hand was still outstretched with empty tin jar of natural beans.

Scotland Yard police quickly responded to Kmykh’s actions, and a minute later a few meters above his head Kmykh heard the words of a police officer.

“Don't move! Put your hands on your head!” – ordered the police officer.

Kmykh raised his hands and head. It was a woman officer and in her hands was a Kuznetsov’s tube. She hung in the air at a height of three meters. She was wearing jet boots and a Gauss protective vest absorbing induction bullets.

“FSB officer,” – said Kmykh, – “certificate is in my ring.”

“Lean the ring to scanner,” – said the police officer and threw a plastic scanner card under Kmykh’s feet.

Kmykh leaned the ring to scanner, and a hologram with a royal coat of arms appeared in front of the officer. There was no name and identification number, which meant that any police officer was required to provide any assistance to this FSB officer. The woman put Kuznetsov’s tube in a holster, descended down on the stone floor of the station and offered hers help. On the floor was a man with a Mexican appearance and a broken arm in his elbow joint. Both of his legs and an unbroken right arm were pulled together by guitar strings. On the neck there was also a stranglehold of a guitar string. Nearby lay a broken-up guitar made of wood.

"Is he alive?" – She asked.

"Yes, he is unconscious. Painful shock. A stretcher is needed to take it to my capsule in the parking mine,” – Kmykh said.

The officer touched her bracelet and contacted her police department. “The Fidel Castro Metro, Savmak Station, requires a stretcher without an orderly near the statue of Savmak,” – she said.

“Estimated time of arrival about one minute and ten seconds,” – the department informed.

A minute later, the anti-gravity stretcher of the Red Cross municipal service arrived along the air corridor allocated to them along the ceiling of the station. The stretcher slowed down at the statue of Savmak, and sank near the officer’s feet. Kmykh put the terrorist body on the stretcher, took them by the control handle and raised them to the level of the belt, convenient for transportation.

“Thanks for the help, officer. Have a nice day,” – Kmykh said, and set off transporting the stretcher toward the locking door along the corridor to the parking shaft. These were standard stretchers with a control handle and a return button to the medical base. Having thrown the body of the terrorist into the luggage boot of the capsule, Kmykh sent a stretcher to the base of the Red Cross and dialed the number of the parcing attendant. While the Maserati capsule was rising through the shaft of the carousel, Kmykh appeal to Alice.

“Hi, Alisa.”

“Hello, hello, Eugene.”

“I have terrorist in the luggage boot. Prepare medical preparations for interrogation. I'll be in Liverpool in twenty minutes.”

“Okay, Eugene. We have some bad news. Ippolite Reznik is kidnapped. Our employee, who took Reznik under protection, is killed, and two security drones are destroyed. External surveillance cameras show that he voluntarily siting in UAZ capsule. This morning he was in the GKZ library and received files for work. Video surveillance was lost at the pier number 1756 where the capsule of the terrorists went under water.”

"It is bad news. I am heading to pier 1756. Do we have a hangar on this pier?"

"Yes, there is garage under inscription 'Diagnostics of parking anchors of all models'."

"Thanks, Alice. Turn autopilot on these coordinates."

"Already included. In touch."

Four minutes later, Kmykh was already at the pier, and the Maserati capsule smoothly entered the garage gates just opened by Alice. Kmykh lowered the capsule to the concrete floor, stepped out of it and went to the luggage boot. Opening it, he saw a body that was already conscious and writhed in pain. Kmykh dumped the body onto the concrete floor. Then he took a medical pistol and two liquid pills from the glove compartment. Inserting an anesthetic pill into the gun, he leaned it against the terrorist's shoulder and fired. The terrorist instantly felt better, and Kmykh noticed relief in his eyes. Then Kmykh inserted a second liquid pill. It was the strongest drug for interrogation.

“Now you will tell me the coordinates of the houseboat where your friends are terrorists. If you refuse, I will give you the Trichlorechinococcus-18 injection and you will tell everything yourself. This drug shortens life, but under its influence you will tell absolutely everything, whatever I ask. After its use, usually no one lives longer than 150 years.”

In response, Kmykh heard a selective swearing, which was borrowed from the Old Russian language. Kmykh, without hesitation, leaned a medical pistol against the neck of a terrorist and fired. After a minute, the terrorist's pupils dilated and filled with blood, and Kmykh realized that it was already possible to ask questions.

"The coordinates yours friends on houseboat, please, and your identification number."

The terrorist gave the coordinates and his number. The terrorist’s eyeballs were inflated and were ready to burst, but he did not feel pain.

“Fine,” said Kmykh, “now tell us the coordinates of your base.”

The terrorist wanted to say something, but his eyeballs burst, and eye fluid and blood plasma flowed onto the concrete. After a second, the terrorist froze.

"Alice, look at his ID number his age. Out of time, he kicked a bucket."

"He was 162 years old. In this age, in any case, he would not have survived after Trichlorechinococcus-18."

"Well, you heard the coordinates. I'm flying out. Please open the gate."

Kmykh sat in the capsule and scored the coordinates. The garage door opened automatically, the Maserati capsule smoothly left the garage and set off with acceleration to the open sea. Kmykh chose a height of 14 meters above the sea, which was reserved for FSB.

Currant

The houseboat R-118 drifted two hundred miles from London. Hans von Bender stepped out of the cabin and headed for the barbecue area. Before ten meters, he called Abdullah on duty there. Abdullah jumped up from a deck chair and went to the boss.

“Abdullah,” said Hans, “that's all. We must leave. Impolite Reznik is already at the base with all information.”

“And what to do with these both?”

“Accident, they are poisoned by beer. Perhaps a robbery – we will take two bushes of currant. Bring mamba's poison from UAZ. Or the best drag the whole medicine brief-bag. Have you drunk all the beer?”

“A couple of cans still seem to be left.”

“Pour from each jar and drop two drops in each, then put it on the table to the hostages.”

“And they will drink?”

“No, boob! I will inject them with injections. There is a medical pistol in the medicine brief-bag. Put on gloves.”

“Good, Hans, I get it.”

"Well, go and do it! What do you wait?"

Abdulla turned and headed for the UAZ hovering near board. Meanwhile, Hans went to the wheelhouse, where the rest of the bandits played cards.

“Arkady,” – said Hans, “put on the gloves, wipe details of the drone and assemble it back. He is anyway deactivated.”

“Smith, drive capsule onto the deck to the barbecue area. We will leave,” – said Hans and then turned to Kim.

"Kim, dig up two bushes of currant and prepare for loading it in UAZ. And look, if the soil is natural, then it also needs to be taken along with the bushes."