LITMIR.BIZ

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you probably don't understand who you're talking to," said Sledgehammer and approached Oleg at arm's length. Sledgehammer was half a head taller and once again felt his superiority.

      "Well, Sledgehammer, why do you talking to him? Hit him between his eyes," Lame intervened in the conversation, standing three meters to the right of Sledgehammer.

      "Lame, did I let you to speak?" slightly turning the body to the right asked Sledgehammer. And instantly from this position, he made a blow his Crown Knocking Hook on the right. But before Sledgehammer's fist reached its goal, as at this very moment, Sledgehammer felt a sharp pain in the left temporal bone below the temple. How Sledgehammer was falling, he could not remember. Sledgehammer usually was able to withstand the blows, but now he came to his senses only in a minute. Slowly rising, Sledgehammer found the enemy by his eyes, but did not hurry to move towards him. As if from afar he could hear the screams and curses of Fix. And Fix at the same time held the pistol on his outstretched hand in the direction of the Oleg. Oleg was completely calm, and this made Fix even more nervous. Then Oleg began to slowly raise his hands to the top to the level of his shoulders and slowly approach Fix. "And where were they only taught to hold the pistol on his outstretched hand?" thought Oleg, moving closer to Fix and depicting his own defeat.

      "Probably he taught from movies, Hollywood," thought Oleg and spoke loudly and calmly, "you won, you're a tough guy!"

      The gun rested against Oleg's forehead. In such situations, Oleg were more than once, and not only in training, but also in real combat operations, while serving in hot spots and in the intelligence battalion. "You won, you're a tough guy," once again heard Fix, and at that very moment, there was a lot of pain in the brush area, and also suddenly his own gun pointed at his left eye appeared in the face. Fix looked at the muzzle of the gun and realized the futility of his life, which would take several grams of lead. Fix knew perfectly well what a shot head looked like, and with horror presented his own head with an inlet and an exit aperture of a bullet.

      "When my brains will fly apart, where will I be?" thought Fix. He began to retreat to the door and tried to say something like "do not shoot," but he could not find the words. Then Oleg unnoticeably turned the lever of the safety lock, since he did not intend to shoot, and habitually lowered the gun to his hip at the level of the belt. He was in some confusion too.

      "Put the knife on place," Oleg said quietly. Fix complied. Returning the knife, Fix felt better.

      "Now he will not kill," realized Fix.

      Usually, Oleg killed the enemy in any convenient way for himself and had moved to a certain point on the map. Now, he could not kill his enemies and quit his business – at home wife and little daughter waiting for him.

      Sledgehammer disturbed the pause, "everything in the car! He clearly ordered, and, continuing to retreat to the exit, extended his index finger in the direction of Oleg.

      "You're cadaver," Sledgehammer confidently said to Oleg and, without looking back, moved with his comrades to the car.

      "Get behind the wheel," – said Sledgehammer to Lame, "you're the chauffeur today."

      "Where we go?" Lame asked.

      "To your home," Sledgehammer replied, "we need to think about," he added, and sat down in the backseat.

      Oleg returned to his small office at the end of the trading floor. All this time the young saleswoman-cashier Svetlana was hiding there. She was terribly frightened. Before the visit of suspicious guests, which Oleg saw in the monitor of a street surveillance camera, he invited Svetlana into the office and asked to stay there for a while. Now, seeing the monitor that the uninvited guests have left, Oleg Vladimirovich said, "Svetlana Vitalyevna, you are clever, did not utter a word. Now you can go home and tomorrow you have a paid day off. Remember, you did not see anything and did not hear, you had a break, and you sat in headphones and listened music. This is in case the cops have any questions."

      "Okay, Oleg Vladimirovich. Can I go?"

      "Yes, of course, Svetlana, and do not worry, everything will be fine."

      Oleg was a debtor of the bank "Narodny", with a loan and high interest. The store was rented by Khlipko in his name, with the right of subsequent repurchase from the construction company ‘Volga-Stroy Invest’, owned by Mr. Dobronravov, who simultaneously dealt with affordable housing as a deputy of the Tver City Duma. In Oleg's office, there was a desk with a computer, two armchairs, a monitor for two hidden surveillance cameras, operating in continuous recording mode, an electric kettle and several cups. Oleg took a small towel, carefully wiped Makarov pistol Makarov, and quickly disassembled it into small parts, while wiping every detail of the gun, putting all the details in a common heap in the center of the towel. When he had finished, he wrapped the details in a towel and put it in the briefcase.

      Then he took out a sheet of A-4 and wrote a handwritten statement about his finding details which looked like a details of pistol. – A statement to the Police department? – Oleg thought about the cap of the statement. – No! He would have to walk across the bridge, but the Police department was on this side of the Volga. So it's on the way to the Prosecutor's Office across the bridge.

      Oleg was an inconspicuous lean man and did not arouse suspicion among the cops, he put on his jacket without wasting time and left. Closing the door, Oleg lowered the jalousies by remote control and moved toward the River Station along the waterfront. It was getting dark. Turning to the bridge and passing a few meters in the center of the bridge over the river, Oleg took out a towel from the briefcase with the details, stopped and threw the details into the Volga River. Then he crumpled the towel and threw it following into the river too.

      "The next affair tomorrow," thought Oleg, and leisurely went home, where his wife, daughter, and cherry pie were already waiting.

      In the meantime, Lame had already uncorked a bottle of vodka and poured in little glasses.

      "For some reason, I do not want to drink," Sledgehammer said and tipped little glass to his throat.

      "And what is the reason of drink?" Fix asked.

      "For commemorate your pistol Makarov," Lame said, and laughed.

      "It's good that the pistol was left for dude," said Sledgehammer, turning to Fix, "I gave you gun to you get rid of it, but not for your cakewalk two weeks with it."

      "It would be nice if the cops make a search in the store of a dude and find a gun," Lame said, wrapping a cigar with marijuana.

      "And will you going inform to cops or who will do it?" Sledgehammer asked, looking at Lame.

      "You have the ace among the cops there, the cop whom you saved," hinted Lama, lit a bush and took a deep dragged on.

      "So, I didn't understand, do you suggesting me to blow the whistle?" Sledgehammer asked.

      Lame, coughed, he realized that he said too much. This conversation could be end badly for him. He had been selling drugs for a long time in the district and enjoyed authority, only because he was often seen in the company with Sledgehammer.

      "No," said Lame, clearing his throat with cough, "I mean that you shot Chub with Elephant, and did not touch the cop, although he saw you."

      "Well, he did not inform the cops about, as we agreed, but now he tosses information to me. When I shot the bastards, I did not know that they had a cop attached to a chair in another room. What? Did I have to kill the innocent, just because he's a cop?" asked Sledgehammer.

      Lame, trying to change the topic of the conversation continued, "So it was not without reason as he was tied to a chair and tortured. The money not found still. The TV said that all the criminals were killed while robbing the bank, and then garbage said that the two criminals managed to leave. So may be Chub and Elephant were these bastards, and they just have the money stashed away? And you killed them, and everyone knows about it. On the street, people say that you have money, and everyone knows that you have killed these freaks."

      "Knows everything, but can't to prove it," said Sledgehammer, "you're not only lame, and you're also stupid as all the nares. Look, if the Chub and Elephant had this money, they would be tortured in the police. And here just the opposite is obtained – they themselves tortured garbage and wanted to know something.

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