All Chapters of UNDERGROUND: Chapter 91
- Chapter 100
209 chapters
91
The general raised his face to the ceiling and howled like a wolf.This time Yakov didn't notice the handset in his hand. He looked at Makarov, who was standing in the semi-darkness against the wall, under the picture of pigs besieging an ancient fortress - his face was frozen and impenetrable, like that of a wax figure or a turned off humanoid android. When Yakov looked at the general again, his gaze met ice-cold eyes.– What happened next?“Major Vindman said that he could find a passage, but for this he needs to search the corpse of a terrorist. The man had a tattoo of the Russian letters "PIM" on his wrist. There was nothing special with him, only a weapon, a folding knife and a smartphone. No documents or keys.Did the conflict happen because of him?- Yes sir. The conflict occurred when Major Vindman photographed the corpse on the phone of the murdered.- Why?“Apparently, he wanted to keep the image of the terrorist, so that later he could collect information about him. The fac
Last Updated : 2022-07-15
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Sitting in the body at the side, Pustovalov phlegmatically looked at the station with massive pylons passing by. Ever since the motor-cart got out onto the Arbatsko-Pokrovskaya line, the electric light had not left them even in the tunnel, but here on the Baumanskaya line it crumbled and multiplied into millions of reflections on the polished rocks. Toli from this extravaganza, or from the dust, one constantly wanted to close his eyes, but Pustovalov only squinted like a cat, each time choosing a new detail so as not to turn off at the most inopportune moment.From time to time he caught the questioning looks of Viktor, Dasha and even Kharitonov, but he had no answers to their questions. There were only two guards, and they stood with their backs to them at the forward side. Right in front of Pustovalov's face loomed a "zig-sauer" in the bandit style, tucked into his belt. If you grab it while pushing the giant into the lumbar region, you can easily knock out both at once, but there w
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- What! - Kharitonov jumped up, began to rummage in the box. – Where is the second bank?!And immediately guessing, he looked back at Pustovalov with a smile. He sat behind everyone, and also ate from a small jar.- Of course! How did I not guess. Well, everything is clear with him, - Kharitonov turned to Dasha, - and you? Is it lordly flair?Why have you never eaten crabs? Katya was surprised.Imagine never.- Well, you and ... simpleton. You woke up early.Dasha handed the jar to Kharitonov.- No, no, all the best to our prince and princess.– I just took the smallest jar because I don’t really want to eat.– No, first you opened a can of sprat and rejected it.“I have heartburn from tomato paste!” - Dasha began to get angry and, throwing the jar on the table, snorted contemptuously. - Get fried!“Now I recognize you,” Kharitonov laughed and grabbed the jar, “thank you, princess!”Katya also put the jar on the table.- I'm sick.- Everyone is tired.Everyone looked at Victor. He's b
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- Enough? - She heard her calm voice, as if from the side.When Dasha came out of the shower, she was trembling with excitement, and was ready for the challenges of the new reality, but the world was in no hurry to turn into a battle royale. Anyway, for now.Victor lay on the bed with his knees bent. Pustovalov also lay with his legs crossed and his hands under his head, and between them he sat on Kharitonov's bedside table, enthusiastically telling how he bought a monkey from a sailor in Novorossiysk, with the intention of reselling it in Moscow.Victor smiled, and Pustovalov laughed like a boy, screwing up his huge eyes with large irises, from which they turned into a pair of shining morions. He laughed non-stop as Kharitonov told how the red-tailed monkey threw forks at him, and then climbed into the bathroom, closed from the inside, turned on the water, squeezed out shampoos and toothpaste, tore the curtains and turned everything upside down, and then just escaped through the audi
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– Have you seen anyone?- In what sense?- Someone.Well, I've seen people. Passengers, taxi drivers...The young people looked at each other.“Did you really see them?”Or did you think you saw it?Why do you guys ask? Can I just go in?“Dasha, this is very bad,” the guy said sadly, and the fair-haired one immediately repeated:- Yes this is bad. This city is not so easy to get into.- What are you talking about, you ... - The smile froze on Dasha's face.Behind them, a dark-haired woman appeared. She recognized her immediately. If she saw these guys only as children, then she already saw this woman as an adult. Her features were not so sharp, she had grown old, but... Dasha recognized her. And the woman recognized Dasha. And Dasha was surprised to find out how these guys looked like her. The boys went to the mother, and the daughter to the father. There was neither sadness nor joy in the woman's cheeky, rough face, but only all-consuming horror. She immediately screamed.- What are
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- And during the day it was impossible to tryndet?Dasha woke up, remembering that they were not alone.Pustovalov smiled and stood up, throwing a quick but sincere glance at Dasha. As if he wanted to hold on, but failed to take control of his feelings in time. This moment was enough to understand that there is still not a one-way connection between them, and nothing that happened in the seaside cities and dungeons is able to break it.Katya followed Pustovalov, who passed by her, and before lying down again shook her head:You are the most fucked up couple I've ever seen.Dasha lay down and turned to the wall."A couple? Is it really that noticeable?***The next day was darker than the previous one. No one quarreled and did not "explode", but some kind of painful apathy seized everyone. Kharitonov constantly ate, so that his breakfast smoothly turned into lunch, then he lay down on the bed, covered himself with a pillow and snored. The girls were silent, as was Victor, staring into
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From early morning Vindman sat at his computer, immersed in the study of the life of Sergei Mikheev - as meticulously thought out and fake as the interior of his apartment. Boris believed that Mikheev played the role of an average exemplary man - a kind of invisible hero of GQ magazine, too diligently. For a better disguise, the creator of this life would do well to add a couple of small realistic touches. Trying to vomit on the hood of a police car or a bunch of parking tickets, for example. But Sergey Mikheev, a strong athletic man, carefully observed the life routine of his role: he came to work at the same time, visited a fitness center with a swimming pool three times a week, went on dates with single women of his age, visited a presentable prostitute and massage salon. He drank only beer no more than once every two weeks and no more than one mug. And yet something was knocked out of this average image. Sergei Mikheev had no friends. However, this did not surprise Vindman. Friend
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After leaving the hall, the man tried to use the busy stream to hide on the stairs. Vindman noticed he had a jacket in his hands - he must have grabbed it along the way, while Boris made his way to the exit.He walked a little faster than he was obviously used to - it was noticeable by the excessively vigorous movement of his hands, but not so much as to draw unnecessary attention to himself. Vindman also pretended to just go about his business - he did not want to scare the man and supported his game.The man looked back only once in the corridor, before going out into the hall, and, noticing Vindman, immediately shifted his gaze. Boris did not believe that the man saw him as a serious threat. Rather, he attributed it to someone who wants to talk, but not so much that he climbs out of his skin if this intention cannot be fulfilled.Vindman just didn't want to complicate things. Taking advantage of the fact that the man did not pay attention to Yakov, Boris pointed to his partner with
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Vindman clapped his hands deafeningly and laughed. Jacob smiled too. And the man winced again.- And how much does such a pleasure cost?- Double a week.Did he give you money every week?- I left it in the store room.In short, boss! - Unable to resist, Boris slapped the man on the shoulder. “Get us to your quarters and immediately.- That one?- That one!The room the grey-haired man led them into was very small, and almost two-thirds full of cabinets and shelves, on which rackets, nets and parts from mechanical tables were neatly laid out. Despite the size, there was even once a window here, judging by the radiator recessed in a niche, hidden by a wooden casing. The window itself, apparently, opened onto a pit, and had been blocked up a long time ago.– An ideal place, – noted Yakov, – no windows and cameras.The man gave him a tense look and opened the first locker. Four red rackets with hieroglyphs lay in a separate pile on the shelf.- Here.- That is, it came out at eight thous
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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
Last Updated : 2022-07-15