╔════════════════════════ ═══════════════════ ═══════════════════╗ ║ Agent 008 ║ ╙─────────────────────────────── ───────────────────────────────╜ CHAPTER 3 James Bond is captured. The next morning at exactly 9.23 Vasily Petrovich Shchukin approached to the "Juice and Water" kiosk on the station square. Yesterday's paper there wasn't. She was replaced by another: “The kiosk is closed. The seller is sick husband." Shchukin blew his nose noisily into a snow-white handkerchief, carefully put it in the back pocket of his trousers and drove back to the street Overfulfillment. This time he was luckier. After about an hour and a half he saw in front of him a half-meter-long number 14, carefully written out painted white on the wall of another five-story building. The spy repeated the password to himself again, found apartment 272 and gave one short and two long calls. A stranger appeared on the threshold a handsome man wrapped in a woman's sundress. - I’m from Ernst Eduardovich. Do you need to upholster the door? - a lot - Shchukin said significantly. “My dear!” the man burst into a smile. “Of course he does.” Xia! Wow, what luck! I've been looking for a master for two months, but he himself appeared! A man in a sundress grabbed the saboteur by the sleeveand dragged into apartment. Shchukin frowned. He expected to hear from the owner at all other words. “Did he forget the review, or what?” the spy thought worriedly and just in case, he repeated: - I’m from Ernst Eduardovich... “God bless him,” the man waved him off, changing clothes. “We’ll do it without you.” let's agree... “What, isn’t this house 14, building 8?” asked Shchukin, nothing, except for twitching his cheek, without betraying his excitement. “No,” the man smiled cheerfully. “This is house 8, building 14.” “Sorry,” Vasily Petrovich said dryly and turned to leave. But the man was at the door in two leaps and blocked his way. gu. - I won’t let you in! I've been waiting for so long! You should go to me towards. I'll pay you well. - Contact the consumer services plant, - irritably Shchukin noted. - I did! They promise to send a specialist only in three month. But I can't wait that long. My wife and I are going on vacation. “I can’t help you,” the spy shook his head. “Let me go.” I'm in a hurry. But the man grabbed the door frame even tighter. - No! No! No way! If you leave, I, ...I will come to you myself this is your house 14 and I will talk to those people to whom you sent you cry. They must understand that I really need this. Let them they'll wait a little. The saboteur began to threateningly advance on the owner of the apartment. - What? - What you heard! I... I will finally declare where to- blowing!Why can you do a favor for some, but not for others? Vasily Petrovich powerlessly dropped his hands. Not enough yet just so that the appearance is known where it should be! “But... I don’t have the material,” the spy said conciliatoryly. “Don’t worry about it,” the man rejoiced. “The material is me yours. “And I didn’t take the instrument,” Shchukin said in a fallen voice. “We’ll find it,” the owner of the unbroken door consoled him. “I’ve been I prepared everything. Agent 008 hiccupped pitifully, took off his jacket and got to work. B spy school didn't teach how to upholster doors, so things progressed not very controversial. He finished it only in the evening. “I’m very grateful to you,” the happy ho-ho started fussing around him. Zyain. Here's to you for your efforts. Now let me introduce you to my neighbor... Sergei Moiseevich, come here, don’t be shy. Here the master I told you about: imagine, he was looking for house 14 building 8, but came to us. I barely persuaded him. “Hello,” the neighbor bowed. “I’d like to get off the bike.” sweep the floors... “Are you crazy?” Shchukin was indignant. “I don’t care about this.” I'm toiling! “Well, I ask you,” Sergei Moiseevich put his hand to his chest. - Don’t ask, I won’t anyway! - Do you think that in house 14 you will be paid more? - penetratingly - the neighbor asked clearly. “So you’re mistaken.” “I don’t think anything,” he was furious, driven to white heat. spy.- Leave me alone! Why are you mocking the working man!- By the way, I can also tell you where to go about your le- your earnings, - Sergei, informed by his neighbor, threatened Moiseevich. “They’ll fail to show up, bloodsuckers!” James Bond thought in despair and said wearily: - Do you have a tool?.. ...Shchukin was not allowed out of the house for a week. Fearing failure, he... grumblingly scraped the floors of the residents, cut locks, drilled holes in walls. But every time between nine and ten o'clock in the morning a spy took a break and went to the station kiosk. And every time I saw a new ad there. Short and formal "Accounting" reproachful, suggestive of unwashed hands and nests - microbes in them “Sanitary day”, the familiar “Soon du", self-confident and arrogant "Closed". Vasily Petrovich shook his head offendedly, taking his soul away from the merchant to an ice cream lady nearby and dragged himself back to his place. Agent 008 turned out to be a capable worker, and the residents of the fourteenth corps he enjoyed no less respect than his own the bosses are there, behind the cordon. Residents trusted him with any work and knowledge that he won't let you down. But when one day some young woman na, who was leaving for a visit, instructed Shchukin to babysit her minor child and threatened that otherwise she would tell him where to go next. blows, James Bond's iron nerves could not stand it. “Get this turnout to hell!” he said to himself. goodliterary Russian language, picked up by the inseparable something- danchik and started running as fast as he could, never to return to Overfulfillment Street. ...Having reached the opposite end of the city, the saboteur stopped He curled up to catch his breath and sat down on a bench. To calm down and came to his senses, he began to count what he had earned by honest labor money - and gasped. It turned out that his weekly earnings in the fourteenth building was almost three times the monthly salary saboteur of the highest category. “Shouldn’t I quit?” thought Shchukin, but quickly drove him away thought about it, hid the money so that he could transfer it upon his return them to a Swiss bank, and again began to carry out his spies his duties... CHAPTER 4. Shchukin corrects the password. From afar, Vasily Petrovich saw that the "Juice and Water" kiosk open. Shchukin came closer and looked around. There were no buyers but ten steps from the kiosk stood a thin, poorly shaven man in a gray hat. He held his hand in his bosom, as agreed. Vasily Petrovich straightened his handkerchief, with an indifferent look the house approached the window and said affably: - Auntie, I’m thirsty - I’m dying! Pour me three glasses of soda... ki... “There’s no soda,” the saleswoman yawned. - Thenlemonade... “Even more so!” the saleswoman waved it off. - What about mineral? Borjom, Narzan? “What,” the saleswoman was surprised. “What’s here, a pharmacy or what?” “Okay,” agreed Shchukin, “pour some beer.” The saleswoman began to lose her temper: - Did you come from America? James Bond turned so pale that his gold teeth began to look silver. “Damn it, they tracked me down!” the thought flashed. “Really This saleswoman is from the KGB! We must run!" But the saleswoman could not calm down. - Beer for him! Have you seen it? Yes, I had a beer for the last time the year before last they brought it in a year! and that's only ten boxes... “Okay, sister, don’t be offended,” he said with relief. agent. I don't care about beer! What do you have there?.. “I should have said so right away,” said the saleswoman and put down ed spy a bottle of vodka. - Weigh the herring? “Hm,” Vasily Petrovich was slightly taken aback, “isn’t there anything weaker?” “Only vinegar essence,” muttered the saleswoman, weighing a rusty herring with someone else's tail stuck to it. “Give me a glass,” Vasily Petrovich nodded to the saleswoman. - We don’t release it into the spill... Shchukin sighed and took out a portable spy device from his suitcase. glass with a double bottom and glanced sideways at the man in the hat. Their eyes met. The man looked at Vasily Petrovich to he went around the corner. “He’s in too much of a hurry,” Shchukin frowned. “Maybe he’s a provocateur?” He stuck it in pocket bottle andclutched a ballpoint pen in his hand, loaded curare poison. It was enough to write on a person with such a fountain pen. century, two or three words, as he, in terrible agony, began to convulsively itch. Vasily Petrovich unscrewed the cap of the pen and slowly approached the man. "If he tells me the password before I drink three glasses, - I’m writing all over his face,” the saboteur decided cynically. The man was coming closer and closer... Between them there was five meters... four... three... They looked at each other without stopping on a friend. The man moved closer, took his hand out from his bosom and asked hoarsely: - Will you be third? James Bond squeezed the fountain pen in his hands so that he almost wrote his own finger, and turned away arrogantly. He approached again kiosk and slowly, observing the rules of good manners, intelligent Gently drank three glasses of vodka. Something clicked in my head, jumped up and began to rotate slowly. Shchukin had such a rumor that dancing had started there. He narrowed one eye and the other Gim looked carefully into the bottle. It seemed to him that inside a fly sits. “Ugh, drunkard!” said Shchukin reproachfully at one of the eight our languages, which I suddenly stopped speaking. The spy opened the second swarm of eyes The fly disappeared. Vasily Petrovich shrugged his shoulders and, to resolve his doubts, raised the bottle to his lips and drank the rest straight from the bottle... - No fly. I imagined it - satisfiednoticed in Esperanto Shchukin and threw the empty bottle onto the pavement. Suddenly a sharp voice rang out in my ear: - Do you know where you can buy juice?.. “Brother!” Vasily Petrovich interrupted enthusiastically. “Darling!” Don't know! But I can... - Shchukin faltered. He forgot how it would be in Russian "Polish cuisine". - I can... I can... give you a loop floors... Agent 008 paused and, sliding down to the ground, added in Thai: - Let me kiss you... I was so lonely... My darling... given. CHAPTER 5 Duel Shchukin woke up in an unfamiliar entrance. It smelled like cats and vinegar. “Did I really drink the essence after all?” he thought anxiously, feeling shaking himself with his hands. - The stomach seems to be in place, everything else is - same. The only thing missing is the right shoe. What did I have hidden there? hidden under the insole?.. Codes?.. No, the codes were in the suitcase... By the way, there is no suitcase either... But what was in the shoe? Yeah, I remembered: three mines with a clock mechanism... It’s a pity, of course... but... It would be better if the left shoe disappeared. There's only a folding machine gun, Yes, worm eggs, which the boss ordered to throw to the chief engineer plant unless he agrees to work for us." Vasily Petrovich got up, groaning, went out into the street and began to look crawl into a gasoline puddle. Then he turned his gaze tomy barefoot, blue leg. The poisoned nail was broken, and above the ankle The trays bore the prints of someone's dirty fingers. “Well, just wait!” muttered Shchukin, carefully tied this place handkerchief so as not to accidentally damage the prints and hobbled towards information desk. Turnouts were now out of the question. We had to start everything from started. By evening, he rented a suitable apartment from an advertisement. two exits and a telephone. The hostess, seeing the ragged Shchukin, I asked for it inexpensively. However, now he was no longer Shchukin. Since the passport is fell along with the suitcase, James Bond decided to use the spare legend. Now he was called Pyotr Vasilyevich Karasev, co- collector of folk songs and tales, specialist in urban folklore The spy brought things from the storage room, transferred prints toes from his right foot onto a special composition, packed in half a liter jar and went to bed. The next day he had an important task ahead of him. Agent 008 decided use the last chance. According to the bosses given to him instructions, he had the right, in case of emergency, alone once a month, on the seventeenth from ten to eleven in the morning call 3-0316 and get in direct contact with the resident vol. The next day was the seventeenth. According to a long-established habit Karasev woke up at two minutes to ten, pulled the TV towards him. background apparatus anddialed the desired number. The hour was heard on the phone those beeps. “That’s strange,” he said. “It shouldn’t be busy at this time.” He I tried to connect again. Now to the phone to another No one came to the end of the line. Pyotr Vasilievich waited five minutes, pressed the lever and started turning the disk again. Karasev managed to connect for the seventh time. “Hello,” a leisurely bass voice was heard in the receiver. “Who do you want?” “Be kind to Innokenty Perputyevich,” the saboteur said. “Stop these jokes, Kolka, otherwise I’ll punch you in the face,” he said angrily. The owner of the bass answered and hung up. Pyotr Vasilyevich angrily spat on the phone, then sat I thought, wiped the spit off with my sleeve and started calling again. Three times he ended up in kindergarten, four times - no one knows where, but not there, where needed, and once, as if in mockery, they connected him with the prosthetic clinic, which hurt the spy’s pride. He clinked his gold teeth and wanted to drink valerian, but because of of strong emotional agitation, he mixed up and dropped some cyanide on himself potassium, a bottle of which they gave him outside the cordon just in case. Bond realized his mistake only at the last moment and deflated rivers into the garbage chute. There were only fifteen minutes left until eleven. Peter Vasil- Yevich pulled himself together with trembling hands and dialed the desired number again. “I want Innokenty Pereputevich,” Karasev said defiantly. - He's at the station, -A female voice answered affably. “Which area?” the spy didn’t understand. But at this time they were killed. Intercity intervened in the conversation Nya. - Did you order Bobruisk? “What kind of Bobruisk?” Pyotr Vasilievich flared up. “I don’t know anything.” ordered. - Why didn’t you order? Your number is 6-55-82? “Nothing like that,” Karasev barked, “not a single similar figure!” - Then excuse me... Persistent, like a part-time student with many children, agent 008 again I decided to call. - Ask Innokenty to transfer.. “You will talk to Bobruisk,” she cut him off categorically intercity. “No, I won’t,” the thin voice of a rooster, broken from anger, com shouted the spy. “Why,” the telephone operator was surprised. - I don’t want and don’t want to, hang up! It was three minutes to eleven on the clock. “It’s not true, I’ll get through to you,” the saboteur muttered through his teeth. “Neda— They called me “Iron Joe” at school. - Please Innoken... “Bobruisk is on the line,” the telephone operator announced in the tone of a person, bringing the long-awaited news. And immediately someone young and cheerful shouted into the phone: - Uncle Vitya, it’s me! Uncle Vitya, can you hear me? Pavlik speaks rit. When are you leaving? “Uncle Vitya died!” Karasev said, becoming furious. go to the funeral. And he threw the phone at the chandelier. The arrows showed five mi- it's twelve o'clock. The battle with the telephone exchange was lost. Agent 008 rushed towardsbed and buried his face in the pillow. He began to lose the main quality of a seasoned spy - faith in himself. Having wiped away Superman's stingy tears, Pyotr Vasilyevich rolled over onto back and began to look sadly at the ceiling. “I’ll give up everything,” he whispered, “I’ll buy a farm, get married, and breed.” chickens You go out in the morning - chick, chick, chick... A lump came to my throat. To calm down, Karasev stood up and started doing gymnastics. He tried everything he knew exercises, but in vain - the tone did not rise, the hands dropped. “Boy,” the spy said to himself contemptuously. “Puppy, milk— suck... He wanted to continue the list, but his voice trembled treacherously. I didn't want to live. Bond pulled the lace out of his shoe and tested it for strength. The lace was strong. The saboteur took a sharpened blade and carefully cut the lace lengthwise. From there fell out rolled into a thin a tube of parchment. The saboteur straightened the parchment, put on his glasses and read: "Top secret. Job description for agent 008. He is persistent, persistent in achieving his goal, and has an unbending will. Cynical, boorish, self-confident to the extreme. Will overcome for the sake of money any obstacle. Capable of anything. Deputy Personnel P. Flint." Karasev read the description and his face gradually cleared up. moose “People respect me,” wiping the wet glasses, whispered Pyotr Vasilyevich, “that means I’m worth something.” He was rereadingcharacteristic until late at night and self-confident sanity gradually returned to him. When the spy comes back felt strong, resourceful and cynical, he turned ha- characteristics, put it back into the lace, carefully sewed it up with thin threads and began to think over new intrigues. He fell asleep only in the morning, but already at eight o'clock he was woken up knock on the door. Karasev jumped up and with a lightning movement tore off sole of his left boot, assembled the folding machine gun and went to unlock castle The postman stood on the threshold and handed Pyotr Vasilyevich some some piece of paper. It was a receipt for a telephone conversation with Bob- Ruysk CHAPTER 6 Impact in the ditch Belated passengers who got off late in the evening from the last trains at the suburban station Nedelnaya, there were many surprises Lena by one strange circumstance: pitch darkness reigned around darkness, all the lights on the platform were broken, as if someone could interfere with their dim lighting, similar to the light of distant stars. When the passengers had gone home, a a sinister figure wearing a backwards cap. Man in a cap approached a huge plywood board with a commuter schedule trains and began to silently pick out the nails on whichwho held the shield. Having finished this, he, groaning, threw the shield onto back and disappeared. Of course, Pyotr Vasilievich Karasev could study the schedule during the day, without kidnapping him from the platform, but standing half a day in full view of passengers scurrying back and forth would be unforgivably thoughtless I eat for a self-respecting spy. And the camera mounted in Karasev's jacket button, was designed only for office use pictures. Therefore, Pyotr Vasilyevich, stumbling and groaning, carried on himself a shield across the city, dragged it into his room and was relieved threw it on the bed. Then he put on his slippers, turned his cap looking forward, turned on the light and closed his eyes in surprise. A man in a railway worker's uniform was lying on the bed. His face expressed condemnation and at the same time compassion. The man was a Sovan against the backdrop of an electric train, from under the wheels of which someone was running away unhappy. The inscription below categorically stated: “You will save minute - you'll lose your life!" - Mine god! What an infection! - Karasev swore and angrily kicked kicking the man. - So, the schedule hung to the left. I needed glasses take it with you. He took the shield under his arm and dragged it back to the station. At three o'clock At night Pyotr Vasilievich returned home with another shield. This time he was not mistaken - it really was the schedule. The spy put he squatted down on the floor and began to study, making notes in in the right places. By morning he had picked himselfsuitable train: she came to Nedelnaya at twelve forty. "At noon the people “It won’t be enough,” Karasev thought insidiously. “It’s the most convenient time.” for sabotage - no one will notice." He planned to arrange an accident on the railway in order to prevent obstruct the supply of raw materials to the secret plant. It would delay work on an invention and would give the spy the opportunity to win at least two weeks. And during this time he will be able to penetrate plant and steal the drawings along with the chief engineer. And if... lucky, then with the head of the headquarters. Get him drunk, pack him in a container ner and will cross the border at low speed - on himself. Pyotr Vasilyevich began to prepare for the operation. Since the mines are clockwork disappeared, all hope was for semi-nuclear explosives based on sunflower oil, which has an extraordinary destructive force. One of the spy suitcases was completely stuffed with it. Danov. Agent 008 belted himself with a kickford cord and went to matter. At exactly twelve-twenty Karasev was there. He installed There was a suitcase on the rails, he attached a cord to it and lay down in the ditch. Before There were ten minutes left on the train. It was early September, but the sun burned in a way that remorse had never burned a spy. Pyotr Vasilyevich wiped the sweat from his face with burdock and regretted that he had not tipped his cap. But then in the distance something rumbled, the noise became more and more closer, closer, and finally becausea gang appeared around the corner schoolchildren dragging a thresher to the scrapyard. The saboteur was engulfed fear. For these schoolchildren, nothing was sacred. They are quite they could have taken his suitcase to the scrap yard. Fortunately, the procession Having reached Karasev about twenty meters, she turned to the side. There were no Lopukhovs left nearby. James Bond wiped himself with a dandelion com and began to wait again. The train was already five minutes late minutes. “We couldn’t think of planting some bush on the embankment,” the spy swore. “Wait here in the sun.” He felt that his skin began to peel from the scorching rays. nose Karasev covered him with the end of the fuse cord and walked nervously I looked at my watch. They showed ten minutes to one. - Disgraceful, simply outrageous! They don't respect people! At the beginning the second, Pyotr Vasilyevich began to feel an unbearable burning sensation in the back of his head. “How can I not dry out here,” he thought pitifully. Electric train began to seem to him like a personal enemy, impudent and self-confident. “Come, come,” the spy whispered maliciously. “I’ll give you wheels.” I'll break it. After another quarter of an hour, blisters appeared on Karasev’s nose and The skin began to peel off. "If this train doesn't come in ten minutes... Well, I’ll leave him alone, and I’ll kill one of the drivers,” the director decided. versant. At half past one his hair began to smoke. - Goodbye everyone. I’m drying up. - Pyotr Vasilyevich groaned and lost consciousness. Schoolchildren found himreturning from the reception center Vtor- raw materials. They separated. Some of the bottom ran to be scrapped explosives, and the rest began to call an ambulance. “Sunstroke,” stated the person who arrived at the scene. procession doctor. - Get into the car quickly! Karasev was placed on a stretcher and loaded into the car just at the moment when the late one rumbled on the embankment train.
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