“Now you will tell me the coordinates of the houseboat where your friends are terrorists. If you refuse, I will give you the Trichlorechinococcus-18 injection and you will tell everything yourself. This drug shortens life, but under its influence you will tell absolutely everything, whatever I ask. After its use, usually no one lives longer than 150 years.”
In response, Kmykh heard a selective swearing, which was borrowed from the Old Russian language. Kmykh, without hesitation, leaned a medical pistol against the neck of a terrorist and fired. After a minute, the terrorist's pupils dilated and filled with blood, and Kmykh realized that it was already possible to ask questions.
"The coordinates yours friends on houseboat, please, and your identification number."
The terrorist gave the coordinates and his number. The terrorist’s eyeballs were inflated and were ready to burst, but he did not feel pain.
“Fine,” said Kmykh, “now tell us the coordinates of your base.”
The terrorist wanted to say something, but his eyeballs burst, and eye fluid and blood plasma flowed onto the concrete. After a second, the terrorist froze.
"Alice, look at his ID number his age. Out of time, he kicked a bucket."
"He was 162 years old. In this age, in any case, he would not have survived after Trichlorechinococcus-18."
"Well, you heard the coordinates. I'm flying out. Please open the gate."
Kmykh sat in the capsule and scored the coordinates. The garage door opened automatically, the Maserati capsule smoothly left the garage and set off with acceleration to the open sea. Kmykh chose a height of 14 meters above the sea, which was reserved for FSB.
Currant
The houseboat R-118 drifted two hundred miles from London. Hans von Bender stepped out of the cabin and headed for the barbecue area. Before ten meters, he called Abdullah on duty there. Abdullah jumped up from a deck chair and went to the boss.
“Abdullah,” said Hans, “that's all. We must leave. Impolite Reznik is already at the base with all information.”
“And what to do with these both?”
“Accident, they are poisoned by beer. Perhaps a robbery – we will take two bushes of currant. Bring mamba's poison from UAZ. Or the best drag the whole medicine brief-bag. Have you drunk all the beer?”
“A couple of cans still seem to be left.”
“Pour from each jar and drop two drops in each, then put it on the table to the hostages.”
“And they will drink?”
“No, boob! I will inject them with injections. There is a medical pistol in the medicine brief-bag. Put on gloves.”
“Good, Hans, I get it.”
"Well, go and do it! What do you wait?"
Abdulla turned and headed for the UAZ hovering near board. Meanwhile, Hans went to the wheelhouse, where the rest of the bandits played cards.
“Arkady,” – said Hans, “put on the gloves, wipe details of the drone and assemble it back. He is anyway deactivated.”
“Smith, drive capsule onto the deck to the barbecue area. We will leave,” – said Hans and then turned to Kim.
"Kim, dig up two bushes of currant and prepare for loading it in UAZ. And look, if the soil is natural, then it also needs to be taken along with the bushes."
“Well, Hans, I will do so,” – said Kim, and with a grin went off to carry out the task.
“I'm not Hans, I'm boss for you,” – said Hans, – “you get it, right?”
“Got it, boss,” – said Kim, ceasing to smile, and then hastened to leave.
Everything was ready for departure. Currant bushes were also prepared, but not yet immersed in the capsule. Hans handed the medical pistol to Arkady and said, – “Arkasha, as we load the currants, you will make the hostages an injection. Don’t throw the gun, we’ll take it with us. Everything must be done cleanly.”