LITMIR.BIZ

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body. Rather, the body had the shape of a whirlwind expanding to the center of the body.

      "Very pleased," Matilda answered, and she introduced herself too, "I heard that you are the owner Company 'Volga-Stroy Invest'. So how can I help you?"

      "Evil tongues say so, I'm only a deputy and servant of the people," Dobronravov said, and began to look for a place where he could drop his heavy body.

      "Sit on the couch, please," suggested Matilda.

      "Thank you," said Dobronravov, and, sitting down, continued, "I'm interested in office real estate."

      "Unfortunately, I do not have such real estate, except for my office," said Matilda, then for some reason she returned to the table with her smooth and confident gait, took a powder compact with a mirror from the table, opened it and lightly powdered her nose. Then she closed the box, took her business card, and approached the servant of the people with such graceful and unhurried gait so close that he had to look at Matilda from the bottom up. Matilda handed him her business card with the words, "I can give you my office, and it will be cost you five to six times more than similar offices in this quarter. There is a lot of parking space in front of the office, and most importantly, the building of the Regional Administration is nearby. Not everyone can buy such a neighborhood."

      Arnold Veniaminovich looked at Matilda without taking his eyes off her. Matilda smiled and asked, "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

      Dobronravov was silent and wanted to say something, but Matilda added, "I think that for such man as you, this money will not be of much importance. I think you are the man who knows how to make money and get what he wants as a result."

      "Well, I'll think about it," said Dobronravov, "now I need to go, we'll have coffee next time, will not we?"

      "I'll be glad to see you," Matilda said, and smiled at him again.

      Saying goodbye, Arnold Veniaminovich was going to leave, but Matilda, instead of words of farewell, said, "Only in this case, I will remain without office and without work. I have to leave this beautiful city to Moscow. There I had suggestions for work in the Ministry of Finance. I'll graduate this year from the All-Russian Correspondence Financial Economic Institute and the teachers have already recommended me as the best student of the course to my colleagues in the Ministry of Finance. It is a pity to leave this city. I liked it so much!"

      "Well, I'll think about it, too," said Dobronravov and left.

      A man in a black suit, waiting Dobronravov at the door, went to the car and opened the door to the servant of the people. The servant of the people sank into the car seat and now his thoughts were not about the company 'Volga-Stroy Invest', but about his people, and specifically about this cute, intelligent and sincere girl with the figure of Aphrodite. Dobronravov fell in love with Matilda like a schoolboy. All day he caught himself thinking that he only thinks about her.

      Even late at night, falling asleep, Dobronravov decided that he could use Matilda in his company 'Volga-Stroy Invest' and could invite her to the position of the general director, not lower, but it is necessary to limit its functions and duties. "Moreover, there is an executive director who will sign all the necessary documents, including those that Matilda will not have to see," the servant of the people thought, falling asleep with thoughts of his people.

      Sledgehammer.

      Sledgehammer was furious. One beginner merchant refused to pay tribute.

      "Lame," Sledgehammer asked, "and did you politely explain to the huckster, who is the boss in Zavolzhsky district? And tell me, how did he knock you out with one blow?"

      "He is rabid," answered Lame, "it is impossible to talk with him. He must be just beaten."

      "Indeed? You've already beaten him, I see," Sledgehammer smirked, "and what's the name of store?"

      "Everything for fishing and hunting," Lame replied.

      Sledgehammer pulled a new Glock 17 out of his pocket, took out the store and stared stupidly at the cartridges.

      "Call out Fix," said Sledgehammer, "I do not want to kill anyone, we'll go parrot the boy."

      At the same time, Sledgehammer returned the magazine to the clip and hid the gun in the inside pocket of the jacket.

      After half an hour a tinted jeep with three daredevils rolled along the embankment of the Volga River, making a couple of turns, and stopped sharply near the new store "Everything for fishing and hunting". At the entrance to the store the group stopped – Sledgehammer was interested in a sign near the door.

      "Literacy for that is – to read signboard very ease," said Sledgehammer, quoting the Russian poet Mayakovsky. Behind his shoulders were the full 10 classes of Soviet high school. "Entrepreneur Khlipko O.V." read aloud Sledgehammer.

      "Well, let's go and see what this Khlipko is like," said Sledgehammer with a smirk, and, feeling a surge of energy, went with the comrades inside the store.

      "Just don't fire unnecessarily, you have the iron fist, ram him between his horns once," Lame said, trying to not show out the fright.

      "Not pee in pants, Lame, we'll just talk. And you, Fix, don’t touch the gun," Sledgehammer turned to his second comrade, "if need be I'll pull out."

      Entering the store, Fix silently looked around, spit out the chewing gum on the floor and said, "Where is this flimsy guy?"

      Then, seeing the one old visitor of the store, Fix said, "hey, Antiques, the store closed for tax audit, get out."

      "Fix, you didn't have been learned the politeness to talking with old men?" Sledgehammer said indignantly. Then he went up to old man, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse him, sir, this dude is crazy. Do you want to buy something for fishing?"

      "No, I just went to look, a light expensive here," said old man and slowly went out.

      There were posters, fishing tackles on the walls, tents, sleeping bags, inflatable boats and various utensils on the shelves, hand-made hunting knives was lying under glass showcase. It was knives with multilayered steel with embossed leather covers to them. Sledgehammer was examining the knives and only now noticed the little dude about thirty-five years old, coming out of the cabinet. This was an entrepreneur Oleg Khlipko.

      "Hello," said Oleg Viktorovich, "how can I help you?"

      Oleg and Sledgehammer's views met. Sledgehammer, as an experienced boxer, instantly appreciated the opponent.

      "He is sinewy and swift," thought Sledgehammer, "the second average weight, the protruding joints of his fists identified him as a fist fighter. No wondered he knocked out the Lame with one blow."

      However, feeling his superiority in weight, growth and the number of battles conducted in the ring and street, Sledgehammer did not confuse the calm and confident eye look of the store's owner.

      "Are you asking how to help? By money," Sledgehammer answered cheerfully, and he and his companions began to laugh loudly.

      "Are you from the Bank?" Oleg Viktorovich asked.

      "From the bank ‘Sledgehammer’," said Lame and everyone giggle again.

      Oleg looked at Lame and recognized in him today's visitor, which had tried to extort the money. "It's good that them is not from the Bank," Oleg thought, and this calmed him even more.

      "Good humor," Oleg said, not hiding his joy, "but what concretely did you want?"

      "For short," Sledgehammer began his speech, "you will give me money every month for our man. Just if you want your business work and make a profit. You'll pay to us, we provide your safety. If you pay regularly, you will not have the visitors from epidemiological service, firemen, cops or other bastards. How much will you pay – we'll now determine," looking at the goods, finished his speech Sledgehammer.

      Fix took out his pistol, smashed the glass showcase with a handle, and took the knife he liked in an embossed leather cover. "A good knife, thank you, bastard," said Fix, and smile.

      "It's not funny anymore. It's sad," said Oleg Viktorovich to Sledgehammer and continued, "you will no need money, the Ambulance will come for free."

      "Dude,

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