Nikolay Lakutin

Emissaries 1, 2, 3 parts. Complete collection


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I do not see the need to put all the forces in search of someone who is able to find you before. But if you do take this case – I will certainly support you, than I can-I will help. I have a good undertaker, by the way.

      The captain said it's not in jest not seriously. Vitaly Lavrov did not understand how to react to the last words of the chief, awkwardly nodded, took the case and left the office with the words:

      – I understand it as a whole. Perhaps You are right,there are more important and priority matters.

      The captain nodded, Lavrov left the room, closing the door behind him.

      ***

      – You're asking if I've ever felt fear?

      … Yes… I was scared once… for those who I "woke up" – calmly replied the interrogated Layer in the Central Board office.

      We quietly switched to "you", that is the time to get acquainted. My name is Vadim – after some time continued a dialogue Tier – how to contact you?

      – Vadim speak? – man on the other side the table smiled – I have, too, many names, choose any, what like, not mistaken. But I wasn't waiting for you to play cat and mouse. Let's call a spade a spade, Tier.…

      On the back of a man who introduced himself as Vadim shiver. Several frightening questions formed in my head:

      "How does he know, my nick, only a few, very few know him?

      What do you mean I waited for you?

      Who is he?

      Looks like the captain didn't send me here for fun. Looks like he knew something that wouldn't let anyone else come here. But what?

      Maybe the captain and this man are connected?

      Maybe there's a trap waiting for me. After all he clearly understood, who deleted those two, about which was mentioned on meeting…

      What's going on here?»

      The person in the interrogation room sitting on the other side of the table smiled, although he did not look at the face of the Tier. All this time he was looking somewhere to the side, and just now he looked into the eyes of the opponent.

      – My full and only true name – Achord – quiet, but very sharp he said.

      Tier wrinkled eyebrows.

      – Yacht? I've never heard of you.

      – Mistake. Just because you don't remember doesn't mean you don't know me. The truth is, you know, and you know very well. At least not worse than I am you.

      Tier wondered. A lot he had in life to comprehend, to think, to solve various puzzles, but now the question was much deeper. He literally felt that the person sitting opposite was not lying, and it would be possible to write off this moment in oblivion, but the Tier was famous for its photographic memory from childhood, which means that in his entire life, he did not meet one hundred percent of the subject. Something to think about…

      – Good thinking, buddy. The answer is to search in this embodiment is not necessary, not here, but it is beyond the scope of this particular your physical body – again answered Achord, not paying any attention to what your thinking his opponent is not voiced.

      Tier sensed discomfort, on his back again ran all the chills. It was interesting, but an experienced assassin really felt fear of the one he was supposed to interrogate. The interrogation ceased to be an interrogation. It was difficult to call this dialogue anything at all.

      – As you know, there's not much point, something they themselves make up one's mind, I still hear everything, so tell me straight how it is. I want to ask about me, I want to ask about myself, most importantly, what you want to ask. Am I right? – Achord looked directly at him.

      – Right – replied the other.

      – Rights'. So you asked me if I'd ever been scared. I'll tell you. Yeah, that happened. The last time was many years ago.

      – Twenty years ago? – specified Tier, based on my experience, that's when he last felt your fear, until today.

      Achord smiled. Instead of unambiguously answering such a seemingly simple question, he began his story:

      – Four thousand years ago on the place of one of today's well – known deserts there was a big city tyna-javu. There I came, having done a long way of knowledge. This city was fatal in my history.

      Achord tightly closed eyelids. Tier not immediately understand the meaning of heard words, but didn't ask questions, just watched, listened and at some very subtle level felt that this meeting was for him a momentous inevitability. It's time to understand something, to remember something…

      ***

      The city of tyna-Java lived its turbulent life. Trade, as in many other cities, was the main craft. Carts with food from many settlements gathered here. The Tyn – Java in fact represent a large market. There was no production here, only mediation, pimping, in short, all that is now called entrepreneurship. Money is loved and valued more than life. Deception, forgery, embellishment and concealment of flaws – all this was an integral part of every day. From day to day there was little change until a tall man appeared at the gates of the city, standing out from the crowd.

      His clothes were different. No one in tyna-Java has ever seen such a style before. His appearance was also different from the others. People no different, deep tan, and the natives looked white. His face expressed calmness, confidence, strength and at the same time – humility. The faces of aboriginal people in the majority didn't hide sly smiles, false dobrodosli and traces of ignorance reflected in many actions and thoughts.

      – Oh, brother, look how much fruit, meat and overseas food, I can tell you're tired and hungry. Come on in, sit down, now we will arrange everything-going to the traveler, voiced Barker Inn at the gate of the city.

      The man smiled back.

      – Strange language, pointed to himself and said to clean the local:

      – Thanks, brother, I'm not hungry. Good trade to you and richer clients.

      The man stepped into the city.

      Shill never heard such a refusal before. He noted for himself that this stranger is very unusual.

      – Uh, wait-he called out to the man-what's your name, brother?

      The man smiled again, then softly but clearly said:

      – Achord…

      Having passed to the Central square, the man saw on the edge of the road of the poor begging for alms. He noticed that on the other side of the road is a bakery and drew attention to what money is calculated with the Baker residents and visiting traders. They used large coins as currency exchange. Taking out of his pocket a few coins, the man bought in the shop two bursting with heat rolls sprinkled with poppy seeds, went to the poor man and sat down next.

      What's up, buddy? he turned to the half-asleep beggar.

      He did not realize that the appeal addressed to him. Wide-eyed, he looked around and saw that beside him sits a strong man of eye-catching appearance, smiling and holding out his bun.

      – Thank you, raspy voice replied wretches, accepting the gift. He immediately began to deal with it, cautiously looking at the unusual neighbor. He was sitting there and as if nothing had happened, eating a loaf of bread, and then, meeting my eyes with the startled glances of passersby.

      The poor man very quickly ate his bun and inquiringly, with gratitude, awkwardness and embarrassment looked at his neighbor, who had only a couple of times to bite the muffin. The Walker, right, felt the look, turned and, realizing what was happening – handed the beggar his almost untouched food.

      He took her and just as quickly eaten.

      – What brings you to our city, if not a secret? after some time he heard a squeaky voice man.

      – No secret. I live by traveling to different cities and countries. I see who lives what.

      Why would you?

      – I love life in all its manifestations,