A slender, sandy-haired man was intently scanning the reports. His straight, medium-length hair was disheveled, and his completely ordinary face had a serious, frowning expression. He was sitting at a rich oak desk that was littered with papers. In front of the man was a black pistol, which could easily be recognized as the most ordinary TT. The light-colored suit was pretty rumpled…
The furnishings in the room were also quite luxurious, the furniture was made of oak and directly showed the wealth of the owner of the office. There were numerous folders with documents in the same oak cabinets. And the window looked out on a beautiful park.… But it wasn't the views of nature, nor a fairly modern computer, nor even a job that bothered a fairly young-looking man. By the way, his youth was a deception... Despite his "alleged youth," he had seen such things... Sergei Lisin, nicknamed the Fox... By the way, he fully justified his nickname… His friends from the yard in the nineties, it seems, robbed with him and ran under police bullets, but the Fox, who always knew the measure, never sat down, even though he was almost caught a couple of times. Of all his court, he was the only one who survived.… His last "friend" died of tuberculosis a couple of years ago. An unenviable fate for a man of forty…
But right now, the Fox wasn't reminiscing to remind himself how cunning he was. No…
"Is it serious?" "What is it?" he asked Alexei Lozhkin, his head of security, a two—meter-tall bully. The fox could shoot, he could fight with knives... but... the fact that Lozhkin, a former Afghan special forces soldier, was doing something in battle was something with something. — Did he really attract them?
—Yes," his man nodded. "This time it's serious, Seryozha,— Alexey continued. "He ran over Pontius.
— Who is this "Pontius"? Sergei asked, his very pseudonym seemed strange to him, smacking of some kind of antiquity.
—Pontius is a thief in law," Alexei began to spread out the terrifying information, sitting down on a chair. — Influential, charismatic. He got his "nickname" for his love of philosophy.…
"I don't remember any such philosophers,— Sergei remarked.
"It's a bad joke,— Alexei snapped. "Pontius will not spare you. He's already digging his nose into the ground to find the one who stole his "goods" …
"I've never been involved with drugs!" Sergei slammed his fist on the table. — Damn Vadik… Are children the flowers of life? Then why does he smell like shit?!
"The costs of education,— Alexey shook his head.
Here it is worth making a deeper digression. Sergey Lisin was born in Moscow, in nineteen sixty-four. In the family of a party worker and an English teacher. Since childhood, he was fond of sports, went to the sports fencing section, however, then he exchanged it for boxing: on the street, anyone who could not hit well was considered a weakling. He was also distinguished by an unsuccessful attempt to enter the University, the Faculty of Philology. And the former athlete and Komsomol member got in touch with a bad company pretty quickly.
At first, his yard gang dealt in fake fights. A couple of "hotheads" staged a mini-massacre, while the most dexterous, who were not involved in the fight, picked the pockets of those distracted by the disturbance. Then everything went on the rise, in a bad way… Until it came to an attempt to rob a kiosk. Sergey was lucky: he was late for the gathering of the group, and she decided to take it without him.… Who knew that they would be in a hurry?: The owner of the kiosk returned and not only returned, but ran to pick up the abandoned gun.… As a result, two of his friends ended up in the hospital, and then in prison. They returned five years later and quickly assembled a gang.… At the same time, Sergei killed a man for the first time. And anyway, he became hardened... only his "true" love helped him. However, then she left with her son in her arms, running away with some kind of nedolygarh to France. Sergei went on a binge, but his son "pulled him out." He managed to make some kind of fortune, which is why Irina first became his wife. But the oligarch turned out to have a pitchfork in Nice, and a late-model car, and a daughter-in-law who "always loved only him and carried away from him at the age of seventeen," and bought it. However, later, after some time, the oligarch threw her out on the street, and all because she had aged. When does retirement come for the wives of oligarchs? At thirty-five? Forty? She divorced the oligarch at thirty because she was smart enough to cheat on him with the head of security. The old man did not appreciate the humor and threw out the proshmandovka, who ran to Russia tearfully asking Sergei, who had risen to his feet and opened several casinos and cabarets, to take her back. But Sergei, taught by bitter experience, did not believe in women's tears of remorse, gave her money for a ticket to hell and asked her not to bother her eyes. She was deprived of her parental rights to Vadik, their son, long ago.
Everything he's done since Irina's betrayal has been for his sake. His son, Vadik. He watched him grow up, become a man... what a man he had become! Vadik turned out to be some kind of carrion! Too late, Sergei realized that he had spoiled Vadim. My son is used to getting everything on a silver platter, no… With a gold border. As a result, he grew up to be a scum. And when Sergey told him, Vadik, that Seryozha himself had gotten him a lot of things and it would be good for Vadim to start doing something himself, he put together a gang of scumbags. She reminded Sergei of his own gang.… But Sergei immediately saw how this or that case could end. This allowed him not only to escape prison, but also to survive several shootouts. These same... individuals had no brakes, from the word at all
They ran into a cash collector's car and started a massacre. They boldly raised the jackpot and feasted for almost a year. Either they were lucky, or the detectives were stupid, but they never got to them. The daring, and most importantly, successful attack intoxicated the minds of the young idiots and took off. It started until Vadik tried to get into something that gives a guaranteed income... Sergei offered his son money to open a cafe and casino on his behalf.… Even a strip bar! But no, Vadik realized that he needed to follow "exactly his father's path." As a result, I ran into trouble. More precisely, I got into something that no self-respecting businessman, even a former criminal, would associate himself with. Back in the nineties, Fox himself tried to get into the drug business, until he realized what kind of money was spinning there and what "businessmen" could do in this crime path to squeeze out competitors. Therefore, he managed to jump off in time, unlike his comrade Morozov, who was later fished out of a lake forty kilometers from Moscow.
Vadik, on the other hand, ran into a thief in law, a real one, not one of those that are shown in TV series and films, who oversaw this damned business in Moscow. That's what Pontius was. He provided cover for the drug business, as well as underground brothels. His monthly income was equal to Lisin's annual income, and only this fact showed that this fish was many times bigger... Damn! Damn that whore Irina, damn that stupid son! Yes, and he himself! Raised my son! If only he'd been given a chance to change anything!
"What are we going to do, boss?" Alexey asked. — Pontius, as I said before, is digging his nose into the ground to find out who stole his goods at the transshipment base and sold them instead.
— What to do, what to do… Can we fight Pontius? Sergey asked.
"If we make every effort," Lyosha drawled thoughtfully, "I think so... but only if Pontius himself does not expect serious resistance from us." But that's out of the question… He will do his best to crush us.
Sergei swore angrily and, after playing with the pistol, in the manner of Russian roulette, put it in a holster.
— Why will he try to pressure us at all? What did Vadim do? Sergey asked.
—Oh,— Alexey drawled. — Your Vadim ran into a warehouse /transshipment base of Pontius drugs, which was supervised by his mistress, a chemist. The girl was expelled from the Chemical Faculty, and then they tried to rape her. Pontius picked her up, made her almost his wife, and put her over the base… And then the scumbags of your son came running with him at the head and killed everyone. The drugs were stolen, and an illegal sexual act was committed against the girl, they injected her with a horse dose of drugs and released her almost in the center of Moscow.
— It seems to me that only for the first part of the description of my son's deed, he should be quartered, — Sergey sighed sadly. — What do you suggest?
—Congo, or Nigeria,— Alexei said seriously. — Buy black villages in Africa and pray that Pontius' power does not extend across the seas.
— Are you evaluating it objectively?…
"We don't have a chance, Sergei,— Alexei said. — I respect you, you pulled me out of poverty, helped me get back on my feet. I helped my daughter graduate from university, but you understand me too. There are situations when you just can't turn everything to your advantage! This is exactly the situation. I'm with you to the end, boss. But I also... want to live. I want grandchildren, damn it!
— Okay, — Sergey got up, going to the window. — Do you have contacts who are not afraid of anything? I'm not going to use my guards, but theirs. You're... free to do as you see fit, but if you feel threatened," Sergei went to the table, took out a piece of paper, and wrote down the account number. — Account number in Switzerland. A comfortable existence is enough for two or three generations. The account is set up so that anyone who presents a password can withdraw the entire amount. I'll fight, but if I die, no... — Sergei corrected himself, — when I die, you can do whatever you want with the money. Preferably, give them to your daughter, Anya.
— Seryozha…
— Maybe you want to ask: why don't I leave anything for my son? Because he's a rare carrion… I admit, I couldn't raise him. This is my mistake. And I have to answer for her in full, you know..." the words came out with difficulty. Admitting your mistakes for someone as smart and cunning as Lisin… After all that he's been through, after all the people he's been able to beat. — All my casinos and cabarets will go to my friend Vasily. He recently became the director of the museum and there are problems with the building. Let him do what he wants with casinos and cabarets, I don't care about them... damn it. I've been attracted to nobility lately.…
—Sergei,— Alexey said seriously.
"That's it, Lyosha,— Sergei shook his head. — Leave the number of your "masters" and... damn it, what's wrong with me? Lisin asked. — Okay. Do you understand everything?
— Yes, but…
"It's nothing,— Lisin waved him off. — Warn my guards not to help. It's none of their business, and the people who are interested in me are serious…
Lyosha took the bill. You can withdraw money from there only after the death of the discoverer. Swiss banks are the best in this regard. You can specify any conditions. I remember his friend once thought that if he died, he would force all those claiming his inheritance to play Russian roulette. Sergey looked at the remaining cup of coffee and immediately finished it. "Those who are not afraid of anything" are essentially mercenaries. They don't care who they shoot at, they always look out for their own financial interests. Sergey went to the table and dialed the number…
—At the phone,— the voice on the phone said.
"A good friend of mine recommended you to me," Sergei began in a confident voice. — Alexey Lozhkin.
— Lyosha? Okay, what should I do? "What is it?" asked the man he was talking to. — I'm Alexander.
"I'm planning something like a war, and I need soldiers proven by deed and blood who will do what is required for a pack of greenbacks," Sergei was not worried about the wiretapping and even wanted his old acquaintances to hear the police. Maybe it will be possible to attract them to Pontius. No matter how carrion and scum Vadik is, he is his son! And what kind of father is Sergei if he doesn't even want to help his son. Maybe these circumstances will harden him, teach him at least something... or maybe not. — We will discuss the details in person.
—Okay,— came a voice from the receiver. — Write down the address.
"That's a long way," Sergei cursed when he heard the address. — Okay. It's time, in the good traditions of the native Muscovite, to remember that there is also life beyond Sadovoye.
He grinned at some understandable joke and left the office, immediately seeing the secretary, a beautiful and slender brunette. And no, she wasn't his lover, even though she made eyes at him at first. After Ira... Sergey Lisin stopped believing women on a psychological level. Or did he just smell rot? Considering that he knows how to do it. Yes… It's not magic, as some gypsy from the train station explained to him, but just developed empathy and premonition. It was this factor that determined "the ability to slow down in time in any situation related to crime." Sergey knows how to feel the emotions of others. Anna Pavlovna Trutskaya, his secretary, despite her defiant appearance, was and still is a modest woman. But even this did not drown the ice. Even the realization that Anna Pavlovna was not trying to get close to him for the sake of benefits still did not help either her or him. It was as if something had broken inside. He had women, in the sexual sense, but without love.
— Anna, I left, — Sergey did not arrange a farewell to the woman. — And yes, I've given everyone an annual bonus. Get some rest…
—Goodbye, Sergey Alexandrovich,— the woman smiled, if only she knew.
Sergei nodded and went out into the backyard. The fresh autumn air hit the businessman's nose. The last Mercedes was parked almost at the exit from the parking lot that his casino shared with the bar.
—Oh,— a melodious female voice was heard from behind, and Sergei turned around. "What a handsome man,— a stunning beauty approached him. Blonde with outstanding assets, both front and back. — Would you like to spend some decent time? There's a discount for a handsome man.
"I don't have time for whores,— Sergei shook his head.
The woman was wearing a rather revealing blouse and knee-length skirt.
—How rude,— the woman cooed.
The next moment, Sergei reached for his pistol, but he simply did not have time. The femme fatale sprayed him with something right in his face. And the world swam before my eyes.
—Let's take this away,— a man's voice said, taking the gun from his hand and holding his right hand.
Naive, Sergei is an ambidexter. A knife appeared in his left hand, and he stabbed somewhere where the enemy seemed to be… But he didn't have time to see that he had somehow touched him. Lost consciousness… Darkness flooded Sergei's mind.
***
Drip... Drip... droplets of water dripped steadily from the ceiling and fell to the floor… Basement… Most likely. Consciousness returned in spurts. At first, he felt that he could move his fingers, then his hearing returned, and finally the darkness before his eyes cleared.
— Kha, — Sergey Lisin coughed and began to examine his surroundings.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness… It wasn't that dark, though. He was really in the basement. The old, gray concrete was depressing, and the bound hands did not stimulate a mood boost. The basement turned out to be a large room, according to Sergei's estimates, no smaller than the shooting range he once took his son to. And right in front of him was... a TV. The latest model with a slim display. A beautiful girl with black hair and green eyes was frozen on the screen. She was smiling, holding a bouquet of flowers.…
"Pretty, isn't she?" — A voice came from behind.
Sergei tried to turn around and look at the source of the sound, but he couldn't: he was so firmly tied to a hard chair.
— It will certainly be difficult for you to talk to me without seeing me. I'll help you with that," footsteps were heard. The man approached Sergey and stood in front of him.
There was a good light source in the basement, despite the water dripping from the ceiling. And there is electricity… It's a strange room. A man with bushy black sideburns and the same hair appeared in front of him. He was slender and well-built, dressed in a white business suit. The shirt under the jacket, on the other hand, was black. Her black hair was neatly styled. He doesn't look more than thirty years old. The face is correct, "intelligent-looking," but the expression can be described in two words: "world sorrow."
— They say, — he looked expressively at Sergey, — children are not responsible for the actions of their fathers.,
His voice was velvety, many would say, gentle and quiet, like a faint breeze, but Sergei's hearing, despite the forced sleep, perfectly distinguished the "dagger notes in his voice", as well as emotions — anger and rage.
"You're Pontius,— Sergei said through his teeth.
— That's right, and you're Sergey Lisin, — he turned towards the TV screen. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" — the man asked again. — I remember her when I shouldn't have looked at her picture and sighed, if you know what I mean.…
Sergey sighed, perfectly understanding what his interlocutor was talking about, who belonged to the category of "in case of a meeting, move to another country, if you, of course, survived this meeting." Sergei had no doubt that he would not survive the meeting. He was abducted, tied up… The only question is how will he be killed?
—Her scent, her smile, her look,— Pontius listed. "I thought that a nobody like me—a murderer, a butcher, a drug dealer—could only attract a prostitute who came to please me for money,— Pontius said sadly. "I wasn't worthy of a millimeter of her skin... each creature has a pair and... I wouldn't call her a creature, nor would I call myself a worthy man for this woman. I've been wondering, do you know what?
"I... have no idea."…
— And I don't blame you for that moment.… I was wondering: why is there such an angel in the flesh," Pontius' intonation became questionable, "why did she choose me? Is it because I dispersed those bullies who were crowding around her after she was expelled from the university for not giving some teacher? I asked her, "Why?" And do you know what she replied to me?
Sergei only averted his gaze so as not to look into Pontius' piercing blue eyes.
"I want," Pontius abruptly closed the distance between them and fixed his gaze on Sergei's eyes, "for you to look into my eyes!" When the other person doesn't look me in the eye, it makes me nervous! Look into my eyes!
Sergei reluctantly raised his gaze, looking exactly into the blue eyes of his interlocutor.
"Why did she choose me?" She replied that she didn't know.… She understood my burden, understood my position, and chose me anyway, deciding to share the burden of my sins, deciding to become a murderer without a doubt," Pontius looked behind Sergei. —Tell me, Tiger," he said to the man, and Sergei shuddered. He didn't feel it at all! — Have you met the same woman or heard about similar ones?
—No, boss," Pontius's subordinate's voice was raspy and caustic. — I went through Afghanistan, Chechnya. But that's all I can say about Mrs. Victoria.: She's one in a million.
—And you're not flattering or fawning, trying to touch the strings of my soul," Pontius summed up, turning to the screen. — Hmmm… She was perfect. But is there an ideal? Perfection? Millions of scientists around the world are trying to achieve the ideal in their fields. Synthesize the perfect medicine, the perfect drug. The military wants the perfect weapon. Technicians want to build perfect machinery. You know, Sergey," Lisin shuddered when Pontius addressed him by name again, "I believe that a person by himself is not capable of achieving the ideal. You are the clearest example of this. You "stopped" at what you had achieved in time, but still had mistakes ... A person is not able to achieve the ideal, but do you know why?
And what should I say to him? Sergey himself did not understand anything about all this philosophy. And Pontius' reasoning… He could literally see how obsessed Pontius was with this girl.… What have you done, Vadik? Why did you do that? What did he miss?
"That's because man is the ideal,— Pontius replied. — Victoria confirms this. Each of us is an ideal in his own way. In a certain area. But only in one… That's my theory. A person is perfect in what is closest to him… This is what defines his life, his feelings.… As it defined her. She was perfect.… While. Until she was taken away from me! Pontius shouted sharply. "You took her away from me!" — he pointed at Sergey with his finger, and the man's face was distorted with anger. — More precisely, your son. He raped her, him and a bunch of scum. And then they drugged him and released him in the Center of Moscow! But even after that, she was walking in the direction where our apartment was located. She understood that I needed her, like the lungs needed air! Even realizing that she was spoiled, she understood and wanted to come to me! Heart failure from an overdose! Do you think I would want my angel to die from that?! At that age?! But it's all my fault... then, a few years ago, about fourteen, it seems, you were trying to get into the drug business. You and, if I remember correctly, Konstantin Morozov. Then it was I who besieged you. I laid siege and forgot… So that you can remind me of your existence in a decade and a half! Pontius slapped Sergei sharply in the face.
Sergei tasted the salty taste of blood and spat out a tooth.
"I spared you, thinking you'd had enough of the lesson. But... it's probably safe to say that there is karma.… You remind me of me, and we're almost the same age. I spared you then, and that's what it led to. You have given me a new lesson," Pontius turned away from Sergei, and in the next sentence one could feel that he was almost crying. — But it was too expensive a lesson! "We are not able to appreciate anything without losing it." But I appreciated Her even earlier.… To end up losing.
"I didn't kill her,— Sergei said, having overcome the pain.
—You,— said Pontius. "Exactly you. Children are not responsible for the actions of their fathers and mothers, but what if I told you that fathers are responsible for their sons? You didn't raise him. You didn't explain it to him," Pontius sighed. — This is your mistake. And you will pay for it. I'll be honest. I have already talked with your son, and so that you may initially know, he begged me for mercy, saying that he agreed that you, his OWN FATHER, should die, but he remained alive. Is this, in your opinion, education? Pontius approached him again, and Sergei noticed barely noticeable rivulets of tears. "I hated my father. He was a prominent official, even more prominent than yours. He was a "highly moral" adherent of socialism and passionately wanted to build communism. So passionately that even my grandfather, who was one of the officers who first entered Berlin in 1945, twirled his finger at his temple. But no matter what my father was, I was able to be raised. You're a better person than my father. But as a father, it can't get any worse.
Lisin shuddered, realizing that the death sentence had already been signed. He had a glimmer of hope.… At least some of it.
"You know,— Pontius continued, standing in front of Lisin. — I believe in the concept of reincarnation. Imagine, when I was a child, I believed that after death I would become a dog and even imagined what kind of breed it would be. After studying the Bible and a number of other religious books, I realized: we definitely don't stop after death. I've seen it many times. At the time of death, a person seems to sigh with relief. It doesn't matter if it's a calm death, like my grandfather's, or with a knife in his heart. A person probably understands that there will be another life behind this one.
"I don't believe in all this nonsense," Lisin remarked. — Life is given only once, and it should be lived in such a way that when you die you have no regrets. Unfortunately, I have plenty of them.…
Pontius's eyes widened, and he forced a smile.
— Now I see that I will be able to have a discussion with you. Don't look at the fact that I'm a murderer and a bandit. I have a philosophy department with a red diploma behind me, isn't it incredible? So what did you say about the only life?
"I don't believe in the Gods or their power," Sergei said confidently. — Man is the creator of his own destiny. You reasoned that man is perfection in itself, didn't you? This means that a person is like "perfection" and is able to determine both his fate and take responsibility for it.
"An interesting point of view," Pontius nodded. — My research assistant, Vasily Ivanovich, had the same one. Cynical and cold-blooded. And to live in such a way that there are no regrets… It smacks of a synthesis of egoism and epicureanism. And you are the perfect example of that.
"I'm not selfish."…
"Really?" The man raised an eyebrow questioningly. — Judge for yourself. You were a bandit, right? For what? For my own sake. When you had a son, did you start pampering him for what? Pontius asked the question. "Is it really enough for him to grow up to be a decent man?" No," he shook his head. — You did all this for yourself, in order to show yourself and everyone that you are above others. You're an egoist, even if you hide behind the fact that you didn't do it for your own good. Your ideology and your thoughts are not much different from the rest of the gray mass of ordinary everyday life…
"What's yours?" Sergei asked, mentally checking himself.
"I've already said it,— Pontius replied, pursing his lips. — I believe that a person accumulates knowledge in the process of life, which after death lays the foundation for his future life. Or do I want to believe it? I probably want to believe that she"—he pointed to the image of the woman—"got to a place where all the knowledge that she has accumulated will help her live a much better life."… Perhaps she'll have another family, and another... man," Pontius grimaced. — I hope it will become even more perfect and perfect. As you will become… I may not believe that just death is a worthy ending for you and your son, but I understand that I simply have to take revenge! And... maybe you'll avoid your mistakes.
"Then… When you're about to kill me," Sergei said.
"All in good time,— Pontius smiled. — First, we should show you the "deathbed punishments" of the perpetrators to a greater extent than you. Although it was you who raised "this carrion," but... I perfectly understand or am trying to understand that you are a "decent person" as much as possible… You remind me of a character from a novel that was recently published. Very interesting. Alas, he also died because of his son. Or because I couldn't raise him adequately? Pontius asked the question. — He was a man of his era, a hero of his time, just like you. And I ended up like you…