Everything that exists now in our real world was once a great invention. Even a simple light bulb. But why don’t we still live in that amazing, fantastic world that science fiction writers dreamed of a few decades ago?
In this context, the engineering genius Nikola Tesla is most often remembered. An outstanding inventor could advance the technological progress of our civilization for hundreds of years, but all his most ambitious projects were lost. There is a popular theory in certain circles that people at the top of the current social pyramid are deliberately hindering progress and destroying revolutionary technologies that could be a miracle for the whole world, but thereby threaten their traditional business.
This is what Tesla could really come up with, although it is generally accepted that this is just “fantasy”.
Death ray
Nikola Tesla claimed to have invented a "death ray" in the 1930s, which he called Tele Force.
The device could generate an intense beam of energy and direct it to the desired point: “We can use this technology to destroy enemy combat aircraft, entire foreign armies or anything else that you would like to destroy,” Tesla wrote.
But the Death Ray was never built. Perhaps Tesla himself destroyed all the documents and sketches associated with him when he realized that with such weapons it would be too easy for individual countries to destroy each other.
Tesla's invention could "destroy everything within a radius of 200 miles... It would make any country, large or small, impregnable to armies, planes and other means of attack."
Tesla said that they had repeatedly tried to steal this invention of his. Unknown people burst into his office and rummaged through his documents. But the scientist hid everything so thoroughly that they failed to find anything serious.
Tesla Oscillator
In 1898, Tesla claimed to have built and deployed a small oscillating device that nearly destroyed the entire building in which his office was located and everything around it.
In other words, the device could simulate earthquakes. Realizing the destructive potential of his invention, Tesla destroyed the oscillator with a hammer and instructed his employees to remain silent about the cause of the earthquake if anyone asked about it.
Some scientists believe that the US government continues to exploit Tesla's research at the HAARP facility in Alaska.
Free electricity for everyone
With the help of JP Morgan finance, Tesla designed and built the Wardenclyffe Tower, a giant wireless wave transmission station in New York, in 1901-1902.
Morgan thought that Wardenclyffe Tower could provide wireless communications throughout the world. But Tesla had other plans. He wanted to transmit electricity for free and provide the world with free radio communications. Tesla intended to use it to transmit messages, telephony and fax images even across the Atlantic Ocean to England and to ships on the high seas. Those. he claimed that he owned all those technologies that in reality appeared only decades later.
And this tower somehow had to conduct electricity. They say that if the project worked, anyone could get electricity by simply sticking an anchor into the ground.
Unfortunately, free electricity is not profitable.
None of the industrialists and financiers, including Tesla's backers, wanted revolutionary changes in the energy industry. Changes that threatened the very existence of their business.
Imagine what the world would be like if society did not need oil and coal? Would they then be able to " the mighty of the world“to control everything?”
JP Morgan refused to fund the changes. The project was abandoned in 1906 and never took off.
Tesla's flying saucer
In 1911, Nikola Tesla told the newspaper " The New York Herald" that he is working on an "anti-gravity flying machine": "My flying machine will have neither wings nor a propeller. Seeing it on the ground, you would never guess that it is an aircraft. However, it will be able to fly in any direction with complete safety, at a higher speed than any other, regardless of weather conditions, and without paying attention to holes in the air. He can for a long time remain absolutely motionless in the air, even when strong wind. Its lifting power will not be dependent on its delicate bird-like structure. It’s all about getting the mechanical action right.”
Tesla's flying saucer was powered by the free energy of the system, while all other things in the world of aviation and the automobile industry depended on oil and petroleum products.
His invention suffered the same fate as the free energy transfer system.
Superfast Airships
Tesla promised that electric airships would transport passengers from New York to London in 3 hours, traveling at an altitude of about 13 kilometers above the ground.
He also envisioned that airships would be able to draw energy directly from the atmosphere without having to stop to refuel. Unmanned airships could even be used to transport passengers to a pre-selected destination. He was never given credit for this invention.
Many years have passed and today we have drones performing combat missions, supersonic aircraft flying at amazing speeds and spaceships, which can fly around the Earth in the upper atmosphere.
By the way, some conspiracy theorists believe that the FBI stole all of Tesla's work, research and inventions after his death. They simply took all the documents out of his house and office.
Part three Moscow region Chapter twenty-two Recruitment. Girl, grow up! Moscow. Central District. Bolshaya Molchanovka The apartment on Bolshaya Molchanovka was no different from the apartments of its time: high ceilings, old-fashioned room layouts with awkward projections and unexpected niches. This apartment was more than convenient for secret work. And now, when Zhanna came here with the thought “Lord! Why do I need all this?”, she walked through a winding corridor, before getting into the living room, opened the double door, someone completely unnoticed closed the front door with a lock, but it was Zhanna I didn't even feel it. And how was she supposed to feel? All her attention was focused on the room she entered. There was a table in the center of the room. The round, old-fashioned table was covered with green cloth with a carved relief pattern. Above the table hung a lamp on a long cord, clearly an antique one, with a blind shade, so that the light fell only on the table and the immediate space adjacent to the table. The rest of the room was in twilight. Zhanna saw a male figure not far from the tightly curtained window. But she couldn’t see the man’s face. There was a chair at the table - singular. And on the green cloth there are two folders: one blue, the other red. There was also an ink pen, the most ordinary pen that schoolchildren used to write with, for a couple of rubles, not a Parker with a gold nib. The chair, apparently, was intended for Jeanne. She appreciated it, but was in no hurry to sit down. - Hello! Who you are? Can I see you? - Zhanna’s voice visibly trembled with excitement, she immediately scolded herself and tried to pull herself together. So far it has turned out disgusting. My hands couldn't control myself. - My name won't tell you anything. Have a seat. The voice turned out to be unexpectedly pleasant, calm, confident, so calm that Zhanna’s excitement somehow, on its own, subsided. She, unexpectedly for herself, accepted the rules of the game that the stranger dictated to her. Judging by his voice, he was about thirty-five to forty years old. For men at that age appearance Zhanna acted flawlessly. She carefully sat down on the edge of the chair, tried to settle in, then realized that there was no time for eternal games of coquetry and settled down on the chair in the most comfortable way for herself. Then she noticed that on the table there was a small silver ashtray, which had clearly been used, and next to it a lighter. Someone knew well that Zhanna would not refuse to smoke a cigarette, especially when she was nervous. - Excuse me, can I have a smoke? - this phrase was much easier for Zhanna. - Don't deny yourself. Zhanna took out a cigarette, flicked the lighter, lit a cigarette, at first still nervously, but very quickly she completely calmed down. And after she put out the cigarette butt, she asked in a completely calm and cold tone: “Excuse me, what is the purpose of our meeting?” Pyotr Evgenievich Korchemny, and as you guessed it, he was the person talking with Zhanna, felt absolutely calm. He tested Zhanna and saw that she quickly adapted to the new situation. And she quickly pulled herself together. And her appearance, which he had heard enough about, even seen, during live communication turned out to make a very strong impression! - First, please open the blue folder. There is a document stating that you undertake not to tell anyone about our meeting. And even more so about what you will hear on it. There's a pen nearby. Subscribe. And then we'll start talking. - Is this mandatory, even for ladies? - Zhanna lowered her slightly playful tone, trying to test her interlocutor’s resistance to her feminine charms. The answer was cold and laconic. Zhanna realized that there was no point in flirting in this situation and scolded herself for her stupidity. - Necessarily. Then she opened the folder, looked at the organization’s signature; Zhanna undoubtedly knew what the Office was, but only after seeing this document did she realize that she had gotten into something really serious. My throat suddenly became dry and I wanted to smoke. She made an involuntary gesture, something like how one kneads a cigarette with two fingers before lighting it, an involuntary gesture, but not hidden from Korchemnoy. - Sign and you can smoke again. Zhanna nodded her head, signed the paper, threw a pack of cigarettes on the table, now she understood that the conversation was going to be nervous, and decided not to be shy. Having released the first puff of smoke, she slightly tilted her head, as if inviting her interlocutor to continue the conversation, and immediately heard. - Sorry, this is a proforma, but everything you hear here is a state secret. I have to repeat this. As I must warn you, our conversation is being recorded on tape. Zhanna nodded slightly in response. - I must say that now I will only introduce you to the general features of the case. It is so secret that you will only receive more detailed information if you give your final consent. And one more thing: your decision must be made today. I can’t give you more than half an hour to think about it. I hope this is clear? Zhanna nodded affirmatively, wisely preferring not to open her mouth for now. - We brought a foreigner into the country. Delivered completely voluntarily. Our country really needs him. Cooperation with him is an important factor in state security. But he set a rather difficult condition for our cooperation. Zhanna raised her eyebrows, it seems that now the moment of truth will come, the moment for which she was invited here. - And this condition is you. This phrase had a completely deafening effect on Zhanna. - Sorry, I didn’t understand, how, what do you mean, me? - she barely squeezed out. - You know, we need to star less in films about sex and perestroika, and also pose for Playboy. We managed. Now it turns out that we cannot replace you with an extra. More precisely, a statistician. You study at GITIS, who knows, you will appear in a role, then they will figure us out, and in such a delicate matter, deception can cost a lot. - Is this something from a series of nuclear espionage, oh, forgive me, fool... - Therefore, we are forced to ask you to cooperate with us. And Korchemny fell silent. He didn’t say anything about the advantages of cooperation with them; after all, if there is a conversation about trade, it can be considered a done deal. Bargaining means not ready to refuse. - I just don’t understand what “cooperation” means? Am I supposed to crawl into a foreigner’s bed and extract some secrets from him? - Well, you won’t torture him, moreover, I think bed studies will also bypass you. This is a man of very respectable, I would say even advanced, age. It is unlikely that sex is a priority in his life today. - Sorry... - He needs family comfort in the last year or two, maximum three, of his life. In principle, our doctors won’t give him more than a year, especially since we have no right to put off resolving this issue indefinitely. - Excuse me, what do you mean, “family comfort”? What if he still wants something? I just need to understand specifically what may be required of me. - To begin with, we will formalize your official marriage. - But I'm married. Of course, the marriage is civil, but... - You don’t live with your husband. Your mother-in-law kicked you out of the house. - You are well informed. - This is the job. - Fine. Marriage. It's clear. What else? - More? You also have to play the role of an exemplary wife caring for her decrepit husband. And you will do this in the best possible way... - Well, okay. Suppose I agree, but how can I explain all this at the institute, like to my friends, how? - It's not your concern. First give a yes or no answer. Then we will tell you about the details. Yes, I completely forgot to tell you, forgive me for that. You know, previously cooperation with our organization was so prestigious that there was no point in asking anyone to help us. Some helped out of patriotism, some out of fear, some out of profit. These are difficult times. Difficult for everyone. But we have some opportunities. For example, we continue to collaborate with some producers who will not refuse to cast our protégé in roles. We do not guarantee you titles, success, or creative upswings, because success in your business is determined by talent and efficiency. But we can help you discover your talent. And you will undoubtedly have some monetary compensation for special working conditions. And so that you can be sure that not everything can be measured with money, let's talk about your ears... At these words, Zhanna jumped as if stung. - Sorry... I know that this is a painful topic for you. So, we are just beginning to perform such operations in several clinics - and not very successfully. Plastic in another country is more reliable, but too expensive. You're aware, I'm sure. But you don’t know that we have our own specialists in this area, and our own small center in an inconspicuous town in the Moscow region. You agree - and we will correct this small defect for you. For free. - When? - What is this, a positive answer? - When do you eliminate it? Can this be done BEFORE my debut in a new role? - No. There is a possibility that our guest heard about your embarrassment at the beauty contest; newspapers, including foreign ones, wrote about it. But in a week you will leave for three days. It would be enough. Well, I'll give you half an hour to think about it? Zhanna nodded in response, took another cigarette and lit it greedily. She thought just as long as the cigarette burned. Then, with a decisive gesture, she pushed the ashtray aside and nodded her head: “Okay!” I agree. Tell me what I have to do, just be more specific, please, I’m tired of this talk around the bush. - Perfect! There is a piece of paper in the red folder. Read and sign. Zhanna read it, raised her eyebrows, wanted to ask a question, but changed her mind, quickly scribbled somewhere at the very bottom of the piece of paper, and raised her eyes to the interlocutor without a face. - Fine. Then there are three copies of the same document. This is your clearance level. Subscribe. Put everything in the blue folder. Next in the folder is a dossier. It's small. And you can get acquainted with it here. Thank you, I'll pick up the folder later. Don't read yet. One person wants to talk to you. And then Zhanna realized that someone else had entered the room. He walked from behind her, but for some reason Zhanna was afraid to turn around. The man sat down next to the one who had just spoken; apparently, there was another chair there, covered with a curtain of darkness. Unexpectedly for herself, hearing the calm voice of an elderly, confident man, Zhanna calmed down. She realized that from that moment a new chapter of her life began for her. Chapter Twenty-Three What have you gotten me into? Moscow. Central District. Bolshaya Molchanovka - Hello, Zhanna Vitalievna. My name is Konstantin Lvovich. This will be enough for you. Your curator is Petr Evgenievich. You don't need to know us by sight. Your main contact with us will be Alexander Simonovich, you already know him a little. - I had such a dubious pleasure. - Zhanna grimaced at the thought of Sasha, with his unclear orientation. - This is just the best of all possible options, believe me. Now about the main thing. A photograph of an elderly man lay on the table. - His name is Dan Carpenter. I understand that this name doesn't mean anything to you. What have you heard about such a scientist, Nikola Tesla? Zhanna picked up her lips and pressed them into a sharp line, which most likely meant, well, asking questions. - You know, I still had to become an engineer. This is a famous inventor who lived at the very beginning of our century, if I’m not mistaken. - You are not mistaken. He is the father of all modern electric power. And not only. He is known for many patents, and his inventions are still in use today. Many are considered irretrievably lost. Everyone knows this. Zhanna nodded her head. - But this is something that very few people know. Nikola Tesla was the inventor of very powerful weapons. Have you heard about Tunguska meteorite? So - it was not a meteorite. This was an energy weapon test. And Nikola Tesla tested it. Before the war in the USSR there was a famous American scientist who worked in the Manhattan Project, Oppenheimer, he was visiting Beria himself at his dacha. On Tesla's instructions, he told Beria about testing this weapon and, moreover, pointed out some artifacts that should have been found at the site of the Tunguska disaster. Things took place on the eve of the war. Then a group of leading physicists believed that in order to maintain peace, the leading countries opposing each other must have weapons so destructive in power that their very existence would negate the possibility of their use. - Containment of force by a potential threat? - That's it. But besides these weapons, Tesla offered several more types of weapons, including original aircrafts, similar to flying saucers. In addition, he developed ray weapons and some kind of energy shields capable of covering entire cities or vast territories. - More like fantasy. - Alas, what Tesla did really looked like science fiction. However, he was not a theorist. No formulas. Only drawings, drawings and applied calculations. So, Beria sent a secret expedition to Podkamennaya Tunguska. All artifacts and phenomena described by Tesla were discovered. - Was Tesla one of the scientists who wanted to stop the war? - Yes, it was also called a “conspiracy of physicists.” In addition to Tesla, Niels Bohr, Albert Einstein, and Oppenheimer also took part in it. For example, Einstein's letter initiated the creation of the Manhattan Project in the United States. - And what is our grandfather, as you said, Dan Carpenter? How does he feel about all this? - Dan Carpenter, by the way, his last name translates as carpenter, or teslya, in Ukrainian, for example, he was raised at a young age by Nikola Tesla. Fluent in Serbian, Russian and German languages. This is in addition to your native English. The fact of his disappearance, or rather, even the fact of his presence in the life of Nikola Tesla, is not noted by the biographers of the great scientist for a reason. Immediately after the death of the great inventor, Dan disappeared without a trace. Some people thought he knew too much. After all, Nikola Tesla took the main secrets - the secrets of his weapons - with him to the grave. - And we are interested in these secrets? - Very. You see, this is a breakthrough. It is no secret that our defense capability is falling catastrophically. The Americans no longer consider us as a superpower. That wouldn't be so bad, you know, Russia doesn't need superpower status. But the Americans believe that we will now dance to their tune. For now we are protected by a nuclear shield. But very soon, we will find ourselves defenseless against an external threat. Delivery vehicles were developed and produced in Ukraine, now those who hate Russia are striving for power there. Sooner or later, we will be left without weapons, and Russia will simply be erased from the world map, and no one will regret it. If something doesn't change dramatically in the coming years, we won't be able to survive the consequences of this crazy, painful breakup. They simply don’t take us into account, they openly don’t care about our opinion, we’ve already been written off as scrap! Tesla's research and his weapons would help us restore parity of power and make our positions equal to the American ones. - And then what? A new round of the arms race? Or dictate world domination ? What are you looking for in these studies? - We don't need his sword! We need his SHIELD! We need time to rebuild the economy, raise the country from ruins, and create a new security system. After all, now we are face to face with the hostile world. More precisely, one against all. Dan will never agree to give us any of Nikola's offensive projects. But the drawings of the “shield” are very possible. You see, this is very important to us. It was important before. In 1958 we were on his trail. He was under the control of the FBI, but in relative freedom, he was either treated or tortured in a psychiatric clinic in Maryland. You know, there are also special psychiatric hospitals there, more like torture houses. Dan Carpenter was in such an establishment. He managed to contact one of our agents, those who were still working with US nuclear secrets. We sent a special forces team to carry out an operation to free him. This was to be the most daring operation of our Office in the United States. A week before the operation, Dan disappears again. He was being transferred somewhere further, where, he himself did not know. The operation failed. And there was no more information about Dan Carpenter at all. - Interesting... Excuse me, but are you sure that he is still sane? Maybe he doesn't know anything? - Maybe, but it's worth the risk. You know, the game here is worth the candle - the candles are painfully greasy... - And now I have to court this man? - Better than a professional nurse. As a mother, daughter or wife, for example. - Tell me, is this person really that interesting? So valuable? “I think when you look at this little dossier you will learn a lot more.” Then you will be able to appreciate how much the research that Tesla conducted can change our world. And then you will understand that if we have the opportunity to take possession of them, then we cannot give the opportunity to take possession of it for someone else. And, lastly, you will be with him not only at home. There is a wiretap there. But on walks, in the forest, somewhere on rural streets, no one will listen. Try to remember everything. We will give you some technology, but technology is technology, and nothing can replace human memory. - It’s clear... to study again... - You could still become a technician, so the technology itself asks you to pick it up. Best wishes. The rest of the instructions are up to Pyotr Evgenievich. General Peredelkin (and it was undoubtedly him, as you already guessed) stood up and just as calmly and quietly left the room. It became quiet. So much so that it seemed that if a fly began to rub with its legs, the sound of its rubbing would scatter with a loud creak to all corners of the room. Zhanna raised her huge eyes, with difficulty tearing herself away from the folder with the dossier, looked at the faceless figure of Major Korchemny, and said with difficulty: “Tell me honestly, Peter... Evgenievich... what have you gotten me, a poor woman, into?” Chapter twenty-four House on the edge of a village, Moscow region. Domodedovo district. Kolychevo I guess I have never been so worried. Strange feeling. Was she really persuaded? I can't believe it... It seemed to me that she would never agree, such a flighty little thing like this... I wonder what got her? Bribed? Quite... It will be interesting. The further, the more interesting. I thought that I would set impossible conditions and that they would leave me alone for a while. What if it's not HER? Really! How do I know what she really looks like? Movie? Playboy session? But it was an amazing feeling to stumble upon this burning beauty. I immediately felt - a real bitch! I was sure of her intransigence. And yet, who knows whether she is or not? The car in which Mr. Dan Carpenter was traveling, accompanied by an operative, shook on a pothole, so that Dan was forced to break away from his thoughts and stare at the road for a moment. They had just left Moscow, the silhouettes of residential high-rise buildings had not yet melted in the distance, and the Russian landscape had already begun along the road. Knowledgeable people said that the Moscow region is one of the most beautiful places in Russia. Whether this was true or not, Dan did not know. He just had to check it out. And he hoped that he would get here, the Russians had much more freedom than at home. Here is a small forest, a power line went into the distance, crossed a small river, and there, very, very below the horizon, the outlines of some town are visible. And again there is a forest, and fog should spread over the river in the morning. It must be a wonderful sight. ABOUT! How many beautiful and irreplaceable spectacles have I already missed! How much has he been through... And why? Maybe then, in January 1990, everything should have been completed? For what? Why did I dodge that car that was speeding along 12th? Didn’t I understand that sooner or later they would want to get rid of me? I still don’t understand why they left me alone. Did they really hope that I would remember something? Or will I finally lead them to the hiding place? Well, the state can also be naive. Sometimes, instead of cruelty, greed awakens in them. In my case it was the greed of knowledge. Strange world. Whoever owns the information owns the world. Because information can be turned into the most reliable weapon! Then Dan saw that they were approaching almost the very center of the village. More precisely, to the very beautiful place in this simple settlement near Moscow. The local church appeared before the old man’s eyes. It was abandoned. There was a warehouse here. But it was clear how five small domes proudly look into the sky, what heavenly beauty is in this ancient building, covered with moss and grass. - Stop it! I want to go out... Look... - Sorry, you can't. - The accompanying officer did not try to pretend that he could make any concessions, but, seeing the old man’s excitement, he explained: “Really, I’m sorry.” For now, you can’t shine here with us. Then inspect. In the meantime... Mishanya, stand near the church, let him look... The driver nodded his head and, indeed, slowed down near the church. The church was truly in a terrible state. Chickens walked around her yard, heaps of garbage here and there, some holes... A rickety fence of a small cemetery next to a church, the skeleton of a dismantled bell tower. The impression is painful. Dan watched this spectacle from the car, it seems, the center of the village, and here... such a strange sight... - Tell me, what is this? - This? - Well, yes, this? How can the Temple of God be in such a state? Suddenly, the accompanying agent’s smile disappeared from the satisfied face of a man aware of his range of authority. - You know, this is not a simple story. - Here in Russia, simple history does not exist... This was one of those rare cases when Dan was mistaken in Russian colloquial speech. Most likely from excitement. - This temple was built back in the sixteenth century, and in the seventeenth it became stone. Here is one of the most beautiful churches in the Moscow region. Resurrection Church. After the revolution there was a warehouse, a club, even a store. Now the temple has been transferred to the jurisdiction Orthodox Church . I think they will restore it soon. - You think so? - I am sure about that. Maybe our church is not as rich as some of yours, Baptist, for example. But no one even doubts that it will restore. - Why? - Because people still believe in God. Even to this church, even to the destroyed one, even without icons, they came in secret and prayed. So they will restore it. Can you believe me... - What else? - Yes? - You had such a king... Ivan... Ivan the Terrible... - The Terrible... - Yes, Ivan the Terrible... and he had a priest, Fyodor Kolychev, this village and the church, they are somehow connected with the name of this priest? - Well, I’m shocked, you probably memorized our story. - No, but I read something, sure enough... - So, the village belonged to his closest relatives. When Father Fyodor Kolychev became a metropolitan, in fact the head of the Russian Orthodox Church, few of his relatives survived. Well, then many people owned the village. And the church was built on the estate (possession) of the Kolychevs, only a wooden one, and a stone one was built already in 1697, under Peter the Great. - Excuse me, but how do you know so much? - So I’m from here, local, you might say. The Kolychevskys and I fought more than once, especially at dances. So, whoever you hit in the face, you need to know... - There is a purely professional approach. - Let's go, Mishanya, go ahead! And they rushed along the poor road that stretched straight through the entire village. Then we pulled onto a dirt road. The car once again abandoned on some pothole, the driver smiled wryly, probably thinking that I was not used to such roads. He doesn’t know what kind of roads we have... No, there certainly aren’t any like that... It shook twice more, they pulled onto a dirt road, went almost across a field, the driver was driving at a speed of twenty miles per hour, and nothing more. And even this speed seemed excessive to Dan. They found themselves in a small area where the country road made another turn, and then there was a quadrangle intersection. On one side of the intersection there was a slight rise, something like a hill with a rather unpleasant slope, and the other three quadrants were occupied by three houses fenced in with ramshackle picket fences. The agent who accompanied Dan Carpenter to his new place of residence, plump, smiling, covered in pimples on his fleshy nose, did not look at all like an agent, just a good-natured rural intellectual who came to the capital on business, nothing more. He smiled broadly and a little, as it seemed to Dan, shyly, got out of the car, opened the door and said: “Here we are, Mr. Stolyarov.” Dan shrugged his shoulders and slowly began to get out of the not very comfortable car. According to new documents, Dan became Denis Fedorovich Stolyarov. Why such a strange and unoriginal surname? I don’t know, but Dan pronounced precisely such a phrase as “Hello, my name is Denis Fedorovich Stolyarov” unmistakably, and practically without an accent. - Let's go, please! Dan walked through the narrow gate, assessed the outer strength of the gate, ready to collapse, and smiled wryly. - Never mind. We'll put everything in order here. But only in such a way as not to stand out too much from the neighbors. It's like this here, outside. And inside everything is as it should be. We tried our best. Dan had been in Russia for almost a month and a half. He spent this time in a rather cramped room, which his new patrons called “quarantine”. Dan understood that the premises were being prepared for him, they were trying to fulfill all his conditions, so he was not in too much of a hurry, tried not to be intrusive, but firmly stood on preserving all the terms of cooperation, a full list of which he presented on a small pleasure yacht in the middle of Caribbean Sea. It was all the more unexpected that all his conditions were accepted. And for almost a month he was busy teaching a new legend of his own life. Only Russian life. By new version his life, Denis Fedorovich was born in the Baltic states, in an ancient suburb of the city of Riga, which was now called nothing more than the “Old Town”. A family of White Guard officers who settled in the city of Riga really existed. But their last name, of course, was not the Stolyarovs. Denis Fedorovich adopted this surname when he moved to the USSR and changed it, so to speak, for ideological reasons. Stolyarov himself collaborated with the KGB for a long time, distinguished himself as an intelligence officer during the Great Patriotic War, then found himself retired, and died almost fifteen years ago. But this story perfectly explained Denis Fedorovich’s light accent, and his periodic distortion of simple Russian phrases. It was not so much cold as it was windy. Dan walked on the slightly sodden ground and felt the grass, which covered the entire surface of the yard with an even carpet, softly springing under his boots. The door of the house turned out to be new, with a complex locking system. The Office employee accompanying Dan opened all the locks (three in total), entered the house, clicked the security alarm panel, for some reason winked at the elderly man, then stepped back from the passage, as if inviting him into the house. It must be said that during this trip Dan began to get fed up with the mysterious talkative employee of the Office. He was already so accustomed to simple communication with the same Mr. Brown, who, of course, was called Mr. Brown only during their trip together . However, Mr. Brown himself was a man of few words, but the words he spoke and his judgments were weighty, thorough, such people aroused Dan’s involuntary respect. Probably because all his life he had to act like an old fox, well, this also happens... Not everyone wears armor with open visors, some need to put on a disguise to save their lives. Here in Russia, Mr. Brown became Pyotr Evgenievich Korchemny, which did not surprise Dan at all. The house has been recently renovated. It felt somehow uninhabited. No, everything was in place, everything that was needed for life was here, but the house was uninhabited. There was no that breath, a little bit of disorder, a little bit of comfort, which is called the “breath of life.” It was a strange feeling, but he wanted him to come home. In the meantime, he was only given a hotel room, although it was a luxurious room, by their Russian standards. However, why want too much? For what? Let's not rush things. They are already trying as hard as they can, but I can’t help but appreciate these efforts. The house was neat, small, with an ordinary rural layout: two rooms, a large spacious entryway, from where a staircase led to the attic, which previously served as a hayloft, with a porch under a spacious canopy. This house was wooden, solid, with a large kitchen and a real old Russian stove. This kitchen room could serve as a living room, or so it seemed to Dan. - Tell me, is this? Isn't this a sham? Is this a real fireplace? “This is a real Russian stove, even with a stove bench,” the attendant answered, smiling just as stupidly. Firewood in the barn. You know, at first, when the renovation was being done, they wanted to remove it, and then they decided to leave it - such a rarity. There is heating on its own, but if you want, you can heat it with wood. Firewood in the barn. Not only are they there, they also have good firewood, plum wood. If you want to cook meat on the smoke, there are skewers for barbecue, and a barbecue, small, but in general there are all the amenities... - Sorry, I think I understand... Are skewers a type of sword? So? - In general, yes, I can show you if you want... - Yes, of course, I want to, but can I have one request? - Yes... - Well, I’m a little worried and start to say... bad... very bad... - Bad, very bad... - Yes, thank you, bad, very bad... - Yes, that's better. - Yes... I wanted to ask you... one request. - Yes, I’m listening... - I’ll sketch out a drawing... I don’t need a sword, not a point, I need a lattice, made of steel, stainless steel... Right? - I understand. Drop a line, let's do it. - Very grateful. - No, you’re welcome, it’s just better to say: “thank you, I’m very grateful to you.” - Gut. Understood. And Dan quickly sketched out a small drawing, and he did it so simply, quickly and clearly that the employee accompanying him just scratched his head: oh, this old man is not simple, oh, he is not simple! Watch how your fingers run, your thoughts are ahead of you, the drawing is ready in a minute. And they told me to look for signs of dementia, but then you yourself will be weak-minded, and the old man will never do anything in the world. - Okay, get settled. Where should you put your things, in the right room or in the left? Dan waved vaguely to the left. - Well, okay. Mishanya, turn to the left! That's it, we're off. Happy staying. Dan again waved his hand so that they would just leave him alone. He was no longer in the mood to talk with this talkative guy. And why do they keep such idiots in such an Office? Or the guy is not an idiot and is trying to piss me off so that I will open up, no, it’s unlikely, of course, they will play a game, but something so sophisticated, I won’t believe it. It seems to me that everything should be simpler here. And they keep their promises exactly as they promised. The last point was about the large wicker rocking chair. Dan Carpenter's old dream. The dream of a person in whom such a chair for some reason was associated with the concept of “home”. And this house was where you could calmly sit down, relax, and sway to the rhythmic, barely audible creaking of wood. Inhaling the aroma of pine that permeates this entire house, hearing the floorboards creaking under someone’s steps... By the way, precisely because Dan associated the rocking chair with the house, then there, on Brockton Avenue, in the small Abington town, this chair was not there. And not because Dan couldn’t afford to buy this chair, it’s not such a big expense, no, precisely because Dan’s soul couldn’t afford it, he didn’t feel that this house had become his refuge... And this ? What about this house, will it become a refuge for him? From today until the end of his days? And Dan began to think, mentally running through his whole life. The old man was brought out of his deep thoughts by the very creaking of the floorboards that he had so dreamed of hearing just now. The floorboards creaked again, one door opened, then a second... Now it was the turn of the door to the room. The door swung open, so that in the rectangle of light Dan saw a slender female figure. He had not yet seen the face, but somehow he immediately felt that it was HER. Chapter twenty-five Despair Moscow, South-Eastern district, Maryino district, Lugovoy passage A bell rang in the apartment on Lugovoy. The call is cheerful and persistent. Only Gosha called like that, and only when he returned from tour. Usually he opened the door with his key, but when he returned from tour, everything was different. He wanted to be greeted with fanfare. Each trip for Igor was something like a holiday. A holiday when you return home and the table is already set. And mom made dumplings, and the most delicious ones in the world stood there. buckwheat with meat, which my mother is a real master at. And SHE is waiting, waiting for him, despite any disagreements. Igor already knew his wife - Zhanna quickly exchanged anger for mercy, and when you bring business travel expenses and she has to go shopping, as it is now fashionable to say, but in simple terms, the opportunity to spend this money on herself in stores, buy a fashionable rag, there is a completely , completely different. And further. Igor never returned from a tour empty-handed. He always brought gifts: to mom, dad, sister, who has been married for six years and lives in the middle of nowhere, and he always had a gift for her. And, of course, a gift to Zhanna. This time Igor tried. He bought something that Zhanna had always dreamed of very much. Set of women's underwear. A set with serious erotic overtones. Its color is red. She looks so exciting when she puts on her red one... My imagination has once again imagined the picture: he undresses her to dress her... No... she won’t allow this... She will throw him out of the room and check everything herself , try on, measure out... And only then, pulling on a robe, he will allow him to enter, and then, to the accompaniment of slow music, she will give him a dance - with a slow demonstration of what happened. And when HE goes crazy with HER for the umpteenth time, only then will she allow him... Igor threw away the obsession and pressed the bell again. Mom opened the door. She, according to tradition, was happy, but there was something in her joy that was not entirely sincere, everything seemed to be as usual - the same hugs, the same everything, but something was wrong. And Igor immediately noticed something... - Mom, hello! Something happened? How is your health? Or something with dad? - No, no, son, everything is fine... Are you going to eat? - What a question? I'm hungry like a pack of wolves in the snowy winter. And Igor, along with two traveling bags, burst into parents' house . Tatyana Tikhonovna walked into the kitchen, waiting for her son to wash his hands and come running to the table. Everything was covered as usual. True, my father was not at the table. A decanter with his favorite vodka of his own production stood on the table, but Vyacheslav Anatolyevich was absent from the kitchen. And not because he didn’t want to eat, he just understood what a difficult conversation was ahead, and therefore he preferred to take refuge in his room: they say, you, mother, started this mess, now you can clear it up. Of course, Tatyana Tikhonovna was in pain. And not because for the first time in her life her husband so precisely and clearly expressed disapproval of her action, no, just why did he shift all the dirty work onto her shoulders? Not only did she kick her daughter-in-law out of the house, but couldn’t he talk to his son himself, like a man? No. He leaves all the dirty work to her. Clean! And Igorek is just as clean-cut as his dad. How can he tolerate this girl in my house? Doesn't he notice that she's making fun of him? Nothing. I need to save my family again. Where can I get away from this? Igor entered the kitchen, already washed from the road, in his hands he held two packages - one larger, the second slightly smaller. The smaller one was handed to my mother. “Well, as always, I will have a smaller gift,” Tatyana Tikhonovna muttered to herself somehow unkindly, and immediately scolded herself, saying she couldn’t take her bad mood out on her son. - Thank you, son. - she said as friendly as she could. - Oh, where's dad? - Igor twirled the package in his hands, which he was supposed to give to his father. - You know, he went to bed early today, he says he’s tired. Only I know he has blood pressure again. As soon as his blood pressure rises, he immediately becomes drowsy. Tatyana Tikhonovna shamelessly continued to lie to her son. “I should go with my father to the clinic, otherwise he’s hiding everything from me.” - Of course, let's go, mom, what should we eat? - As always, everything is your favorite. And Tatyana began to fuss, moving the plates of food closer to her son. And still the feeling of awkwardness did not leave her. This awkwardness was subconscious, kind of stupid, but it was there nonetheless. Two feelings were still fighting in the woman: hatred of her daughter-in-law, who shamelessly cuckolded her beloved son, and fear, fear that her Igor would not be able to bear the separation from his beloved woman. And the fact that her son loved this slut scared Tatyana Tikhonovna most of all. Of course, her Igor should not have been a hostage to female jealousy. So what to do? I had to not regret what was done. Moreover, Tatyana Tikhonovna tried to back down. Three days before her son’s arrival, she somehow overcame herself and called Zhanna home, or, more precisely, her parents. And, surprisingly, she managed to find her daughter-in-law at home. And when Tatyana Tikhonovna suggested that Zhanna return because Igor was returning from a business trip, Zhanna only snorted in response and threatened her, the old woman, that she would take revenge on her cheerful family. Bitch! A real bitch... is it my fault that I couldn't stand it? What about Igorekha, can he endure it? I don't understand, I don't understand anything... Pull yourself together. Get yourself together. Calm down. Everything has already been done. Let everything happen now. Don't change everything. I'm not going to call THIS anymore. Just once, at least one man in this house will act like a man. - Mom, incomparable. Everything is delicious, especially the dumplings. Yes, why is Zhanna late today? I prepared such an incomparable gift for her there, I think she will really like it. - Oh... Igorek, can I give you some more dumplings? - Mom... not Yuli... are you hiding something from me? Well, ma... speak... - Sorry, son... I'll keep everything clean. - Mom, you're scaring me. Speak... What happened? - Dad and I... In general, we made a decision and suggested that Zhanna move in with her parents for now. - Wait, what does this mean? Did you kick her out? No... wait... DID YOU kick her out? YOU...? - Igorek, understand... we couldn’t look at this whoreness anymore... she’s openly cuckolding you. I can’t stand her boos... It can’t be like that... She wants to go out, but not in front of my eyes! - Wait, mom, didn’t Zhanka go on a spree before? Well, tell me, tell me? - I was on a spree... - Did I tolerate it? Or do you think that I am deaf, blind and stupid, like a Siberian felt boot? - Son, understand, I am your mother... am I not a living person? Don't I have feelings? How can I bear it? After all, I’m a living person, Igoresha, alive... Watch how a new man walks her home every day? - Mother, don’t distort, you know, she’s not with everyone... - Well, of course, she’s not with everyone, she’s only with the Biryulevskys, but how many men are there in Biryulevsky? Lord, not a son, but a rag... At least someone should have put her in her place! - Well, did you install it? Where is she now? Is it in the corner? Or on your knees? Where is she, mom? - I got it right... she and she... I also like SHE... what, there are no others? Or won't you find it? Or are you not handsome to me? Eh, Igorekha? - Mom, I actually already found... You see... she’s like that... and she still came back to me... Because she loved her. .. and now... she’s proud, she won’t come back to me now... What have you done, mom? - Lord, I found a loss... unprecedented. The whore is a whore, well, she left, well, let her go there! Remember, you took it to rehearsal, what did your director, Yuzefovich, tell you? Do you remember? You said it yourself, laughed, and Yuzefovich told you that ETA would sleep with any director for the sake of a role. Said? Igor nodded his head resignedly. Tatyana Tikhonovna took the pose of denouncing Socrates and began to speak even more confidently, in the most indisputable tone of which she was capable. - Do you also remember when you moved to us, do you remember, well, remember how her mother said that in order to get into engineering, she slept with the rector? Do you remember? Spreading your Zhanka's legs would make me sneeze! And you say she was returning to you... She was returning to the kennel, where there was a ceiling above her head and a bone in a plate. And the stupid dog that spreads in front of her like ivy along the wall... Eh, son, this thing is blind, love... oh, how blind... And this story with French directors? Everyone says that Zhanka starred in porn... That's it! - Mother! What are you talking about... stop... Igor said this in such a voice that Tatyana Tikhonovna instantly got scared. She had never heard SUCH a scary voice from her son. Colorless, extinct, fallen, the voice not of a person, but of a walking dead man. - Igoreshka! What happened to you? - With me? Nothing... She won’t come back now... I know that... - Well, calm down, son, calm down... Tatyana Tikhonovna grabbed Igor’s head with her hands, pressed him to her chest, forced him to press into her body, as if he I found myself back in my distant, distant childhood again. - Well, pull yourself together... think, why do you need her? She doesn't love you. She sleeps with you because of money, only because of money... she herself screamed that she would sleep with you only for money. Dad and I heard everything. That's it... If you hadn't heard. My heart wouldn't break... Do you hear? Igor, you are mine... - What have you done, mom? What have you done? Why does all this matter? What if I was happy with everything? What didn't suit you? What? - Son, understand, well, you can’t do this, you can’t... People... People see everything. People hear everything. People know everything... How can I look people in the eyes? How? And that’s what they’re already saying about us... everyone is saying it. Like, we keep a whore in the house. It’s not our house, but a brothel... Igor... I can’t stand this anymore, I can’t... - I should have gone to the apartment... I, a fool, didn’t listen to Zhanna then... My stupidity is mine guilt, I have to pay for it. .. - What should you pay, Igoresha? You will find yourself a new one. I know for sure... And you will live in perfect harmony... - No, mom, we won’t... I don’t have a soul anymore. Was. Yes, you kicked her out. And, completely unexpectedly, Tatyana Tikhonovna began to cry... Stupidly, like a peasant, wiping away uninvited tears with her sleeve. Chapter twenty-six First date Moscow region. Domodedovo district. Kolychevo It's probably worth telling what happened to a girl named Zhanna Kryuchkova in those few weeks before she first met a seventy-year-old man named Dan Carpenter. Do you know what it’s like to suddenly grow up? This is when, instead of drinking and partying, there is a strict schedule, when there is too much to do and you just have to keep up, when instead of gray uncertainty, uncertainty appears on the horizon, but in some other, absolutely rosy tones. And you begin to understand that in fact you are not a dissolute slut, but a real workaholic. Zhanna has long been accustomed to the fact that success does not come so easily. Yes, there was a happy accident, there was an extras, there was participation in the filming in an inconspicuous, wordless role under the patronage of her ex-husband, but in order to achieve something, she had to work hard - Zhanna understood this perfectly well. She really worked like an ox at the institute. And there is so much new here, and who said that this new thing will not be useful to her in her acting craft? And you like intensive training in English (what if he says something in his native language, but you don’t catch the thought, huh?), and classes with a psychologist, and preparation for working with some specific technical means. I'm not talking about memory training, here the trainers came across fertile material; the actress should have a decent supply of memory capabilities. And if we add to this the acting lessons that were given by completely different teachers, so different from GITIS, so to speak, acting in the field can save an actor’s life. They say girls grow up quickly. Maybe yes. They grow up especially quickly when they want to achieve something, and the opportunity to achieve it appears. Previously, all your acting was acting. You were ready to sleep with any director so that he would take you for at least some role. And they only hired you for the role of their personal whore. And in this role you were incomparable. But nothing more. Repeating the same roles always has the same result: fruitless attempts to break through a blank wall. And then... And then it turns out that the wall itself moves away somewhere. You know, the iron curtain instantly rusts and crumbles to smithereens. And it turns out that you are capable of moving mountains... A loafer, a slacker, a mediocrity, sucking on their super-talented son. Well, I’ll take revenge on him, I’ll definitely take revenge on him... no, not because she threw me out, no... But because I turned out to be such a wimp... Well, I’ve always hated men who are only men pretending. And he himself is a rag. He never grew out from under his mother’s skirt. He should suck a tit, not with normal woman fuck... And, to tell the truth, he fucks poorly. He cums quickly and immediately falls asleep. Mattress with mattress. He thinks that besides his one-two-three, there’s nothing interesting about sex. Also a giant to me. I need to tell him somehow that he was worse than any of my lovers. Anyone. No, I'm lying... there was one... he was even worse. It's disgusting to remember. And his hands were sweaty... and... no, I don’t want to remember. Dot. Now Zhanna was nervous. She had a meeting ahead of her. The first meeting with a person whose marriage has already been registered. The stamp in the passport had been there for three days. Naturally, Zhanna could not help but worry. Finally, Alexander Simonovich arrived. For the entire duration of the operation, he was the main person in contact with Zhanna and Dan. He had to take Zhanna to study, bring her home, the only one who could stay with them without causing righteous anger from higher authorities. I must say that Zhanna has already been to Kolychev. One of the Office employees, who was responsible for repairs in the house, showed Zhanna the structure of the house and several of its features: the emergency call button for help, for example, he also explained that in case of serious trouble, you need to quickly fall to the floor and crawl to the hatch in the center of the room - the basement was armored, and there was also a button in the basement that detonated dynamite sticks placed in the house to divert the attention of the attackers. Of course, as Zhanna was told, she needs to know this in case of the most extreme case, which, of course, it won’t come to... Having received another large amount of knowledge for all occasions, Zhanna felt very uncomfortable. And this feeling of defenselessness did not pass so quickly. Most likely, even now she felt just as insecure, but fear, big Fear, from which it squeezes in the stomach, like some kind of fist hits you in the body... and so, this Fear, Fear with a capital F, is absolutely in Zhanna’s mind was absent, as if he did not exist at all. And this is not because Zhanna was stupid or religiously believed everything that was told to her, not at all. She was just a determined woman. And having made a decision once, she was no longer going to back down. Perhaps Jeanne could be called a fatalist. She did not worship Fatum, but firmly believed in destiny. And she absolutely knew that she was talented, that she would be able to get through. And she will be able to make people talk about her not only on the pages of tabloid newspapers. Alexander confidently drove the car along the practical off-road: the part of the village that Zhanna hated most of all began. I had to hold on to the handle above the door. But Zhanna hated riding in such an uncomfortable position. Sasha just grinned, looking at how nervous the young woman was, and did not try to calm her down. In the end, she called herself a load, get into the back. Come on, girl, grow up... It’s not your job to seduce the directors, here the game is already big. The Black Forest, as the residents of this town called it, remained on the right. It was angry in the forest. In autumn, when the trees fell and bare, black trunks stood, the forest fully lived up to its name. But that’s not why they called him that. It was in this forest that the guardsmen of Tsar Ivan the Terrible massacred the entire family of the Kolychev boyars, along with their servants and household members. The corpses were burned and the ashes were thrown into the wind. For this villainous deed, the forest was nicknamed “Black”. And only a hundred years ago, people began to go to this forest, which had a bad reputation among the people. Mushroom pickers were the first to discover it. Black milk mushrooms and porcini mushrooms grew in abundance in the black forest. At the end of the twentieth century, the black glory of the black forest was almost completely erased from popular memory. All that remained was the strange name, which many associated with the blackness of this forest during the pre-winter period. And here is the house in which part of her life will now take place. She motioned for Alexander to stay in the car, while she resolutely headed straight to the front door. She walked through the hallway, hesitated a little before entering the room, but only a little, decisively pushed the left wing of the door, which creaked a little, opened... And she saw HIM... He was sitting in a rocking chair , dressed in a long raincoat that was unsuitable for the weather. He was an elderly man slightly above average height, rather dry, most likely even thin. He was clean-shaven, wore an old-fashioned hairstyle with a parting strictly in the middle of his head, was without glasses, and looked at the woman who entered calmly and openly, without any fear. Zhanna could not see the color of his eyes, most likely due to the fact that in the darkened room his pupils were very large. It was difficult to guess the man’s age: he could be in his late sixties, or even in his eighties. Most likely, neither one nor the other, but Zhanna could not yet understand this complex issue so precisely: what the man looked like, she knew for sure that he was already seventy-one years old. And that was quite enough for her. And then suddenly Zhanna was attacked by an attack of timidity. She remained standing in the doorway and could not move a single step. Zhanna was silent. She understood that the pause was quite awkward, but since she had already taken a pause, she continued to drag it out. In the end, there is nothing more banal than silence, but there is nothing more meaningful than silence. And Zhanna remembered very well that an intelligent person, when he doesn’t know what to say, remains silent. Dan was also silent. He just didn't know what to say and tried to stop his heartbeat. My heart was beating wildly. His temples were pounding, adrenaline was roaming through his circulatory system, causing his hormones to rage with terrible force. And yet he came to his senses first. Dan took a deep breath and said: “Hello, Zhanna.” He tried to speak Russian clearly, with virtually no accent. - Hello, Denis Fedorovich! Jeanne's voice trembled noticeably. - Can I just Dan... - Sorry, I was given precise instructions. - I understand... Dan fell silent again, but not for long - Come in, Zhanna, don’t stand in the doorway. - Yes, of course... Zhanna shifted slightly to the left, and it so happened that the light from the window fell right on her face. For a moment it seemed to Zhanna that he was looking at her in some very special way... Really? So what now? She was not exactly embarrassed, she was a little confused, but, remembering the good advice of the regular instructors, she tried to behave as naturally as possible. And yet she felt uneasy. - Sorry, Zhanna, I have to make sure that you are you... I hope you understand me? I think you should have been instructed on this as well. - Yes... Zhanna simply answered and began to undress. When she was left only in stockings and shoes, Dan suddenly said: - There's enough... that's it, more ears... If you're Zhanna, you should know what I'm talking about... - Yes. Zhanna interrupted Dan a little harshly, extended her hands to her ears, peeled off the tape, allowing her ears to straighten as they naturally desired... Dan watched this action silently, one might say with his mouth open. He made a sign with his fingers, Zhanna understood and turned her back, Dan continued to look at something, something of his own, only he knew and understood. - So, it’s you. - Well, is that enough? - she said to Dan, still irritated. - Quite. You can eat and get dressed. Out of excitement, Dan again slightly messed up the construction of his sentence, but Zhanna did not pay any attention to this. She proudly turned her back to Dan, and, picking up her folded clothes, slowly walked towards the door. She did not want to get dressed in the presence of a man about whom she knew only one thing - he had now officially become her legal husband. Chapter twenty-seven Why can't the general sleep? Moscow. Lubyanka. Office. Peredelkino. General Konstantin Lvovich Peredelkin came to his office so early in the morning that, most likely, it should be called late at night. It was half past four in the morning. The data received through his line did not allow the general to sleep. He understood that these data required verification and control; moreover, they were no longer entirely within the line of his Office; they would have to be transferred to a completely different department. But something bothered the general, something alarmed him, something forced him to pay special attention to this data. It was something like intuition, not even intuition, no, something like a premonition, predestination, which arose in very rare cases. And now this feeling of the importance of what was happening haunted the old intelligence officer. He thought about whether it was worth waiting until the morning, but decided that it wasn’t worth it after all. I dialed the phone number. A couple of minutes later, the voice of a completely sleepy Major Korchemny was heard on the phone. - I’m listening... - That’s it, Pyotr Evgenievich, I’m sorry for waking you up, but there’s nothing to do. Get ready and drive here to the Office, there is something to do. Urgent. Konstantin Lvovich understood that the last phrase was unnecessary. If they call at such a time, it means the matter is truly urgent. - Got it, I will. The innkeeper was laconic to the extreme. The end call sounded on the phone. The general hung up the phone, then walked around the office and opened the safe. There were only a few thin folders with the most recent cases, which the general had not yet decided to put into action or put in the archive forever. What Korchemny had to do was in the lowest and thinnest folder. Konstantin Lvovich pulled out a folder, then opened the box with his strategic reserve. There were very good Cuban cigars there. This variety was made exclusively for Cuban leaders. These cigars also came to him, the General of the Office, as gifts. So to speak, the result of Kontor's exchange of pleasantries. Due to the fact that relations with Cuba have become Lately more than cool, supplies of real Cuban cigars to Russia abruptly stopped. But the passion for good smoking remains. What was bought was of significantly worse quality. Therefore, General Peredelkin smoked these cigars in the most extreme cases, for example, when he made some important decision. And now, while waiting for the major to arrive, Konstantin Lvovich indulged in his most ruinous habit: smoking expensive cigars. By the way, this box was brought to the general through Pyotr Korchemny as a present by Major of the Cuban Security Service Richardo Gomez. Strong tobacco climbed into his lungs, with every breath the general felt that energy was overwhelming him, his thoughts were brightening, everything was lining up in a more or less clear pattern. So, recent events prove: a purposeful game is being played against Russia, and its goal is to completely collapse the state. For some, the collapse of the USSR was not enough; for others, it was necessary to ensure that not a trace remained of Russia as a strong state. After all, Russia is not only and not so much the legal successor of the USSR, no, it is the heir Russian Empire, and this is even more dangerous for someone than the Evil Empire - the USSR. Zbigniew Brzezinski's group once believed Central Asia the soft underbelly of the USSR, she believed that it was from there that the collapse of the state would begin. It later turned out that the fish was rotting from the head, that the regional interests of some leaders would outweigh the arguments of reason, that it would seem to someone that being an appanage prince was better than being a duma boyar under a strong tsar. Everything was decided by money. BIG money. Plus the outright weakness and short-sightedness of the leadership of the USSR. But the group, which was then Brzezinski's group, did not stop there. They were joined by several other very influential groups and very influential individuals. And the goal of these groups was simple: to finally deal with Russia. Eliminate the US competitor in the world community. And eliminate it completely. Russia, as a powerful power capable of resisting the United States, had to cease to exist. AND the best way they chose the most reliable - the parade of sovereignties. Only the vector of influence has changed. Now the main trump card of Russia's opponents was to be the Caucasus. It seemed to Peredelkin that in Major Korchemny he had found not only his devoted employee, but also a like-minded person. That is why the general was delighted when the major, clean-shaven and trim, entered the office. - Did you call, Konstantin Lvovich? It was not a question; rather, it was a statement of fact. There was no trace left of the sleepy voice. "Well done, even without morning coffee“I got by,” the general decided to himself, after which he opened the cabinet; there stood a small coffee maker, given to him for his fiftieth birthday by his colleagues. Peredelkin dropped the coffee, turned on the machine, which immediately began to make noise, generating steam, and turned to the major. “Have a seat, Pyotr Evgenievich.” How are things going with the Old Man object? The Korchemny understood that he was not called to get information on such an ordinary matter. But a difficult conversation had to start somewhere. The General preferred to start it from afar. “They were in contact.” The Old Man was convinced is that it's really her." - Good. Satisfied? - Yes... It seems to me that he himself doesn't know how to behave in this situation. - That's how? So what? - I think there's no point in us rushing him or putting pressure on him. "We need him to absolutely voluntarily cooperate with us. - You think correctly, Pyotr Evgenievich. Absolutely right. Yes, we love these absolute phrases. You just need to understand that nothing absolute exists in this world. You know, Pyotr Evgenievich ... I have one more assignment... And the assignment is very delicate. The General heard the coffee maker click, signaling the end of the coffee brewing process. He turned, calmly extended his hand, threw a cube of refined sugar into the cup of coffee, put in a small silver spoon, and then handed the cup of coffee to Korchemny. - Information came through my channels that our old... ill-wishers... began to pay increased attention to the Chechen region, I think that the center of instability will be the area around Chechnya, Ossetia, Dagestan, the entire North Caucasus. The innkeeper sipped his coffee, continuing to listen attentively to the general. - A very difficult situation. I suspect that if I transmit information through the usual channels to Averchenko’s department, then... we will delay the situation... I suspect that even in the Office we cannot trust everyone. Yes... Difficult times, Peter Evgenievich. Especially reforms. Do you understand how difficult it has become? The people do not accept government reforms. But this is our state, our president, and our government. Therefore, we must have information. I'm not sure this information will affect anything. Immediately. But in order to build some strategic plans, we need her. Korchemny nodded his head... - Well, I see you understand me... We lost fourteen republics. There was at least some kind of cover for this. But losing some other parts of the state is like death. In general, your task... Go to Chechnya. I know you have friends there... So... Collect as much information as possible. About the main ones characters in Chechnya. It seems to me that it is Chechnya, and not Ossetia, and not even Dagestan, that will become a source of trouble. It was with great difficulty that we managed to conquer Chechnya in our time. But the Chechens remained an unconquered people. It seems so to me. Check the old man's premonitions. Here's another thing... look, such a figure is starting to rise there, General Dzhokhar Dudayev. Take a closer look at him. Leave immediately. No official business trip. You're on vacation. You act at your own peril and risk. I hope you understand this? - Yes sir! - Fine. Write a leave application. I'll endorse him. And one more thing... This is money for the trip. No communication channels. You'll report back when you arrive from there. Yes, I will oversee the Old Man’s case personally. - Got it. - Then get started. Take action, son... take action. Chapter twenty-eight New me Moscow region. Domodedovo district. Kolychevo She was driving home to Kolychevo. She wasn't there for exactly five days. Now she drove, still not believing that it was already behind her. "This" - Plastic surgery, which she had done in a small regional clinic in the Moscow region, was done in order to forever rid her of the largest complex that had haunted her all adult life. Now her ears were completely normal. Zhanna drove and still gently touched her ears, not believing the new sensations. It was something unforgettable! Forget about the tape, about the hated makeup glue, just live, not paying attention to the hairstyle, which was supposed to constantly cover up her cosmetic flaw. Now her ears were becoming her dignity. And yet... she didn’t believe that such an operation could be done so quickly and so expertly here, in Russia... She knew that such an operation was expensive, and she had to wear a bandage - for two weeks, or even a month , at least, but here - on the fourth day the stitches are removed, and on the fifth they say: you are free! Where has this been seen? And they also guarantee that the result will be positive if I don’t constantly pull my ears. Is all this really true? Suddenly Jeanne's thoughts turned to her new husband. Dan seemed to her to be a not so old man, yes, of course, old in years, but still full of strength and energy. She saw that his eyes reflected his remarkable intelligence and became timid, because for the first time she was not sure of the effectiveness of her charms. Yes, she could stir up any man, but it was assumed: any sexually active man, and as for him, an old man of about seventy, Zhanna was so unsure that she felt some kind of timidity when communicating with this man. This one was wrong. She shouldn't have been shy, but... she was... It was wrong, she shouldn't have felt anything for this man, but she did. Zhanna dug into herself and realized that the first feeling, the strongest one that she constantly experiences, is genuine interest. Surprisingly, she wonders if this man is really who he claims to be, did he really know the great Tesla, did he really remain alive in the end? Zhanna pulled out a mirror and a powder compact, ostensibly with the goal of powdering her nose, but she was little interested in the nose... She carefully examined the ears, making sure that she had managed to achieve a lot. Now everything looked so right that she even became bored looking at herself in the mirror. Well, I can’t please... it was a defect, I suffered, then the problem disappeared, I’m so sorry that I lost my originality... But what the hell is originality? Well, sometimes such stupidity comes out of me... And it seems like it’s not a blonde, but rushing... Zhanna knew her strengths , knew what she used to attract men, she knew that she could conquer them, and she knew what she had to do for this. She did this involuntarily, she did not train her abilities, she acted at the level of instincts. Such women used to be called witches, because they knew too well what magic a hot female body possesses. Perhaps she, too, was a witch, but not the one who cooks decoctions of stinking roots in a dark and musty dugout, but one of those who flies on a broom on Walpurgis Night to the ball, because she does not see herself anywhere except at the ball at Himself. .. This house and this old man... can he really do anything else? Zhanna caught herself thinking that she was thinking about Dan as a man, and she was interested in precisely the fact whether he could do something like a man or not... No one imposed any behavior on her. The important thing is not whether she will sleep with this old man; most likely, this will not be necessary... No, she must find a contact with him, a key, and Zhanna still had no idea how to do this. But still, an old body... brrrrr... Zhanna remembered the dean, then another producer, and also... no, he was so disgusting, covered in warts and some large colorless bags. No, one cannot expect any pleasure from an old body with its sluggish capabilities. God! What am I thinking? About pleasure, really... Really... nonsense... The car stopped at the house... It was late autumn. The trees had already turned black, making the forest nearby really seem like a Black Forest. It was not white clouds that ran across the sky, but heavy leaden clouds. If only it didn’t rain, if only it didn’t rain... - I thought somehow on my own. Zhanna got out of the car and waved her hand to Alexander. He silently nodded, gave the gas, which caused heavy wet clods of earth to burst out from under the wheels, turned around, a little awkwardly, barely fitting into the potholes of the local road, and only after all these flickerings began to pick up speed, heading towards Moscow. Tomorrow at exactly seven he will be here to pick up Zhanna and take her to school. Tomorrow is Tuesday... That means four days of school, and then two days off... Lord! What will I do on the weekend? Zhanna resolutely headed into the house. It seemed that during her absence nothing in the house had changed. Dan was sitting in the same position in the same chair, in the same clothes, which is the most interesting thing. Zhanna looked at his motionless figure; it seemed that her new husband was thinking about something, completely not noticing her. But this was the wrong thought. Suddenly Dan extended his hand and said: “Hello, Zhanna, come here.” .. And he pointed her to a chair opposite his chair - Hello, Denis Fedorovich. - Zhanna rattled off by rote. - After which she said in a completely different way: - Come here... OK? - Yes, I realized that I was mistaken... For some reason you understand that you were mistaken when there is nothing left to eat. ABOUT! Again, I didn’t say that much... - Denis Fedorovich, let’s agree... if you apologize for every wrong phrase, we won’t get that far... I will correct you... sometimes, when the mistake is very stupid, or some subtleties will need to be explained, well, I don’t know... And you will listen and not apologize. - Yes, thank you, Zhanna... You know, I wanted to ask you a little. This is not urgent, but it is very important to me. So? - Basically... I'm listening to you. - Sorry, first one more nuance - when does a husband say “you” to his wife, when “you”? This is the subtlety you were talking about. - Denis Fedorovich, please don’t worry, when you worry, you immediately start constructing phrases incorrectly. Come on, do you agree? Let's be on first-name terms for now. I know that in English there is no such treatment, but we have it. And “you” sounds much more respectful than “you.” - Is “you” a little more intimate? - Not really. Sometimes yes, more intimately, sometimes rudely or contemptuously. This is where the nuances begin. One word cannot play any role. Only the combination of words matters. “You, Nina, are a fool” and “You, Nina, are a fool” are phrases that are completely different in meaning... But the text is almost the same. But you, Denis Fedorovich, were not at all interested in these nuances; that’s not what you wanted to ask, right? - This is true. Absolutely. I wanted to know... why did you... did you... agree? Sorry... this is important to me... is there any compromising evidence? Or do they know how to persuade? What were you interested in so much that you gave your consent? Is this the operation? Is there such a problem? - Excuse me, Denis Fedorovich, can I ask you a question, I would like to hear the answer to it, and then I will tell you how it is... - Please... - Why did you choose me? Frankly. What, there were no others? Our decks are now in high demand in your magazines. Order any... - Frankly, frankly. First of all, you took a good photo. It would be very difficult to replace you. Secondly, these ears that you corrected are another factor. I read about this, I realized that there are all possibilities so as not to be deceived. But, most importantly, it seemed to me that you had character... You looked like a real bitch... Capricious, eccentric. I was sure that you would refuse... But you agreed. It's not unpleasant, but I didn't expect it to be like that. Zhanna thought about it. To be honest, she herself didn’t fully understand WHY she agreed. Yes, there were hints about some possibilities, but nothing was promised. It seems that she was tricked, or maybe she pulled out a lucky ticket. Who knows? And yet, how to explain why she did not give in to the flashing thought of abandoning that conversation? How? Curiosity? Call of Duty? Fi... This is so boring... Finally Zhanna said: - You know, Denis Fedorovich... I can’t explain this now, probably there is no simple and clear answer to this question. Let's do this, you will understand our life a little more, and we will definitely return to this issue... I know that we will return, it is really very important for you, isn’t it? - Yes, thank you... - And also, I’m a little tired from the road, I’ll lie down and then cook something for dinner. Fine? - Gut... - Well, excellent... Zhanna suppressed a sigh of relief, which was already ready to escape from her chest, and went to her room... There she fell on the bed and closed her eyes. Sleep came instantly. Chapter twenty-nine Gala dinner Moscow region. Domodedovo district. Kolychevo It’s good to work in a kitchen that has everything a modern housewife can dream of. Zhanna appreciated both the luxurious stove and the expensive equipment that cut, cooked, and even washed dishes! ABOUT washing machine , let “Vyatka”, one could only dream. Happy day with fire! Large refrigerator. And it's all full of food. It was Sasha who tried. He brought Dan food and was his link with the outside world. In addition to food, Dan received books and newspapers. I must say that the speed of delivery sometimes frightened him. He received some newspapers the very next day, and some books even before their official publication. Zhanna woke up feeling like she had slept all her life. It was a completely new feeling, so different from anything she had experienced so far. And then Zhanna realized: she missed the city noise. Here in the village it was surprisingly quiet and calm. The road from village to village, near which their house was located, was not one of the most popular. Twice a day a milk truck passed by to collect tribute from the villagers, and occasionally a stray car would rush by at a speed of fifteen kilometers per hour. And the rest of the time there is silence. The silence is amazing, a silence that has never happened before in her life. No, Zhanna has been to dachas more than once, sometimes she even spent the night at the dacha if she was with someone and for what reason, but just to fall asleep - not in a drunken stupor, but simply... This has never happened with Zhanna before . She woke up, sniffed the air through her nostrils to feel the smells of this house filling her new room. And Zhanna felt that she positively liked the smell of this house. And then she stood up, stretched, like a domestic cat stretches in the morning, looking at her owners getting ready for work, and purred... no, it was purring in her soul. And after that she went to the kitchen to rattle pots. Dan wasn't reading anything now. He listened to completely new, hitherto unfamiliar music sounding in his kitchen: his woman was cooking there! It must be said that Dan did not wallow in illusions, he understood that Zhanna did not have any feelings for him, and was unlikely to experience anything. It turned out that he received from the Russians an expensive elite whore complete with a housewife. Well, that’s not bad at all in old age! Zhanna tried her best. She cooked fried potatoes the way her mother cooked them - with garlic and pieces of meat, made a salad, and stewed beef cubes so that they simply melted in her mouth. Zhanna never cooked for her ex-husband - there her mother-in-law, Tatyana Tikhonovna, reigned supreme in the kitchen and did not allow anyone into her kingdom. In her opinion, only she could and knew how to cook. And everything that others cook can only be thrown in the trash. And so it was when Zhanna, out of stupidity and inexperience, prepared dinner for her husband. All her brew solemnly went into the trash, amid shouts that it was impossible to eat, and that her Igor would have health problems after eating such food, and he didn’t like someone like her, such a fool, she didn’t understand basic things! Zhanna quickly learned this lesson and came into the kitchen only to have something to eat. a quick fix. And I only cooked for myself when my mother-in-law was at work and had some free time and mood. Now Zhanna remembered that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. That’s why I tried to show off my little culinary miracles. After everything was ready, Zhanna set the table, pulled out a beautiful new tablecloth, she liked the taste with which the dishes were chosen, it seemed that all her wishes were taken into account. In the center of the table she placed two glasses on thin stems and a bottle of dry Moldavian wine. In her sincere conviction, this type of wine was not much inferior to expensive French wines. However, who knows whether Dan will be able to appreciate this final touch of their first dinner together? - Dinner is served! - she told Dan, who was reading something in his favorite chair. No, he had gotten up more than once, even changed for dinner. And Zhanna could not help but note this pleasant fact for her. Her fictitious new husband turned out to be a real neat guy. He walked into the kitchen, raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then Zhanna noted another fact that was important to her. Dan didn't smell old at all. You know, that unpleasant, sickening smell of old age, of flesh that is decaying, the smell of a stale body. This smell appears in the house where old people live, and comes not only from them, this smell quickly permeates everything in the house, even its inhabitants. And this smell, which cannot be washed off, cannot be repelled by any perfume, the smell that was the most unpleasant of Jeanne’s premonitions, this smell was completely absent! Zhanna, who has always been very sensitive to any scents, listed this fact as an advantage of their stay together. She remembered how, perhaps in retaliation against her mother-in-law, no, simply because she could not do otherwise, she sent all the deodorants, colognes, and aftershaves that the mother had provided her son with into the basket. She bought him only those scents that did not irritate her delicate nose. When Tatyana Tikhonovna noticed during their dinner together that Igor smelled somehow unpleasant, could he use the cologne that she gave him, and heard her husband’s answer that this old stuff had already been thrown into the trash, Zhanna experienced real pleasure. She understood that her ex-mother-in-law was terribly jealous of her son, and this blind jealousy was so fierce that their marriage was doomed anyway. For some reason, Igor didn’t want to go to his apartment. He was probably afraid that they wouldn’t be able to serve him as well as at home... Well, now he ex-husband in every way. And yet something aches, strangely, I was sure that I would forget it, like a bad dream. After all, it was part of her life, and part of it was very fresh! Dan sat down opposite the window, giving Jeanne a seat opposite the door. He sat quietly, but assessed the situation on the table correctly. They tried to create home comfort for him. Strange. But he was really pleased. Interestingly, he had never seen such wine. Strange bottle shape. Too squat. With a neck that is too thin. And the label is kind of nondescript. Interesting. Zhanna handed Dan a bottle and a corkscrew. Dan examined the bottle and saw that it was bottled in Moldova, in Comrat, strangely, he had not heard anything like that. Probably some local cheap stuff. So the cork came out calmly, without effort, the wine was probably poured quite recently. Dan poured it into glasses. Zhanna put the salad on the plate, Dan reached for the bread. Here, in Russia, he began to get used to rye black bread. Zhanna did not cut any other bread for the table. Well then. It's time. - For our acquaintance! - Dan said this with feeling, but without much emphasis, without putting any special intimate meaning into this phrase. - For our first dinner! - came the answer. Dan touched his lips - the wine was moderately cool, and took several small sips. The wine had an excellent bouquet, light taste and a very pleasant aftertaste. He pursed his lips in surprise. I looked at the label again. There were almost no medals. - Interesting wine. Appreciated it. But I've never heard of this brand before. - This is Moldavian wine. Previously, Moldova was part of the Union. Now it has its own country. But their dry wine is still not inferior to its European counterparts. - I can say that it is even superior to its Californian counterparts. - Well, these are not all Moldovan wines. They sell everything. - I wonder how you clean the wine for yours? - For myself. - Zhanna automatically corrected Dan. - By trial and error. But, seriously, I look at two things: the bottle, it should be simpler, and the label, it should also be simple and not tacky. - A-la... how is it? - Clumsy is when there are a lot of colors and no taste. Something like a Christmas tree... - Gut... - I wonder why not OK, but "gut"? - Habit. - Sorry... - No, no, what are you... you... You can ask questions... I have nothing to hide in my life. - Tell me, is this all true... am I talking about Nikola Tesla? - I thought a lot about what is true in his life and what is not. It's probably wrong if I don't say everything is okay. My childhood is the end of the twenties. There were twelve children in our family. We lived in the poorest quarter of New York. Urban slums are always slums. They are the same everywhere. My father died early. I do not remember him. Besides him, there were two more fathers, and of the twelve of us, only seven were my brothers and sisters, the rest were from two husbands. So the mother grew up with a large family. And she fed us alone. These were the most hungry times then. And I quickly realized that I could only live if I took care of myself. There's a little bit of that. I didn’t understand, but I felt that I wanted to be hungry... Oh, yes, I wanted to eat... And I began to steal. Many people did this. I saw that I could get something... I gave it to my brother Pete, my sister Jackie, the others were not like... I loved them more... Dan swallowed his saliva, felt that nothing was coming out of this: his throat was dry . Then he leaned over, took a sip of wine, cleared his throat a little and continued: “Sorry... I’m a little worried here.” It was a very hungry time. Three brothers died, Pete too. It was already the thirty-first year when Pete died. I was lucky. There were five of us. Me, Jim, Harris, Fat Mac and Cliff Warkenfire. And we were a gang. Cliff was in charge. He was already fifteen and had a revolver. In those days it was! Dan raised his finger up, showing how cool it was, because he couldn’t find some necessary phrase in Russian. - By that time I left the family - Jackie went to the panel, it was normal at that time. There was nothing holding me back. And mom stopped feeding another mouth. You know, by that time I was feeding myself. We robbed very old people. They were too tough for us. Usually Jim or Harris tracked down the object, Fat Mac and I, how can I say... processed it, Clif stood in backup. We tried to work rarely. And only when we knew for sure that we would be lucky. Once a gentleman found a revolver - he shot at Maki, although he was as thick as a haystack, the old man missed, but I didn’t. But we had to run away. We have become even more careful. One day Jim reported that he had found an interesting object: an old man who regularly fed pigeons in the park. Apparently, the old man was an easy gift. He no longer worked. Received a pension. He was dressed well and clean. So we boldly went to work. We have been working normally for two years now. I didn't expect anything. I walked first, Maki was a little behind me... so now it was my turn... I saw a tall, dry gentleman in a coat and top hat. He had a mustache, gray and thick, he himself looked like a heron bird... It seems so? Zhanna nodded her head, she listened with genuine interest, not even realizing that someone was listening to their entire conversation, someone was writing... It didn’t matter to her. She simply listened to a fascinating story, listened in the same way as she listened to their theater teacher when he unexpectedly deviated from the topic of the lesson and began to tell something from his eventful life. - I had a good position and attacked boldly, the iron alloy pipe was in my sleeve, I grabbed the pipe and ran. That is, he fed all the pigeons. I'm trying to run faster. And then HE turned to me and looked... I saw his eyes, looked at them, he looked at me. I stood up like a stone, I didn’t understand what was happening. But I couldn’t hit him, something was happening... but I don’t understand what’s going on. I heard Maki screaming something, I pushed my shoulder and walked forward... And I poked Maki with a pipe, he fell... I was still in the fog... And then I turn around: Clif is running there... And I ran to Clif and shouted: “Stop!” and "No!" and "Help!" And Clif had already taken out his Smith & Wesson. This short snout revolver was such rough work, it is not beautiful, but it is strong. I grabbed the barrel straight and lifted it up, Cliff grabbed my hand with the pipe and then my hand burned... I don’t understand that this was a shot. But Clif let go of my hand, turned, threw the revolver, and ran... I looked at my blood... And I lost consciousness... So? - Yes, exactly “lost consciousness.” - Senkyu. I was woken up in a hotel room. The hand is in a bandage. That old man, you understand, it was Nikola Tesla, looks at me and asks: what is my name? I said my name is Dan Carpenter. And then his whole face changed... he said that he couldn’t eat... And then he quietly asked: how old am I, and when I said that I was twelve, I closed my eyes... I don’t remember what else was there. I fell asleep or something. Morning... excuse me, this man was by my bed this morning. And I was silent. And he was silent. And he didn't call the police. Look... The mark... This is from that bullet... Zhanna looked at Dan's left hand, mangled with scars. And it struck her like lightning. She involuntarily shrugged her shoulders. - Then he left me with him. I couldn't object. Good food. - Sorry, Dan, it's correct to say: good food. Good food is for animals. For people, after all, food... - Senkyu, Zhanna... how do you say, nuances? Yes... Good food. The main thing is clothes... attitude... We moved to the New Yorker Hotel. It's such a big building. Many people lived there permanently. Not just us. And one more thing... My number was opposite Nikola's number. He went to such expense, but he wanted me to be a little different from him. - Sorry, Denis, for interrupting you, tell me... why... why did he accept you... and why didn’t he want you to live in the same room with him? Were you afraid of conversations, accusations? Why? - I didn’t know everything right away. It later. Nikola had an older brother, Dane. He died at the age of twelve, struck by lightning, right? Does lightning strike? Zhanna nodded in response. - If you know, then Carpenter is a carpenter, Tesla is also a carpenter in Serbian. I turned out to be his brother. Dani Tesla, only in the American version. And also that I am a bullet... It seems that Nikola believed that I am an incarnation... incarnation his brother to save him... right? - Incarnation? Incarnation, most likely. Are you saying that Nikola Tesla mistook you for his brother? - It’s not like that... For my body, into which the soul of his brother moved? Is it clear now? Zhanna nodded again in the affirmative... - And yet... he didn’t want anyone to know that he was vulnerable to me... That’s how I understood it. Yes exactly. And now, Zhanna, excuse me... I'm a little tired, I'll go to bed with your permission... Right? Zhanna nodded her head in response. Dan got up and went to the bathroom. Zhanna began to remove the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Thus passed the strangest first day of her life. Chapter Thirty Living in times of change Moscow. Central District. Bolshaya Molchanovka General Konstantin Lvovich Peredelkin now appeared very rarely in his safe house on Bolshaya Molchanovka. It seemed to him that the apartment had been “burned down,” so he wanted to “mothball” it for a while. Moreover, by the time Major Korchemny arrived from vacation, the latter’s housing problem should have been resolved a little. But a persistent call from one important person forced the general to choose this particular apartment for the meeting. It would be more stupid to make an appointment at a permanent safe house, or, moreover, at a new one, not yet inhabited, and not properly checked. His interlocutor arrived exactly on schedule, he was generally neat, and the habit of showing up at a meeting on time was a special highlight. This person could be called HIMSELF's confidant. Boris Nikolaevich held power tightly. Having decided to entrust the country to Gaidar and his team, the old man was true to his decision. Only extremely difficult circumstances could force him to change his responsible decision. The country needed a serious shake-up, otherwise only one thing could come out of Gorbachev's parody of liberalism - stagnation and collapse. There was an impression that Yeltsin did not know what to do, but the impression was deceptive. Boris Yeltsin held power tightly. But HOW to govern a country intoxicated by the air of democracy in a difficult situation? There was no answer to this question. He just had to be found. Konstantin Lvovich extended his hand to the newcomer, who responded with a quick, strong handshake, and immediately took the most comfortable place, in his opinion - in a chair, in the corner, at the back of the room. This apartment had enough nooks and crannies in which one could sit comfortably. Konstantin Lvovich gestured to the guest to treat himself to cigars: he opened a new pack right in front of his eyes. He refused with a broad gesture. He waited until Peredelkin lit a cigarette, and only then spoke: “We are interested in how the case with the American old man is going?” Are there any progress? - Without a doubt. The object is complex, but we achieved some success, managed to establish contact, and won him over. Unfortunately, we are not sure that he will cooperate. One hundred percent no. But I estimate our chances are quite high. - Do you know that THEY are developing new weapons systems based on the developments of that same Nikola? Peredelkin nodded his head in agreement. - If we get the drawings, any information, we can either bypass them or find vulnerabilities. This will save the country years of labor and... and a lot of resources... - I understand that. - Great. Work. Please report the slightest progress in this matter to me personally, and to no one else. Peredelkin nodded his head and looked expectantly at his guest. He understood perfectly well that the real purpose of the conversation was far from being about the Dan Carpenter case. To receive this report it was not necessary to meet with the General of the Office at his safe house. There was something so important that his guest thought it possible to insist on a meeting. And he was not mistaken. The guest looked around cautiously. Konstantin Lvovich showed with a gesture that everything was in order and checked. He sighed and continued: “I have two more things to do with you.” - I'm hearing you. - the general leaned over, demonstrating maximum attentiveness. - One is simpler and more pleasant. It's just your thing. What is the state of the agents in Yugoslavia? - Deplorable. The Balkan direction was launched, for the most part, due to lack of funds. - Reanimate. We will add funds from our reserve fund. Don't think that you will gain fat, but try to make the most of it. There is a high probability that after the collapse of the USSR they will want to play the Balkan card in the same scenario. There are also plenty of tensions there. We must keep abreast of events. This conflict between Yugoslavia, Croatia and Slovenia is just the beginning of a serious mess. And we need to be aware of all aspects of the Balkan knot. It may cost us too much. We are not able to openly confront the United States and its allies. We are not able to even covertly resist them. But we have no right to be without information. You understand that we cannot now rely on existing agents for completely objective reasons. Soon many former friends may turn out to be real enemies. It is unacceptable. And making any decisions without reliable information is a luxury that we cannot afford. - Understood. I'll send one there faithful person . Has proven itself well. I think he can handle it. - Fabulous. But there is one more thing. It's ticklish. And you have the right to refuse it. - You know that I won’t refuse. - General Peredelkin leaned back in his chair and released a thick cloud of fragrant smoke. “I know, that’s why I’m here.” The point is that there is a serious force within the country that is trying to resist the president and his course towards market reforms. Yes, reforms are not popular, but they are necessary! And this is not for us to discuss. We believe that there is a high level of conspiracy involving some individuals who hold important positions in the state. On this piece of paper (the guest handed the general a thin folder) is a list of names. Highest probability. It’s not for me to explain to you that an internal conflict, and even a serious one, will seriously affect the prestige of the state. And we understand perfectly well that this is not the business of your Office. But I can only seriously count on your people, General. - Understand. “We need to know who might be behind these people from the outside.” How will their actions be assessed if they go into open confrontation with the authorities, or a coup? What will be the assessment of decisive actions to suppress them? To properly build a relationship strategy, we need as much information as possible. The main thing is to understand who is behind these processes; there is a suspicion that the same force that is behind the collapse of the USSR has profited enough from this collapse. If this is their scenario for the final destruction of Russia, we must know it for sure. Know in order to adequately counteract. - Accepted. I'll think about who can entrust this task. - Think about it. Try to involve as few people as possible. As they say: the narrower the circle, the easier it is to find the traitor. Peredelkin nodded his head in agreement. He immediately began to wonder who could be entrusted with this complex and delicate task. - That's all I have for now. - And I would like to ask for your advice, taking advantage of the fact that we have met. - Yes, I will help as much as I can. Advice - even more so. - Analyzing the actions of Brzezinski’s group and those who stand behind him, I came to the conclusion that the collapse of the USSR would not be enough for them. They will try to strike again soon. - Namely? - Chechnya. This is always a difficult region. But not a union republic. Its withdrawal from the federation will cause a Domino effect. And then all that remains of Russia will be horns and legs. In principle, the outbreak could be not only Chechnya, but also North Ossetia and Ingushetia. There is good nutritional material there - tribal, tribal, national strife, due to local laws of revenge. The strategic result is that we will become zero. They (the USA) will rule the whole world themselves. - Well, they already rule the whole world. We used to be the second pole. Not now. They don’t take us into account, and they do what they want! So your forecast is interesting. What about the facts? - They will be there soon. - I'm waiting for them. I think we will need to take a closer look at this region... but who? You see, there is an opinion that a reliable strong man, for example, from the military, should be imprisoned in Chechnya. They always respected a man with a gun. Let them continue to be respected. If this is all... (Peredelkin nodded his head in agreement) then I will have to bow out. Business, you know, business... Left alone, the general nervously lit another cigar. He suddenly realized that his work... ALL his work could end up down the drain. Somehow the sleeping cat turned around too slowly to face the most important problems. And he was not able to stir up this cat. Chapter thirty-one Evening of a hard day, Moscow region. Domodedovo district. Kolychevo Zhanna could safely attribute this day to the most difficult days in her life. It all started in the morning when she arrived for classes at the institute. She didn't expect it, but her classes that day were difficult, then her period started, she had to look for pads because they were gone for a week ahead of schedule , as they explained to her, because of the operation this became possible, well, here it is. On such days she became angry, uncontrollable and desperately wanted sex. And then Igor appeared. Her ex-ex-husband. Due to the circumstances, Zhanna had a crazy idea to drag Igork somewhere into a secluded room (luckily, they were there) and have a quick fuck there. Two things got in the way - the short duration of the break, and the special sickening dog-like devotion with which Igor looked at her. What an abomination it is to fuck with such a slug. - Zhanna! Why are you doing this? Come back, I will forgive everything. A? He fiddled with his hands on the bouquet of flowers that he wanted to give to Zhanna and still couldn’t make up his mind, a strange mixture of a man’s wounded pride and the desire to get what he wanted through even humiliation. - What to forgive? Igoresha...Are you in yourself or not? What should I forgive YOU? That you're not a man? That you are a slug, a rag, a weakling? Well. So it's just a fact. Well, I was wrong about you. You never became a man. So who is there to forgive? - Zhanna, why are you doing this? Let's live together again... Let's rent an apartment. I will do everything I can for your career. I know that you are talented. I’m the only one who believes in you... - Well, I’ve come to my senses. He believes. I believe in myself, Igoresha, I do! And you... you are a wimp and a slug. You should play the role of gays. No, not those with blue blood, but those whose assholes are smeared with Vaseline... That's it, dear, free. I have another one. And he's better than you in every way. Have you already thought about where to invest your voucher? A? Or will mommy tell you again? But now this problem does not interest me. - Zhanna... - It’s said. No. And don't come again. Don't be an eyesore... - So it's true? Why are you with this... Alexander...? What have I done to you? -You just couldn't do anything good. All. Free. Like a fly in flight. Zhanna could no longer restrain herself. She laughed right in Igor's face. He, still turning out a bouquet of flowers (he had splurged on white roses!) turned straight, as if a stake had been inserted into his back, and walked away, and Zhanna understood that this was how part of her life was passing away. And it hurt. And she didn’t regret anything. But it still hurt. And Zhanna brushed away an uninvited tear and rushed off to her next lesson. The only thing that could save her today from adventures on her poor head... However, it was not Zhanka’s head that was looking for adventure, but a completely different part of her body. When classes ended, and twenty-five to thirty minutes remained before Alexander’s arrival, Zhanna felt that she simply could not stand it. Well, she doesn't have any strength. And then she saw Vitalik from the second year of the directing department. Tall, handsome, he was a terror for local girls. Usually he was surrounded by two or three girlfriends. And today, for some reason, he was alone. Ha! I must say that Vitalka already winked at Zhanna, even made advances. True, not very successful. Zhanna simply could not have anything with him... But now she simply needed it. And Vitalik turned up at the right time. - Vitalik! Hello! What about alone, without an escort? Where are your unsinkable destroyers? - I ran away from class a little earlier today. I want to get home early, it’s my mom’s birthday. He said it so simply and sincerely that Zhanka even chuckled inside herself. The guy is almost thirty years old, and he’s rushing to his mom’s birthday party like a middle school student. - Listen, obedient son, does mommy put condoms in your bag? - Zhanka... what are you doing? I’m already laying down myself... - Why don’t we use one of your condoms? Right now? A? - You know... this is an idea... Vitalik said somewhat taken aback by such pressure. He did not expect that the one who knocked him down so rudely, in front of everyone, would change her anger to mercy. Vitalik immediately gave up on his mother’s birthday, grabbed Zhanna by the hand, and dragged her somewhere where he knew for sure. In this room, where costumes, folders with archival documents and old furniture were mixed in a strange confusion, a room that not only Vitalik, but also other students often used for their games, Zhanna felt at her best again. She wanted quick, rapid intercourse, and Vitalik was in the mood for a long game of kissing. I had to take everything into my own hands. And a kiss so that it wouldn’t drag on too long, and quickly pull off her panties so as not to get in the way, and not let Vitalik play with his nipples for too long, there’s nothing there, she herself unbuttoned his trousers, she herself appreciated why this flesh was in such demand and not only for second year, she realized that judging by the size, she would be pleased, she even very, very quickly felt how, thanks to her efforts, the flesh was getting stronger and harder, now all that was left was to lean on the bedside table and spread her legs, and direct it to where it so required her yearning female nature. Vitalik also turned out to be a skilled fucker. He worked so energetically that Zhanka felt that she was beginning to be crushed by an orgasm much faster than usual. It wasn't just a fuck, it was a super fuck! And Zhanna decided to add Vitalik to the nearest reserve “just in case” of her hectic life. .. Then Vitalik began to press harder, to press so hard that Zhanna felt that her body was beginning to tear out. She grabbed the man's back with her claws, leaving her trademark there - eight claws... And her body began to convulse in orgasm... And when she had already softened, just a couple of seconds later, Vitalik growled, twitched, thrashed, pouring into her crazy rubber... Zhanna felt in seventh heaven with a buzz... She had not yet managed to break into reality when she heard Vitalik’s voice, which made her twitch, but with laughter: - Hey, Zhanka, did I take your virginity? ? And only when Zhanka laughed in the face of the man who was examining the condom trophy, he realized that he had been stupid, blushed and said: “What a contraption you are!” Zhanna didn't mind. She stopped laughing, threw the panties and the pad into her purse, somehow straightened her clothes and quickly headed to the toilet to somehow tidy herself up. When Zhanna got into Alexander’s car, he muttered with displeasure. Something about the fact that she is always late, that she was again delayed by almost a quarter of an hour, that there are traffic jams in the city, especially on Fridays. - Sasha, why are you annoying me? - Zhanna sat in the back seat and curled up. The first day of menstruation had one more thing besides the desire to fuck by-effect: in the evening my stomach began to twist terribly. And from the wild pain at night I already wanted to howl. Well... you got pleasure, now you'll get payback... This was Zhanna's philosophical credo in these difficult days. Alexander, who had never seen Zhanna in such a state, only raised his eyebrows in surprise, silently squeezed the clutch and quickly pulled out of the parking lot. He was silent right up to the house in Kolychev. Zhanna got ready to go out. - Did you write the report? - he asked the woman... she silently nodded her head, rummaged in her purse, and threw away the sheet of paper written on it. Alexander handed her a bag of groceries that he had purchased in advance, Zhanna shook her head in response, saying, why are you standing there, get out of here! And slowly trudged home... - Denis! She had been calling Dan Denis for several days and switched to “you” with him, although there was no romantic brotherhood. Zhanna dragged the groceries into the kitchen. And, grunting a little, she threw her bag on the table. Dan immediately appeared in the kitchen doorway. I must say that over these few days he got used to this eccentric, unbalanced, harsh, but very vulnerable woman. There was something about her that was difficult to explain, and perhaps it was not worth looking for an explanation. After all, for some reason she attracted him with her brazen open image in Playboy? Was it all about the chest? And Dan mentally grinned... - Denis, excuse me... I’ll lie down a little now, I’m not feeling well... and then I’ll cook dinner. OK? - Okay, don’t worry about eating, I’m not hungry. Oh, again... I'll try a little better to talk to you today. Gut? “Zer gut...” Zhanna answered in the same tone as Dan and went to the bathroom to clean herself up after a long journey. There she drank three no-shpas at once, because she knew that the pain would only get worse. The medicine was not of much use, but at least something had to be taken. So she accepted. Zhanna barely made it to bed, fell without undressing, and instantly fell asleep. Chapter Thirty-Two The Return of the Prodigal Son. Business trip Moscow. Lubyanka. Office. Peredelkino. Major Korchemny went his way workplace. He walked, pleased with himself and the fact that he was back at work, and not on a business trip, which couldn’t even be called a business trip. They called it a vacation. Well, a vacation is a vacation, the main thing is that you managed it. It cannot be said that bright prospects opened up for the major; on the contrary, the news that he brought to his boss was quite alarming. But the very fact that he was back in the Office, back in business, gave him a feeling of joyful relief. He called his boss back from the station, found out that they were waiting for him immediately at the Office, and realized that he didn’t have time to go home to change clothes and get himself in order. And from the fact that the pace of work remained as frantic as it had been before, Pyotr Evgenievich experienced the pleasure of a real workaholic. He loved his work, and did not hide it from anyone. There was still half a flight of stairs left to go through, now one turn, another, here it is, the long-awaited entrance to Peredelkino! - Oh, come in, Pyotr Evgenievich, dear! - the general smiled widely when he saw his subordinate entering the office. - How was your vacation? Have you rested? Basked in the sun, breathed in the fresh mountain air? - Yes sir! - I order the barracks to be abandoned. Speak. - Here is the report, Konstantin Lvovich! - I see. And if in a few words, how would you describe the situation? - Anxious. Not just alarming, but extremely alarming. It seems to them that the center is weak. And this is a good chance to take revenge. For all. Especially for Stalin's affairs. The mood in society towards the center is equally negative. There are mixed families, they are loyal, but they are a minority. The main role is played Islamic preachers. And bandits. I think whoever is elected in Chechnya will go to secession. There are many emissaries there. Especially from Arab countries. Money. Interest in oil. They fuel Islamic extremism. There are a lot of weapons in Chechnya. A lot of evil people . There are many unemployed. And there is a lot of talk about an Islamic republic with religious leaders at its head. - Are they preparing a second Iran for us? - Most likely so. - Who is behind this? - Arab emissaries. Most of them are old acquaintances from Afghanistan. - Americans? - They don’t bother themselves, but these emissaries, there are names there, they work for them. So you guessed the root of the problem correctly. - America is a free country. There, anyone can help whoever they want. Bypassing the government, for example, if the government does not benefit from recognizing its assistance. - Right. I think the Americans will try to rake in the heat here with someone else’s hands. They will not want to openly get into a confrontation with us yet. There's no point in teasing a bear with an atomic baton. For what? You can simply infect him with the disease and wait for him to die on his own. - You're right, Major. Right. Data? - I think there are more than enough of them. If you allow me, I won’t repeat this in the report. - Let's say. And what about Dudayev himself? - Complex figure. And how it will behave is also difficult to say. There are moderate people around him, mostly military ones. But everything is very complicated there. I think whoever comes to power will play for independence. To achieve this, the situation there developed in the most favorable way for the separatists. - Last names? - There are enough of those who are close to the general, but there are far more of those who are really ready to tear apart independence with their teeth. - Got it, I’ll look into it... Yes. The most difficult thing is to realize that we, the center, are to blame for what is happening! Don't tell me, I know it myself. Well, I’ll study your report immediately. But you won’t have to rest, Pyotr Evgenievich. New task. New business trip. No, I'll give you some rest. But only a little. And here's another thing. These are the keys to the apartment. No, not yours yet, although it’s quite possible. I'm trying to break through to you now. No need for gratitude. I have already moved my things there. The area is good. And it’s not far from the highway, and, just in case, it’s close to the metro. - Thank you, Konstantin Lvovich! - Thank you, son, tell me when you get the apartment for your full use. For now, this is your rented haven. Anything is better than the officers' dormitory. - Konstantin Lvovich! - I’m telling you, Pyotr Evgenievich, leave your gratitude for later. In the meantime, I want to bring you up to date. I'll leave tomorrow. Therefore, you will receive the materials from Nikolai Petrovich. In any case, you’ll start working on it now, and when you get back, you’ll hit the road. - It's clear. - I won’t be away for long. Get to work right away. - Can I do it right now? - It’s okay, it’ll take one day. Tomorrow morning. So here it is. Your main task is to restore our network in Yugoslavia. Only now there is a serious mess going on there. And instead of one network, we will have to create several at once. Croats, Slovenes, Albanians, Macedonians, Serbs and Montenegrins are about to become entangled in a poisonous tangle. So we need not one network, but at least six. And six residents. In short, you yourself understand what needs to be done. Funding for this has been received. You understand that you will have to spend money. There is nothing else to do. Times have changed. - I understand, Konstantin Lvovich! - I have no doubt that you understand. That's why you do this work. You, not someone else. And one more thing... The General frowned. - You will go through Austria. There you will meet one person. Hand over the package and money. It's official. You convey the most important thing to him in words. That's why you'll go only after meeting me. It's clear? - Yes sir! - Well, good. Now go and rest, for twelve hours of rest, I think you deserve it. - That's right... - Leave it aside... free. Free. General Peredelkin looked after the major as he left the office. It seemed that he did not see him, Konstantin Lvovich was so deeply lost in his thoughts, heavy as pieces of lead. Chapter Thirty-Three The evening before the weekend. Moscow region. Domodedovo district. Kolychevo Dan went into the room where Zhanna was sleeping. She didn’t have time to undress, she fell asleep right on the bed, with her trousers slightly unbuttoned, her blouse riding up a little, exposing her round, pleasant belly. Zhanna slept lightly and restlessly. She felt the man's gaze and opened her eyes. - Sorry for waking you up. We have to go eat. Are you feeling bad? - My stomach hurts. It passes. - And then it repeats periodically, is that right? - Yes, it repeats itself. About once a month. - It's clear. Eat. Don't get up a minute. Did you drink something? Medicine, not vodka. - I drank as soon as I arrived, but it was of no use... - Good. Lie down. Dan extended his hand and began to move it literally a centimeter from the skin of her stomach. This didn't last long. A couple of minutes. At first, Zhanna felt a slight tingling sensation on the skin of her abdomen, and after a few more minutes, Zhanna realized that the pain had become less, and when the man made the last movement with his hands, there was no trace of pain left. - What was it? Zhanna reached out and took the elderly man's hand in her palm. Surprisingly, the skin was warm, not wrinkled or dry at all. It was the skin of a forty-year-old man, not a seventy-year-old man. And here Zhanna for the first time experienced serious doubts: something, but the skin never lies! And if the skin is forty, how can the age be seventy? - It became easier. So? Let's go have dinner... - I haven't prepared anything yet. - I still have hands. Let's go. - Well, I feel better... Thank you, Denis, thank you very much... - No problem... Let's go... They went to the kitchen. Dan really tried. He cooked the fish, and did not fry it, but baked it with vegetables and fruits. It turned out spicy and tasty. In addition to the fish, I prepared a simple salad made from lettuce, celery, and nuts. Dan also used a salad dressing from olive oil with lemon juice and honey. A small mound of baked potatoes and two cups of hot chocolate completed the feast. - Now you really need hot chocolate. - Can I just have chocolate? It’s all so delicious, but somehow I don’t want it. - You can, only you feel a brutal appetite. This is fine. - Denis... how do you do this, how do you know? Zhanna thought for a moment, then resolutely helped herself to the salad and fish. Dan chose two smaller potatoes and the same salad. He sprinkled the potatoes with salt, took a good bite, chewed, enjoying the taste of the potatoes, and only after that said: “Here in Russia, it’s very delicious potatoes. Not very big. But delicious. It even smells nice somehow. Yes... what did you ask? How do I know this? I lived near Nikola Tesla for almost ten years. Ten! And Nikola had amazing abilities. He could heal himself. And at the same time he did not resort to the help of doctors. Moreover, he denied this help; he believed that doctors drove more people into graves with medicine than they could cure. In 1937, Nikola Tesla was hit by a taxi. He has many fractures. Usually people don't survive after this. Nikola ordered to be taken to his room, and there he refused medical help. And he refused rudely, decisively, flatly. For almost a year he treated himself. He treated me like this, with strokes, he knew what points were, magic points. He pressed them. And he held his hands so that it wouldn’t hurt so much. And I hold his hands. Where he could not press himself, I pressed the dots. A year later he could already walk, although not as quickly as he could always before. This is how I adopted his healing experience... - Healing. Or healing. - Senkyu. - Excuse me, Denis, but who hit Nikola? Did you find a taxi driver? - Nobody was looking for him. - How so? “It wasn’t entirely by accident that he got hit by a taxi.” Sorry, that's not it... Not at all by chance. This whole story is very complicated. I don’t like to remember this... then Nikola saved my life: the taxi rushed so fast that I also came under attack. He managed to push me away, but he didn’t have time to jump away himself. Don't look so surprising. At sixty, he was a very energetic man. He could walk and just like that, while walking, do a somersault... Sorry, somersault over his head. He wasn't old. He was young! He could run, walk, and lift heavy weights. He was an amazingly healthy and strong man. - Marvelous. - Oooh... he was definitely an amazing person. When I got to Nikola, he was already taking part in the physicists’ conspiracy. It was such a conspiracy that several leading scientists in the world believed that the new weapons that were being developed in different countries , may become such a force that the one who has it can himself win the war. They believed that if everyone had such powerful weapons, then all the war would stop. No one will attack each other, because that comrade also has such a club. Nikola believed that the country could give not only a sword, but also a shield when the enemy’s weapons were zero. But he wanted all countries to have such a weapon or such a shield, which they were about to go to war. He knew for sure that the war would begin in the fall of 1939 and end with the defeat of Germany in the spring of 1945. And he knew for sure that a lot of people would die. Sorry, man... people. - And he believed that Germany, the USSR, and France, and not just the USA, should have his weapons? - He's not the only one who thinks so. But he was the closest to doing it. His Wardenclyffe had a strong project. And the facility was visited not only by Germans, but also by Russians. In '37 he had to sell his projects to both the Germans and the Russians. He says that simply the transfer was to cause mistrust. And when he started bargaining to get a higher price, they quickly believed him. The Russians gave less. The German even got something, but not everything. Nikola was very careful. They couldn't grab him by the hand. But FBI Director Edgar Hoover believed that such a thing was possible. And he gave the order to eliminate Nikol. He always went to feed the pigeons in the park. I walk next to him. He always feeds the pigeons. And that's letting him down. He couldn't walk and was under control. He could not escape Hoover's agents; throughout his last years he was under constant control. They left him alive. For some time. - Why? It’s not logical to first decide to kill, and then decide to leave life. - How can there not be logic? There is logic, yes. They wanted to kill him so that his patent would not go to the Germans and Russians. As soon as he was not under arrest, and at home, he was not dangerous. They guard him. And leave him alive. Then the Manhattan Project began. Tesla is working on an invisibility generator. But not even this one. Sorry. I got it a little mixed up. The main thing was then. Tesla's number was dug up. The FBI is looking for his documents. Blueprints. Weapon. And find nothing. So they let him live. They did the main thing - to ensure that his patent did not go to the Germans or Russians. - And his documents? Where did Nikola hide them? Do you know this? - He had the most reliable hiding place. - Sorry, Denis, there is no such word for hiding. - Ooooh... which one is it? - Secret place. A better word would be "cache." - He had the strongest hiding place - his head. You know, Zhanna, he never did any mathematics, he only made a drawing, and attached something like a note to it. And nothing else. Therefore, he kept the most secret development here. And Dan tapped himself on the forehead.
Shortly before his death, Tesla announced that he had invented something similar to the then widely discussed “death rays.” Here is a quote:
"it becomes easily possible to detonate gunpowder and ammunition depots by means of high frequency currents induced in every particle of metal located at a distance of five to six miles or more"
“My invention requires large areas, but once used, it has the ability to destroy everything, people or equipment, located within a radius of 200 miles. This weapon, so to speak, provides a wall of energy and represents an insurmountable obstacle against any inflicted aggression,”
“My equipment can project particles, respectively, to large or microscopic sizes, making it possible to move millions of times more energy over small areas over long distances than any type of ray allows. Energy in many thousands Horse power can thus be transmitted by a stream finer than a hair, which nothing can resist."
"Regarding the projection of wave energy and onto any single area globe... this can be done by my devices",
“the place where the impact is required can be calculated very closely if we take the correct earthly dimensions”,
"When I spoke regarding future warfare, I meant that it should be directly related to the use of electrical waves without the use of air engines or other instruments of destruction,"
"This is not a dream. Even now wireless power plants could be built by which any area of the globe could be rendered uninhabitable without exposing the population of other parts to serious danger or inconvenience."
The New York Times wrote about this invention of Tesla in 1915. The article says:
Nikola Tesla, the inventor, applied for a patent for the main components of the machine, the capabilities of which amaze the imagination of the average person and evoke associations with the striking lightning of Thor, which punished those who provoked the wrath of the gods... Suffice it to say that the invention will be able to move in space at a speed of 300 miles per second, representing an unmanned ship without a propeller or wings, moved by electricity to any point on the globe with its destructive mission, which will be assigned to it.
“The time is not yet,” Dr. Tesla said yesterday, “to discuss the details of this invention. It works on principles that promise much to the world, but can also be used for warfare. But I repeat: now is not the time to talk about such things. Practically "This is completely feasible. I'm talking about moving energy without wires and causing destruction at a distance. I have already built a wireless transmitter that makes this possible and described it in my technical articles. This includes my recently received patent number 1119732. With the help With such a transmitter we can send electrical energy in any quantity over any distance and apply it in a huge variety of fields - both for the purposes of war and for peace. By the general acceptance of such a system, ideal conditions will be achieved for the maintenance of order and law, since then The energy necessary for the defense of justice and freedom will serve the public, but can be used at any time for attack or defense. Energy can be transferred not only for the purpose of destruction, but also for the protection of borders, by supplying or turning off this energy and, replacing the functions that troops perform today."
In 1940, the New York Times again writes: Nikola Tesla, one of the greatest inventors, who celebrated his 84th birthday on July 10, told the journalist that he was ready to reveal to the American government the secret of “teleforce”, which could, in his words, melt airplane engines within a radius of 250 miles, so that an invisible Chinese Wall of protection will surround the country on all sides... This “body power,” he said, is built on an entirely new physical principle, “which no one has ever dreamed of,” different from the principles embodied in his inventions in the field of electric power transmission over long distances.
This new type energy and, according to Mr. Tesla, will operate through a beam with a diameter of one hundred millionth of a square centimeter and can be generated by special stations, the cost of construction of which will not exceed 2 million dollars, and the construction time will not exceed three months. The beam, he claims, uses four new inventions, two of which he has already tried. One is a method and apparatus used to produce rays and "other manifestations of energy" in open space without the need for a high vacuum; the second is the method and process of obtaining "enormous electrical force", the third is the method of increasing this force, and the fourth is a new method of producing "giant electric force repulsion." This will be a kind of cannon. The voltage ensuring the advancement of the beam to its target, according to the inventor, will be brought to 50 million volts. With such an enormous voltage, he said, microscopic electrical particles of matter will be thrown out, as if from a catapult, for fulfilling its mission of protective destruction.
He added that he had been working on this invention for many years and had recently made a number of improvements to it. But he also took this secret with him to the grave.
The second part of the article, which examines the main aspects of containing breakthrough and fuel-free technologies and secret control over the technological development of human civilization. Specific examples of closed technologies and organizations that are responsible for this are given.
Nikola Tesla was not the first inventor to enter the realm of infinite energy and the structure of the Universe. But Tesla owns these words: “ In order to know the secrets of the Universethink in terms of energy, frequencies and vibrations " To a large extent, this physicist developed the technologies of his predecessor and contemporary John Keeley, which excited the imagination of his contemporaries in the second half of the 19th century. It should be noted that, being under the tutelage of the sinister J.P. Morgan, along with the ideas of giving free energy to humanity Tesla also hatched projects for new weapons systems. These weapons were so terrible and destructive that Tesla naively hoped that the prospect of “burning helpless women, children and civilians” would act as a “deterrent” to their use in practice even for “the most war-crazed politicians.”
Hydrocarbon energy, along with an irresponsible, consumer attitude towards environment plunged the Earth into a biochemical catastrophe. Is there a way out of this impasse? The epigraph with Tesla's words (see the beginning of this part) suggests that yes. Returning to the topic of energy alternatives and the developments of Nikola Tesla (on the use of energy from the cosmic ether), three points should be noted.
1. Discoveries for which civilization has “ripened” are often made serially (almost simultaneously and in different countries). The fact that the existence of the ether was proven at the beginning of the twentieth century in our days can only be unknown to a person fixated on “cave” energy and zombified by theoretical lies, the disseminator of which was Albert Einstein.
2. A country that turns out to be a leader in the field of theoretical understanding and scientific and practical application of the theory of the ether will undoubtedly become a world leader in most new branches of knowledge and production and (in global conditions) will make an incredible technological breakthrough.
3. However, to possess the energy of ether, a person will need to have high morality and responsibility . By itself, new energy will not give rise to either humanity or morality in a consumer brought up in the spirit of the biblical concept and having an appropriate worldview. He will perceive it as some kind of magic wand in the spirit of a remote control. But the world, controlled by the Global Predictor, possessing ethereal weapons, will certainly face global threat, the scale of which is difficult to imagine.
As you know, soon after the scandal with the descendant of the pirate Morgan, the media created a mythical image of N. Tesla that meets the criterion of an “urban madman.” But in the second decade of the 20th century and later, Tesla was engaged not only in global energy issues, but in the development of weapons of the future. Here are excerpts and conclusions from Pavel Gorkovsky’s detailed book “The Forbidden Tesla”:
Of course, the State Department was interested in drawings and models of weapon systems, which the physicist openly wrote about during his lifetime. After Tesla's death in January 1943, his legacy, which included military significance, took over: the Office of Strategic Services (the future of the CIA), the FBI and the Office of Foreign Property Affairs. In 1893, Tesla realized his dream and became an American citizen, so that half a century later the seizure of his property was carried out under wartime conditions, in a simplified manner and without a court order.
Gorkovsky's book quotes the words of the representative of the Office of Foreign Property Affairs, Irving Jurow. “...I was informed that Nikola Tesla, who, according to some reports, invented the “death ray” - an important military device capable of destroying flying enemy aircraft by “projecting” the beam and creating “ energy field» causing planes to crash. Moreover, it was believed that German agents were “hunting” for this invention and hatching plans for its production.”
The group of government officials to seize the heritage of the inventor and scientist included a representative of the Office of Foreign Property Affairs, representatives of the Department of Naval Intelligence, military intelligence and two FBI agents. All of the deceased's personal belongings were seized from the Manhattan warehouse and from the hotels in which he lived: the New Yorker, the St. Regis, the Waldorf-Astoria and the Governor Clinton. According to the list provided, the following items were confiscated: 12 locked metal boxes, a steel casket, 35 metal boxes, 5 barrels and 8 chests, a hotel bedside safe deposit box and numerous boxes of documentation found in a Manhattan warehouse in rooms 5J and 5L.
About significance and future fate nothing is known about the seized archive. Tesla's relatives waged a long-term judicial and diplomatic battle with the American government, and, in the end, some part of the Serbian physicist's legacy returned to his homeland, becoming part of the museum exhibition. Most likely, no one will ever know which calculations, drawings and prototypes disappeared in the “reserves” of the special services and secret laboratories. In any case, until there are answers to questions about the physical principles and ideological source of the systems that today cause man-made hurricanes, tornadoes, droughts, floods, earthquakes, atmospheric disasters and other “natural anomalies.”
One of the “victims” who escaped his fate was William Line(William Line) ( from elevation 7:55). He was involved in top-secret developments for the American Air Force, and after his dismissal he wrote the book “Aliens from the Pentagon” (1999), containing a rich bibliography and diagrams of some of N. Tesla’s devices. Like Bill Cooper and Michael Edward, Lyne claims that many UFOs are the product of military developments controlled by supra-governmental structures and based on secret technologies hidden from the public. Since then, he says, he has been hiding from assassins trying to kill him with a death ray.
Jess's assistants collected information about scientists who died while trying to tell the world about the monstrous developments based on the legacy of N. Tesla, starting from the day of his death. About 20 files of people who died from rare diseases, heart attacks and accidents were shown. One way the human body can be affected, according to Lyne, is by “spontaneous” combustion or “explosion from within” ( from elevation 12:42). It was precisely this terrible death that N. Tesla’s great-niece died. NEPE expert and former NASA astronaut Brian O'Leary, after the death of two of his colleagues, he fled to Ecuador, where he died from a transient form of cancer. The author of publications on the topic of ONPE, T. Bearden, in one of his publications confirmed the fact of an attempt on his life using the Venus ECM device.
Watching video footage of experiments John Hutchison by directed energy transfer (mark. 20:26-22:05), Jese Ventura points out that the incredibly twisting and collapsing iron bar looks exactly like the steel beams on the site of the destroyed World War II shopping center. During the interview, Hutchison demonstrates his water purification plant Gulf of Mexico(from elevation 28:50); confirms (with cancel. 24:16) that approximately 12 directed energy contractors died untimely deaths; that the FBI stole his own work in 1991, but, nevertheless, in 2006, D. Rumsfeld and others “wanted [him] to work for them again, which [he] politely refused” (with disclaimer). 25:46); at the same time declares himself and his wife “crazy.” He also clarifies that ONPE installations are capable of destroying an entire continent (from an altitude of 31:16) and mentions the likely use of CEPE in Iraq.
Some clarification is required here. At one time, when asked about equipping the US Army with ONPE systems tried to give an answer(more precisely, hush up this topic) two officials from the Pentagon - US Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld and General of the Chiefs of Staff Committee Richard Myers. From their answers (according to link from elevation 1:15) it follows that such work is actually being carried out. Rumsfeld also clarified that the situation sometimes requires the use of weapons that are at the development stage - that is, they are sometimes tested in real combat conditions.
The existence of such installations is confirmed by retired colonel US Army Michael Edward. A former director development programs for similar systems at Los Alamos National Laboratory, Colonel John Alexander adds(from mark 3:08) that research on this topic is already underway many decades and we are talking about several ONPE systems. Washington Post journalist and former Pentagon analyst William Arkin(from mark 5:33) explained that a replacement is currently taking place kinetic weapon systems for acoustic and energy.
The development budget for ONPE is about half a billion dollars (for microwave weapons this is approximately 200 million dollars, for non-lethal systems (for example, microwaves with a frequency of 93 GHz) - another 50 million dollars, and for secret projects - up to 200 million dollars) . Arkin noticed, What the “victim” often does not even understand that he is being killed, since the impact of the weapon is not felt until some point.
What “real combat conditions” was Rumsfeld talking about? Application secret weapon Americans in Iraq (in 2003) became the topic of research by a group of documentary filmmakers using Majida Algazali, leading soloist of the Baghdad Orchestra ( from elevation 1:35). Algazali showed combat zones in the area of the airport, where weapons were used that burned certain parts of the body, leaving others unharmed ( charred eyeless skulls on intact bodies and a reduction in body size by 2-2.5 times). Subsequently, in such “test zones” the military for some reason cut off a meter-long layer of soil and replaced it with imported soil. This is also evidenced by Ch. surgeon at Hilla Hospital ( near historical Babylon and about 100 km from Baghdad), Dr. Saad Al Faluji(ibid., with mark 4:29).
A volunteer from Belgium also takes part in the story, Geert van Moorter. They list the external “features” observed in the 26 dead and wounded on the bus leaving Hilla for the neighboring town. At the entrance to the checkpoint, the Americans ordered the bus driver to turn around and go back, and on the way back " the bus and passengers were subject to some impact"(see photo of the bus above).
The surviving bus passengers could not name no manifestations of the impact itself(noise, explosions or bullets/fragments). Some people were missing their heads, others were missing limbs, and still others had their insides turned outward. Ten hospital surgeons could not understand what could have caused such a strange effect. No damaging elements were found in the bodies. Almost all the passengers died, and the Americans took their bodies into refrigerators. Nobody saw them again.
Radio frequency weapons are also discussed documentary television company CNN - " Radio frequency weapons» ( Radio Frequency Weapons) (1985). It notes that in this area of research Soviet Union ahead of the USA by 3-5 years. The video series includes footage of a defector from the Soviet military-industrial complex named Larisa Vilenskaya. Some methods are mentioned direct projection of images and thoughts into the minds of other people. Among the demonstrated devices there is also a N. Tesla coil ( from elevation 14:10). Areas of application – impact on large groups population, combating terrorism and conducting special operations. I don’t think that all of the above guesses and statements relate to disinformation with the goal of “confusing and confusing the enemy,” although I admit that some points are somewhat exaggerated.
I'll add one more thought. Conducting large-scale special operations using ONPE with a large number victims on the territory of a foreign state is a risky undertaking, because detecting the source of the attack using air defense and space reconnaissance systems and identifying its identity would immediately become the basis for an international scandal and a retaliatory strike. This is probably why the “true masters of America” (supranational structures that fall under the concept of the shock periphery of the Global Predictor) decided test this weapon on your territory to have complete control and information cover.
The old “matryoshka” scheme was used. The first level of information is disinformation, the second is “false targets,” and only the third is the real essence of the events that took place. And nine years later, according to the same scheme, an ecocidal blow was struck against the warm-water oasis of the Gulf of Mexico, bursting with life. And the consequences of this experiment and biological mega-terrorist attack are still obvious...
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