Evgeny Russ - London 4019. On the Britain

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.

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."

“Well, Hans, I will do so,” – said Kim, and with a grin went off to carry out the task.

“I'm not Hans, I'm boss for you,” – said Hans, – “you get it, right?”

“Got it, boss,” – said Kim, ceasing to smile, and then hastened to leave.

Everything was ready for departure. Currant bushes were also prepared, but not yet immersed in the capsule. Hans handed the medical pistol to Arkady and said, – “Arkasha, as we load the currants, you will make the hostages an injection. Don’t throw the gun, we’ll take it with us. Everything must be done cleanly.”

Then Hans turned to Kim, – “why don't you load the currants?”

“Boss, then there will not be enough place for one person.”

“Do you know how much these two currant bushes cost?”

"I guess, boss."

"They cost like this house on the water. This is a fortune. And do you know how much your life is worth?"

“Boss, just not that,” – Kim scared.

"Do you remember Bulka at the base?"

"Yes, boss, she was delicious."

"It was my favorite dog. Do you like to eat fish?"

"Yes, boss. I did not know that you like Bulka."

“Now the fish will eat you,” – said Hans and began to take out an ultrasound bullet generator from his holster.

Kim grabbed his holster and also tried to get a bullet generator, but the intelligent drone with Kuznetsov's beam turned Kim into a motionless fried piece of meat in uniform.

“Smith, throw this piece of refried shit to the sea,” – said Hans, and he carefully began to load the currant bushes into the capsule. Having loaded the bushes, Hans sat down in a capsule at the control panel and turned on the autopilot to the base. It remains to press the ‘start’ button. Then he nodded to Arkady and Arkady proceeded to fulfill the order of Hans. He opened the first-aid kit and began to install two liquid pills with mamba poison in a medical pistol.

“Abdulla, look why Smith is busy for a long time, or help him,” – said Hans from the capsule cabin, and comfortably sitting in his chair, began to watch Arkady will give injections to the hostages. Hans always controlled the execution of his errands, and he liked to watch people being killed.

Meanwhile, Smith successfully threw Kim's body overboard. It hit the water with a noise. Making sure that the body began to sink under water, Smith turned around and saw an unknown thin man in front of him. It was Kmykh. Having received a blow to the neck, Smith lost consciousness and began to fall. Kmykh grabbed him and gently lowered him to the deck, then with a sharp movement broke his vertebras of neck. Then Kmykh got up and started moving towards the barbecue area. He had already familiarized himself with the location of the cabins and decks, and the places where the terrorists could be. His capsule Maserati was five kilometers from this house at a height of two meters from the water and two intelligent sniper drone were already in position and hovered two kilometers from the target. Their goal was two terrorist guard drones. They were waiting for Kmykh’s command and were in touch. “There are three left,” – Kmykh thought, and continued moving toward the barbecue area. Hearing the steps, Kmykh stopped. Another terrorist hurried to help Smith. It was Abdullah, who did not suspect anything. A short burst of ultrasound from the bullet generator blew Abdullah's head into small pieces. He fell on the deck just without a head.

"Two left", – thought Kmykh and gave the command to the drones – snipers.

“First and second sniper, fire!” – Said Kmykh, and turning on his reactive boots, he rose above the cabin. Before his eyes opened a barbecue area, an UAZ armored capsule and a terrorist with a medical pistol. The terrorist was at a loss and looked into Hans's eyes with a question. Nearby on the deck lay two drones with burnt smoking holes. “One needs to be left alive,” Kmykh thought, and shot to terrorist’s hand which holds a medical pistol.

Hans realized that this was an FSB operation and he needed to save his ass immediately. It was impossible to leave Arkady alive – the FSB used inhumane methods of interrogation and they could find out the location of the base. Hans was already holding a bullet generator in his hands and he did not have time for a shootout with Kmykh. Kmykh had a more advantageous position and he was already directing his bullet generator at Hans. Hans made the only right decision – he fired a short line at Arkady, who was standing nearby, and pressed the "start" button. The cabin instantly slammed shut, and the capsule jerked from its place toward the side. “First and second sniper, fire on UAZ capsule,” – Kmykh said, but it was too late. The UAZ capsule was already submerged under water. Kmykh knew that it was a terribly uncomfortable and not fast capsule, and this model could move through the air at a speed of 60 kilometers per hour, but under water its speed was 90 knots. It was a deep-sea armored model which commonly used for encashment of underwater establishments. Maserati capsule could be submerged only for two meters, and Kmykh could not pursue the terrorist.