Platform Begovaya. Book I. Chapter 5

           The beginning of November was a warm and sunny day. Alexey was returning from school in high spirits. There is nothing to be sad about, finally, life was getting better. Today he received a five in literature and a four in German. But even this did not make him so happy, but the fact that, finally, the grandmother was discharged from the hospital, and she was at home. How happy he was to see her again at home and to know that he no longer had to spend the night alone in an empty flat.

But after this injury, she had not fully recovered yet, but Lyoshka hoped that everything would be fine. They just needed time. Now grandma walked with a wand, still feeling weak, and therefore he took over all the housework. He continued to cook them food from the meager set of products that he managed to get for a miracle received a pension. But this was not the point. Today, at last, he could go to the stable of the hippodrome to horses. All this time, Alyosha stood stoically and was not there, realizing that there were more important things and he needed to be able to endure and wait. And here at last – this day Grandma said that she would cope on her own, and he could go to his horses.

So he did. Coming after school and feeding his grandmother with lunch, Alyosha, quickly changing his clothes, rushed off to the train.

During his absence at the stable, barely anything had changed. The girls met him with joy. Fat Makha even squeezed him in her powerful embrace, but Petrovich was at first happy, and then turned pale while looking at him.

"Why didn't you get a haircut?"

And then Alexey remembered ... For all this time, he completely forgot about the haircut. And when he could remember about this ... and the money he had spent on medicine, and they just survived on the grandmother's meager pension, as now she could not earn money by cleaning at Isabella's.

"Petrovich, the car with hay came! It's necessary to unload," shouted Makha from the door of the stable.

"Can I help with unloading?" Lyosha wanted to be here so much, he missed horses desperately and probably would just have died if Petrovich had driven him out of some stupidity like his hair.

Petrovich hesitated, but then waved his hand. All the same, it was necessary to unload the car, and extra hands intercepting a bale of hay along the chain would not be superfluous. Well, and who would unload this hay, when there were only girls. And then – there was Nazar with his visits.  But he did not come all this time, maybe they would be lucky and today...

***

A car with hay could not drive closer, and therefore hay, pressed into bales, was first thrown out of the vehicle body by girls who had gotten there. What was thrown out of the body, was put by two bales into a flimsy, still not completely collapsed cart, was taken inside the stables and put into a free loose box there. And that what didn't fit in the loose box, was necessary to transport and storage under a street canopy. The bales were eighteen to twenty kilos. The hay rope that tied them up was cutting hands, but was it really important? After all, Alyosha knew that it was hay, which was so hard to get. It was necessary to find it on sale, calling the collective farms, agreeing to be brought to their stable, to collect money from the rental to pay for such a machine, and hay is the main food of horses. And so he dragged these bales, hearing how the horses were neighing in the stalls, inhaling the smell of dried grass with nostrils and sniffing invitingly, attracting attention, as if asking a person to give them this delicious hay. Lyosha knew what happened when there was a stoppage with hay and then it was necessary to give the horses very little of this hay, stretching the scarce reserves for several days. And it had happened. But now they brought a lot of hay, and it meant the horses would eat their full. From the realization of all this, he did not feel sorry for himself and carried heavy bales all evening.

When the clock showed nine in the evening, Alexey realized that he needed to return home. He could not leave Grandma alone for long. However he wanted to be here today, he overcame himself and went to Petrovich to say that it was time for him to go home.

"And I've thought you will ride your Tokha."  Petrovich confusedly looked at the guy standing in front of him. "I practically did not give it to anyone. Well, and to whom to give it ..., it will throw off somebody again."

"I cannot today ... I need to go home..."

"Will you come tomorrow?"

"Yes! I will come every day as before ... only I can't be up until late ... my grandmother is ill."

Petrovich sighed, shook his hand, and walked toward the bales of hay, which were not carried yet and were lying on the side of the entrance.

Alyosha was very sad because that day he did not ride a horse. Moreover, the coach left Toha to him. And not surprisingly, Badminton was harmful and often behaved very badly under the rider, who fell from it. But Lyokha was tenacious like a mite and always sat to the last. He even could not remember now, when he fell from a horse for the last time, it seems it was a long time ago.

Lyosha sighed again, but the grandmother was more important than his desire to ride on Toha, and so he quickly began to change clothes, taking off his well-worn stable clothes and wearing like civilized but similarly washed-out things that only didn't smell like horse sweat. This smell was usually strongly scared people around him sitting on the train when he did not have time to change and went home in the things that he was wearing on a stable.

He changed his clothes and thought that it was good in any case because he had got to unload hay today. After all, he trained free from Petrovich, or even, it was the usual agreement between such young boys and girls, seeking equestrian sport, but who had no money for it. And they for training and the ability to ride horses helped around the stable: they cleaned the stalls of manure, changed the bedding there, cleaned and saddled horses for rent, and then unsaddled them, and put them in order, and of course, they unloaded cars with hay, oats, bran, and sawdust. Well, they also did minor work on putting grease ammunition, cleaning the stable, and a lot of everything that was required to keep the entire facility clean. So, with a sense of accomplishment, Lyosha walked out of the stable and went along a poorly lit walkway towards the checkpoint.

Toward him, blinding headlights, several cars rode.

***

Before going to Petrovich, the whole brigade drove into the market to Armen, who listened to their wishes about the celebration of life, and literally, in five minutes the trunks of their cars were packed with bags and boxes of food and drink.

Reaching the hippodrome in high spirits, the mob saw a puny guy walking towards them, who on the run pulled a hat on his head.

"Hey, Nazar,"  the guy sitting in front turned to Nazar, who was already drinking a bottle of vodka from the throat, "this is the fag... well, who has to have a haircut. Maybe look at his hair?"

"Brake," Nazar said drunkenly, vaguely recalling who was being talked about at all.

But when he got out of the car and saw him in the headlights, his mind immediately sobered up. He clearly understood who was in front of him.

"Take off your hat," said Nazar coldly.

"What for?" he heard back and looked intently into the eyes of the boy standing in front of him. His voice and the way he responded showed there was no fear in him, although he was surrounded by all the mobsters who had got out of the cars.

"Hey, you, asshole," - the mob standing next to the guy stretched out his hand. "Got some balls? Take off your hat!"

The boy continued to stand and, without a shadow of fright, look into Nazar's eyes.

As the pause hung and Nazar was silent, the initiative was taken by another mob.

"Take off the cap," he pulled his hands to him and immediately was struck back, "bros, well, hold him!"

And here it began. Several guys rushed to Alexey. He felt a blow in the gut and a few more on the ribs. They twisted his hands very painfully and pulled off a knitted hat from his head.

In the headlights, Nazar could see the fair waves of his hair crumbling fascinatingly and flickering in the dark. He was silently standing and watching from the side of everything that was happening.

"You see, fag did not cut his hair."

Lyosha felt how he was roughly grabbed by the chin and raised his face.

"Exactly, the raver, ran up. Well, who will rape him?"

"Quiet," Nazar heard Yefim's voice, continuing to stay in a strange vacuum, "why didn't you have your hair cut? We gave you money from the common cash fund. You should have done what we said," - Yefim's voice sounded ominously hoarse, but calm at the same time.

"Fuck you," Alyosha twitched and immediately received several blows to the ribs, and then another in the face.

"Quiet!" Yefim's voice again sounded, "leave the kid," he went to Lyosha and lifted his chin, looking into his eyes.  "Cut your hair. Do you understand me?" then he looked at the possies, - "let the guy go."

Mobsters immediately executed this command. Although Yefim did not raise his voice, he spoke with such a grave chill in words that no one dared to contradict him. And in general, they tried not to stay in Yefim's way. He was the eldest here, he was already thirty-two, and he had spent time in prison more than once, and he had killed without any regret, and that was what caused the respect and fear of the guys.

They released Alexey, he picked up his hat and limping, wiping the blood from his nose, went towards the exit from the hippodrome.

"Why are you frozen," Yefim said quietly, standing in front of Nazar and closing Alexey's retreating figure, "get into the car," - for some reason, he said even more quietly.

Silently, Nazar got into the car, feeling that he had never felt so crappy. Up to this point, everything in his life was clear and intelligible; he always knew when he was right and when he wasn't. He always knew what to do or not to do. He always knew in any situation how he should behave and never could reproach himself for cowardice, weak character, or fear.

So why now all the alcohol had evaporated in a matter of seconds, and he found himself in such a crystal bright space where he and this Alyosha were. And he, Nazar, did not know what to do. Yes, he did not know what to do, watching everything happening in front of him. Rather, he knew that everything his mobsters said and did with this hairy Lyosha was all right, but then why did he feel so crappy? As if he had betrayed someone as if he had been afraid, hidden, scared. Could he do that? It was he who had never hidden and boldly looked in the eyes of death there, in Afghanistan. And here all these five years he had never been frightened and had not violated his principles and rules. And now he had not broken them, then what had happened to him? Why was it so ugly inside, why did he still physically feel the pain from the blows of this flimsy body, when the guy was beaten by his chums, as if they beat him, and not this Alyosha. Why was he so ashamed of everything that had happened? Why was it so ugly...?

"Nazar, let's go,"Yefim was standing at the open door and waiting for him to get out of the car.

He climbed out of the backseat and bumped into Yefim's eyes, who stared at him. Nazar paused, and then he averted his eyes and quickly went inside the stable. He knew that today he needed to get drunk to unconsciousness. Only in this way, he could get away from what he was not able to explain to himself.

***

Lyosha walked quickly to the platform. Blood had ceased to go from the nose. The body ached in the places of beatings, but it did not matter. All this physical pain was nothing compared to the pain inside him, which filled his soul and made his heart contract and his eyes fill with tears. He saw Nazar, all this time he saw how he was just standing and looking and saying nothing. Alyosha knew that everyone obeyed Nazar and only his word was enough and everything would stop, but Nazar was silent and watching. And because of this understanding, it was painful, so painful that in the train he stood in the vestibule and turned away to the window, sobbing softly and choking with tears that he could not hold back. He did not know what happened to him, he did not know why he felt this inside and did not know what he wanted from Nazar. But only he knew that all this was wrong and Nazar had to intervene. But why? Lyosha again clenched his teeth to the pain, so no one could hear his convulsive sobs. For the first time in his life, something had happened that he did not understand, and he did not know how to live on...

He definitely decided for himself one thing that he wouldn't have a haircut to spite all of them. Not at any price, never!

***

Yefim had been sitting in a jeep for the third hour and was waiting for Natashka to appear.  She was not at home - he was convinced by calling her at the apartment for a long time, and then heard a creak of the next door to be opened. And it was good luck since our neighbors are the best informers on their fellow creatures. A formidable body appeared in the doorway in a dressing-gown, which barely wrapped around these forms, and wickedly spoke.

"She is not at home, why are you ringing? She left with hers, with this businessman. Usually, she doesn't come home before 10 p.m., sometimes later."

"Does she come with the businessman?" asked Yefim, trying very hard to make the voice naive and kind.

"And with this one, and sometimes with her thug, but with him rarely, often with a businessman. And in general, she's told me –they love each other and will get married soon and fly away to America."

"Who will she marry?"

""A businessman of course, and who else. Who are you?" the female body stood menacingly in the doorway, completely filling it with itself.

"I'm her brother, second cousin. I worry about her, how she lives here alone..."

" Well, don't worry, she is a smart girl. Do you know how many of these businessmen she has brought to her place? In short, I'll be going now; I don't have time to shoot the breeze here with you."

An extensive female figure of indefinite, but far from a young age retreated deep into the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

Yefim wasn't surprised at all by the information he had heard, quickly went to his car, deciding to wait for the happy lovers.

The fact that Nazar's Natashka was a bit of a whore, he knew from the very beginning, only after seeing her. His life experience, the vigor in such matters, the pointed eye, and the fact that he was seven years older than Nazar, made themselves felt. He just didn't say that to Nazar, seeing his sincere feelings for this painted harlot. But when Nazar, in front of the whole gang, declared that he was marrying her, Yefim realized that it was his turn to intervene.

He did not blame Nazar for his naive look at his passion, and he was the same at his time of life. But then the life took the frills out of him and he knew how painful it was and he knew what Nazar had to go through if he connected his life with such a lass. That's why he decided that he did not want such an experience for his friend. Nazar didn't deserve all this and did not deserve such a nit as Natashka. And he did not want Nazar to harden his soul after going through pain and disappointment and become like him.

During these five years, they had become friends. At first, he perceived aggressively the arrival of a young and crazy Nazar in their brigade and then, seeing that he was not hiding behind the backs of the lads, like him a newcomer was always afraid of nothing at the shoot-outs and squabbles, he was in front of everyone, and Yefim was filled with respect for him, though kept away from this guy. And only after Nazar stood up for him when Oleg had substituted him after that Yefim changed his attitude towards Nazar.

 

Yefim remembered that day, when he was almost half-dead, he was unfastened from the battery and dragged into a small closet. Before locking the door, one of the mobs explained that Nazar had spoken a word for him and promised to find and return the money to Varlam. That's why Yefim was still alive.

 

What it meant "to say a word" to one of the gang members before the whole mob, Yefim knew, this meant that now either Nazar would find the money, or the two of them would be killed. Why did Nazar do that? Yefim knew. He was young, albeit reckless, but his soul had not yet become stubborn, he saw injustice and stood up for him. Yes, such actions are peculiar to youth, then it passes and only cold heartless planning remains. One that immediately arose in the mind of Yefim, who had long wanted to shift the power of the greedy Varlam in their gang, only he did not match this power to take, but Nazar - he was the leader, and this was his. And even then, lying in a small dusty closet, stinking of his own urine and feces, he knew that if they survived, he would stand next to Nazar and the two of them would break through to the power which both of them needed. That Nazar wanted power, Yefim saw it. Nazar was not a stupid fighter and especially a stooge. He was a born leader, this even Varlam sensed and now, probably, happily waiting to shoot Nazar and him, removing from the gang too clever guys.

 

***

How many days had lasted his imprisonment in the closet, Yefim did not remember. In the dark, everything merged into one stream of time, and then the door opened.

Yefim hardly distinguished Nazar. He saw that he did not even frown and did not disdain, he helped him stand up from the floor and, throwing his arm over his shoulder, led him to the car.

"Where should I take you?" Nazar asked him already in the car.

Yefim dictated the address, then hoarsely asked,

"Give me a smoke."

They silently smoked halfway. Yefim was the first to ask.

"Did you find him?"

"Yes. He had already made a passport to run abroad. But there the fire occurred in the summer community, in the house where he was waiting for this passport."

"This happens…"

"Yes, then the newspaper wrote, the wiring didn't stand, sparkled..."

Already in Yefim's flat, after he washed off in the bathroom after his imprisonment and began to look and smell like a human, they were sitting in the kitchen at dinner, which Nazar had prepared during that time and were talking.

On the table in the plates in front of them, there were dumplings, as the best things for a satisfying and quick snack, and there was also an open can of cucumbers and an opened bottle of vodka.

 

Then for the first time, Yefim himself spoke about the plan to remove Varlam and put Nazar instead. Nazar was silent for a long time, thinking about these words. That evening, he didn't give the answer. It was for this that Yefim respected him, he was careful, he would not blurt out too much. He would think a hundred times before speaking. But with all this, that wall of distrust between them collapsed. Now their friendship became that true, real, tested not by empty words, but by concrete deeds.

 

Yefim lived in a residential area Yasenevo in a separate two-room flat. After a heavy supper and drinking alcohol, it was naturally stupid to go somewhere, and Nazar stayed overnight with Yefim, especially since he lived alone and Nazar took a spare room. Then, later, he often came to Yefim to spend a few days, or just for the night, if they had a gangster gathering appointed early in the morning.

 

Without giving an answer that evening, the very fate of Nazar gave an answer for him, when in the next exchange of fire, Varlam was seriously wounded and he stepped back from the business, having gone to Israel for treatment, where he subsequently remained. But Varlam appointed his brother to his place, but that did not live long, having disappeared in an unknown direction, and then Nazar took their gang under himself.

Despite the fact that Yefim was wiser, older and more experienced than Nazar, he recognized his authority and began to obey him, becoming his deputy. Yefim saw that Nazar was the ideal leader for their lads: brave, fearless, who could spiel, jumping on the table or the hood of the car, so that the mobsters went to their dooms. He was a true leader, a ringleader, and Yefim was aware that he would never be like that. Not only that attracted him to Nazar. Behind all this recklessness, he saw intelligence and prudence, and the fact that Nazar was not simple, as it seemed, and the way he moved towards his goal. Yefim knew the direction - to power and money, and these goals were his own, and therefore he stood next to him knowing that the two of them were strong, that the lads were good, but these were the crowd, but two friends who were ready to die for each other would survive in this pack and achieve everything.

Therefore, Yefim was not indifferent to the fate of Nazar and even more to his personal life, which now could turn into a tragedy because of his inexperience and youth.

***

A Mercedes drove up to the entrance. A middle-aged man, about forty years old, got up from the driver's seat and, bypassing the car, opened the door. Natashka proudly climbed out of the car with a huge bouquet of white roses and slightly crouched, as she was a head taller than a short, balding businessman, kissed him on the lips, and then with a flickering pace of the village model of a rural catwalk headed towards the entrance. The businessman waited for the door to close behind her and, getting into the car, quickly drove away.

Yefim slowly came out of his jeep and headed for the entrance.

Hearing the bell, Natasha scrambled into a dressing gown on her perfect model body and, reaching the door, chirped:

"Andryusha, why are you so stubborn, we arranged with you for tomorrow..."

With these words, she opened the door and immediately received a hit in the face. Having flown away to the opposite wall of the corridor, everything went dark before her eyes and there was a pain pulsating in her nose, through that darkness Natasha saw Yefim entering her apartment.

He closed the door behind him, locking it, slowly walked to her, still sitting on the floor.

"Hello, Natasha. Sorry, that without an invitation, but I decided to drop in to congratulate you, you seem to get married Nazar. So, I am glad, as they say - harmony and love. So I wanted to congratulate you on this..."

Natasha listened with horror to this hoarse grave voice and felt that she was in a sad pickle. There was no thought at all in her head, much less a plan for how to be saved. And the fact that she needed to escape, she felt by every cell of her body. And then, being on the verge of despair, she decided to do something that always worked.

"Efimushka," she blew out, tearing herself off the wall and kneeling, and then also on her knees approached Yefim standing in front of her, "let's suck," she suggested without hesitation.

Yefim saw Natashka's face with running mascara, red and blue nose opposite the fly of his trousers and then her hands, which with professionally learned movements began to unbutton his fly.

He was sick. Not but that he did not like a blowjob. He also loved it, but now it was different. He saw a woman in front of him that his friend was ready to marry...

After suppressing nausea and feeling the taste of bile in the mouth, Yefim pushed Natasha away from him and, stepping back, tucked the dick back into the pants, buttoned his fly.

" Natash, you probably did not understand. I came to talk, and you want your mouth to be busy. It will not work. Well, tell me how you are making out with Nazar. When is the wedding?"

Natasha, arriving in shock at the fact that for the first time in her life a man, whose dick she was almost ready to take in her mouth, refused her services, so malevolently sizzled.

"There will be no wedding. Fuck he gave me up, this psycho. And what a life with him will be, he can only shoot and beat muzzles. And I want a smart husband."

"Like your bald papa?"

"Yes, that! What else do you want from me?! I do not like Nazar, I do not like!"

Natashka was already on the verge of hysterics, and she even was not afraid of Yefim in such a state.

"So tell it to Nazar," Yefim saw her hysterical state when fear grew into aggression.

"Did you come for this?"

"Yes."

Natasha paused, then straightened her dressing gown, which had opened wide, and proudly straightened up, replied.

"With pleasure. If that's all, and you don't want anything from me anymore, then leave."

Yefim looked at her with disgust, watching through the gown at full breasts, and the figure of a Barbie doll then turned away and left the apartment.

Going to the car, he wanted to wash his hands, although he understood that such a vile feeling after this conversation was impossible to wash off.

***

Petrovich was standing at the competitive obstacle and watching Alexey taking up his horse for the third time. He was pleased with today's training. Alyosha was doing well and in his heart, he was proud of his student, but he still maintained a stern expression on his face and a formidable voice.

"Do not forget to count," he shouted, seeing that Alexey directed his horse to the barrier, "sit in the saddle! Keep your carriage. Leg, more, more! Don't pull the rein."

Lyosha sped past Petrovich on horseback. Before the obstacle, the horse grouped, tucked its front legs, pushed, jumped forward and up. Although it was a serious height, about a meter thirty-five, the horse went clear without hitting obstacles and landed behind it.

"Well done!" Petrovich could not restrain himself, then he again gave his voice severity, began to give instructions. "Remove this obstacle from the parade ground, when you put Badminton in the loose box, but put another obstacle, a fence, there," he showed to the right of himself, - rental starts at five, they will jump. Saddle Fast for the rental by five.

Alexey walked around Petrovich sitting on a horse and listened to his orders. Tokha after such jumps stretched his neck to its full length and snorted contentedly, restoring his breath.

Petrovich glanced at the happy face of Alyosha.

"Why didn't you cut your hair?"

"Well, it's invisible, I'm wearing a cap," Lyosha shrugged vaguely, pointing to the cap on his head.

"Cut your hair ... really, Nazar rarely comes with his guys lately, but it's better not to anger him."

"Petrovich!" They turned to fat Mashka fleeing to them in an even thicker bologna jacket and Puffer boots with the inscription "Alaska". "The car with sawdust has arrived. The driver is waiting when you pay."

Petrovich immediately switched to the problems of the stable and went after Masha, who continued to chatter, as always about everything at once.

Although from that memorable moment when Lyosha was kicked by Nazar's mobsters, enough time had passed, he clearly remembered everything and waited all this time for them to arrive again. Of course, he understood that he was behaving foolishly, but he didn't get a haircut. And what was the point in this, it was already winter and he now constantly wore a cap, and at school, knowing his plight and illness of his grandmother, the teachers tried not to press him, they regretted him as much as they could. That's why Lyosha went with his hair, which had already grown much after the summer, hiding it under a cap and waiting for what would come of it.

Besides he had plenty to do not having time to think about sad things. Grandma no longer worked, and they lived exclusively on her retirement pension. However, she began to knit because of the appeared free time and even occasionally sold knitted things. It was at least a small increase in their meager budget. Lyosha studied and went to the stable.

Petrovich resumed training with him in his free time. Badminton recovered from the injury, and Lyoshka gradually put him into the work, increasing the tension with each passing day. Of course, at first, after that injury, Tokha stood for a long time and only walked, but despite the illness, the energy accumulated in him, and when the day came to saddle him, all the girls from the stable crowded around the side of the parade ground to see what would happen.

And Badminton met their hopes. As soon as Alyosha sat on him, Tosha, feeling the freedom, began to bounce up like a goat, then he bucked a couple of times and swiftly sped up on the parade ground, riding in circles and increasing speed.

All this Lyosha assumed to receive from Badminton, stagnant after the disease. He managed to sit in the saddle while the horse was bucking, and when, after biting its snaffle, it ran away with him along the parade ground, he did not even try to slow it down, knowing that it was useless. It was like trying to stop a locomotive. Tokha was a master to bite a snaffle so it didn't matter how much you pulled for the rein it didn't give any result; it seemed that it was tied to the fence. That's why Lyosha was sitting on a rushing Badminton and waiting for it to blow off steam.

Tokha had no guts to do it for a long time, and what was the interest to run in such a way? If the rider shouted, clung to the rein, pulled it or hung from the side of the saddle, slipping from it, that would be interesting, but here he was sitting, and it was riding him. So, having thought about what was happening, Tokha went into a trot, and then into a step. Lyosha felt a moment when it was time to take the initiative and, without letting the horse go, again raised him at a gallop, but now forcing him to ride according to his own will. Having established his authority over the unruly Tokha, he transited it into a step and, giving the rein, began to walk, knowing that it was enough for Badminton for today.

However, the next day it all happened again, but not so actively. Tokha bucked and even ran away, though not so fast, in three days Badminton was quite itself again. Although his cheerful temper could declare itself at any time, that's why Petrovich did not give this horse to others, knowing that these unfortunate riders would fall from it, only Alyosha could sit on it, and in general, he found a contact and mutual understanding with the horse.

Having fulfilled all the orders of the coach, Lyosha went to help the girls to throw sawdust. A car with sawdust usually unloaded them next to the shed. In the old days, a tractor came and shoved them deep into the shed so that they would not get wet from the snow and rain. But now these days were gone, there was no tractor, and also there was no extra money to pay for it. Therefore, twice a month, all the helpers in the stable took the shovels in their hands and threw this pile of sawdust from the street under the shed.

Such work did not frighten Alexey, he silently threw sawdust, hearing the incessant chatter of Nastya and Sonya and their constant pulling his leg. But he didn't take offense, kindly answered their jokes and threw dusty sawdust, crinkling his nose and sneezing from fine corrosive dust.

"Tomorrow the oats will come," said fat Makha, lighting a cigarette and looking at their work. "Lyokh, will you come tomorrow? How will we drag oats without you?"

"I will," Alexey affirmatively nodded his head knowing that thirty-five-pound bags of oats were not so easy to carry on a dilapidated wheelbarrow. Moreover, at first you had to throw these bags  from the side of the gazelle, and then, after loading one bag at a wheelbarrow, take it to the oat store at the end of the stable and put it in the rack there. It was good that they usually brought oats no more than forty bags; it took three hours to work if the girls helped too. So he would have time to exercise Toha.

In addition to all this, he was in charge of two more horses. Gradually, private horses began to appear in their stable, the owners of which rarely came to them, but these horses demanded care and work every day. And then Petrovich entrusted it to someone from the helpers in the stable. He secured two new horses for Alexey. One bright red horse was called Ampere, probably he would have been in a serious sport before. He knew a lot under the saddle and knew how to perform elements of upper-level dressage and even many circus cues. But the horse health was extremely fragile, most likely, because of excessive sporting loads, and now he was often limping, with all four legs, and in general, his appearance left much to be desired. It was said that the owner of Ampere bought it out of pity since it threatened to be handed over for meat. Therefore, nobody rode Ampere. His owner came to his horse once a week, bringing him apples and carrots, and Lyosha's duties included regular hand-walking of Ampere or walking under the saddle. It was impossible to let Ampere just walk in the levade, there he forgot about his sick legs and began to rush, making this even worse for himself. For that reason, the owner was glad that Petrovich had a strong rider, who was not afraid to sit on an energetic horse and walk him thirty minutes a day, restraining the horse impulse and not letting it go at a trot and especially at a gallop.

A heap of jars with ointments and rubbing for legs and a bag of bandages with rags were attached to the horse, which had to be bandaged the legs of Ampere after working. Alyosha liked to mess with him. He felt sorry for this horse and forgave him all its not very good impulses under him in an attempt to unseat him. After all, he understood that Ampere did not do it out of evil; he just really wanted to run and did not understand why people did not allow him to do it.

The second horse Petrovich gave to Alexey was a mare named Vienna. It was a beautiful tall bay horse, and in the sun on its steep sides, you could see appearing markings. Vienna, as a true woman, was canny and with her kinks. Perhaps it was because of the unstable behavior that she was sold to private owners, two rich little girls who dreamt of becoming great equestrians. Their horse was really good at jumping, but there was one thing about it. Now she jumped, then she completely refused to go on the obstacle, showing aggression towards the rider who was sitting on it. Vienna could rise on its hind legs, move back, or, jumping up, knock from the saddle the rider sitting on it with the lower back. Once even Lyosha could not sit on it and impressively landed on the already frozen ground of the parade ground.

Petrovich saw how Alexey quickly rose and, despite the fact that he was limping a little, caught the horse running away from him and climbed into the saddle. That moment Petrovich decided that they would agree. So it happened. Little by little, Vienna gained respect for Lyosha and began to jump under him, but when her mistresses came to the show-jumping training to Petrovich, Vienna was as if substituted, she became again the same bitch. But her proprietresses loved their horse and persistently continued to train on it, although they rode two or three times a week, no more.

Alexey was happy that now he already had two jumping horses, and he could regularly practice on them under Petrovich's control.

Everything also arranged Petrovich, because the owners of the horses paid him for the work with two private horses, he paid Alyosha a little of them, and took the rest for the maintenance of the stable, well, a little for himself, it was necessary to live on something. That's how they lived.

 

Platform Begovaya, booktrailer, video

 

Platform Begovaya. Book I. Chapter 4

 This autumn morning Nazar met on the balcony of the seventeen-story building. He went out for a smoke and found the amazing moment of dawn when the sky was painted with the first rays of the sun and became transparent blue and so bottomlessly bright and clear that it was breathtaking.

"Like his eyes ..." It flashed in the mind.

He angrily shook off the ashes from a cigarette and put out a cigarette butt in a tin with water. These memories made him cease smoking abruptly, and also look at the sky.

Nazar went inside and quietly closed the balcony door. Natashka did not wake up from his walking, but only wrapped the blanket more tightly around her. Her blond, bleached hair lay on a pillow in long, tangled strands. In the room there was a smell of smoke; two drunken champagne bottles and a half-empty bottle of vodka were lying on the floor. Faded cucumbers and half-melted cake did not arouse a desire to eat them.

Feeling dry mouth from yesterday's drunk, Nazar went to the kitchen where he put the kettle on the burner.

His thoughts returned to yesterday evening. In general, he was pleased with everything and even, probably, happy ... Although yesterday, after drinking, he was really happy, looking at his Natashka with eyes full of passion. She was a beauty, a blonde with long legs and a painted face. He was a little annoyed by her eternal war-paint, which was then smeared on her face in a fit of their passion, but that was later. And yesterday she was sitting across from him in a miniskirt so that he observed her “allow yourself to indulge in everything” in all details. And this contemplation of the beauty and the consumed amount of alcohol led to a stormy and passionate night. Natashka moaned loudly and with dedication did everything for him that he only had dreamed of the girl in bed. Although he may have dreamed of a more modest person, this was due to sobriety, but if he was drunk, Natashka was even very helpful. That's how they were screwing half the night. Then she fell asleep, snoring drunkenly into the pillow, but he somehow sharply sobered up and was languishing to dawn, trying to fall asleep, but could not. That is why, when the first rays of the sun began to illuminate the darkness of the room, he went out to the balcony to smoke and saw this sky ... Only in the soul these foolish memories immediately surfaced ... his eyes from under the cap, looking at him ... and for some reason, it became ugly inside him and he was disgusted with himself. 

The whistle of the teapot brought Nazar out of the strange stupor in which he arrived. Brewing tea and slowly sipping it, he saw a sleepy Natasha in a depravedly short silk nightie walking to the toilet. When she left, he called her.

"Natus ... there is a conversation. Come on."

"I want to sleep," ugly yawning, Natasha slowly walked to Nazar, who was sitting on a stool.

"I have to leave, so I want to say. Yesterday I wanted to tell you ... let's get married."

There was an awkward silence. Nazar had never made such offers to girls and, in fact, did not know how to do it or what to say. But long ago having made such a decision in his life about marriage, he decided to act according to the situation. And now he was sitting and waiting for her to respond to his words.

Natasha sat on his knee and turned over his matted hair at the top of his head. On her face there were traces of the flowed mascara, because of this, one eye was brighter than the other one. She puffed up her plump lips, which had become even plumper from her yesterday efforts.

"I need to think…"

"We seem to have been together for a year already..."

"Well, not really ... you are constantly with your boys, you have a business ... and so occasionally visit me."

"I earn money and, by the way, for your and my living. This is my life and I will always live this way, and the money is not superfluous to us, and you love them too. You wanted a fur coat - I bought it for you and you have so many trinkets with rock candies, as a New Year tree hung with them. Nothing is too good for you. I want you to have everything, everything you want, that's why I work."

"Nazarushka, let’s live on like this for now ... Well, where are we to hurry?"

"Did you not walk up yet?" Nazar’s glance darkened. Natashka, in fear, froze in his lap, seeing the yellow sparkles in his eyes, which did not promise well.

"Well, no ...what, you didn’t understand me that way ..." She bleated, not knowing what to say.

"Do you have someone else?" his voice was strangely alien.

"No one! I love you! Only you," Natasha began to cover his face with kisses and Nazar thawed.

After the reconciliation prevailed, they talked a little more about plans for the future, and Nazar decided that he was probably too harsh with his beloved about this marriage. Perhaps she was right. She needed more time, and he would wait. After all, he loved her ... probably loved ... Although for some reason he was not sure of it somewhere deep down, he drove away these doubts. He clearly knew what he wanted from this life, and he wanted to rise above the crowd, and start a family - a wife and children. This was his goal, which he set for himself way back in 1986, when he joined the army, and he was immediately sent to Afghan. And there, seeing how his friends were dying and how his hands were in the blood of those whom he had killed not for great purposes, but to save himself and for the lives of his comrades, then he thought a lot about the meaning of life and swore that if he returned from this hell alive, no one and nothing would stop him on the path to his goal. He would no longer be a limp pawn that big men sent to the war for their own interests to please themselves. No, he would manage and dispose of those who are not capable of it. For this he needed money, which gave power. Therefore, after returning from Afghanistan, he immediately came to those who in their area had real power - to the mobsters. And there, in a short period of time within five years, he proved himself and from the ordinary militant of the brigade rose to its leader, thanks to his intelligence, fearlessness and purpose in life.

Now, having reached a certain stage and entrenched in the structure of power and having money, he decided that it was time to think about the family. He met Natasha by chance. A year ago, at the disco, he fought her off from some freaks, and since that moment they were having an amorous relationship. Having considered her candidacy for the role of his wife, he decided that she met all his requirements and dreams. She was a beautiful tall blonde with a bright appearance, besides she was a good cook, and her apartment was always clean and cozy. He liked her, her chirping about clothes and girlfriends did not bother him, after the guys’ talking he rested, listening to her ingenuous conclusions. All this taken together led him to the idea that he had found the one he had dreamed of. He wanted to make an offer to her just yesterday, but somehow everything began to turn: the drink, then the passion that flashed between them, and only this morning he came to talk with her about it.

Her not very happy perception of his proposal hurt Nazar a little, but he didn’t show it either ... Women are crazy, what could you expect from them? So his sidekick, Yefim, always reasoned and he was right. That's why he did not become angry with Natasha but decided to give her time to think about his proposal.

***

His day was intense. Moreover, this putsch brought variety to their not boring gangster life. Actually, they didn’t care what was happening in this country. They only tried not to get into the crowds of demonstrators and not to catch hell during this period of time, when those were crushed by tanks and fired at them. Mobsters only watched all this rigmarole from the side, realizing that the power was been dividing up there, and now it was better not to be in the light so as not to get into the common disaster. With all this, their business had not been canceled, and the places they controlled needed to be checked, they had to keep order in the prevailing chaos and to collect bribes. During these days, they even felt additional injections into the brigade common cash fund due to a shortage of products and a total deficit of everything. It was only to their advantage. The places under their control were actively supplied from their warehouses with products that literally swept away everything to zero, and at a price that was several times higher.

At lunch, all the guys went to the restaurant, where they sat down at a large table and called the waiter and ordered everything and more.

Yefim, knowing the heart affairs of Nazar, leaned toward him so that only he could hear, asked,

"You are sad today ... do you have a falling out with Natashka?"

"No ... I proposed to marry her, but she answered she would think."

Yefim had watched the love story of his friend for a long time, and several times he had seen this Natashka.

"Ignore her, what have you found in her? Well, she has to be glad to get married ... maybe it is better, that she’s refused."

"She did not refuse and said that she would think."

"Okay, don't feel bad. If you like her, I will be happy to make merry at your wedding."

Nazar smiled frowningly, realizing that he was not happy with all this. But what with? He was not happy with either the wedding, which had not yet taken place or the fact that it could take place. The strange state inside did not give him peace and certainty. The certainty that he had before ... before the case with this, with a tail...

"By the way, we have not been to Petrovich for a long time." Nazar looked up from his plate of food and looked at Yefim.

He also looked at him only that was somehow strange. Nazar averted his eyes, pretending to be passionate about cutting meat on plates.

"Today, we can go ... only at first let’s meet with Arkhipovskie, and then we will go to Petrovich."

Their conversation was heard by the possy sitting next to him and he said briskly.

"And we will check this pattled fag whether he has his hair cut or not. He was given common cash, and for it the answer must be kept before the mob."

"Maybe he had cut his hair," Yefim answered hoarsely, continuing to watch Nazar’s face, "if not then the answer will be kept. So, will we go to Petrovich after the “gathering”?"

Nazar affirmatively nodded his head and again turned to food, which had become tasteless, but he forced himself to eat, constantly feeling Yefim’s gaze on himself.

The music played softly in the restaurant until one of the drunken old mobsters demanded Apina to be turned on. And when the voice of the singer came from the speakers, the guys began to sing along the chorus about the plush skirt, adding vulgar comments and parodying this very Ksyusha. The other visitors of the restaurant, when mobs appeared, first fell silent, and then seeing that the fun was increasing, quickly retreated to the street.

Having had lunch in such high spirits, they sat down in five cars and drove behind the Moscow Ring Road at the gathering with Arkhipovskie.

Nazar assumed that this meeting would not end well, so he reloaded his pistol in the car and put it back in the belt of his jeans. Yefim followed suit.

The weather today was dry and sunny, although it was already November. Their cars stopped in front of the four cars standing by the guys from the Arkhip’s Brigade. Those arrived earlier and stood defiantly smoking and holding Kalashes in their hands. The fact that they, too, were in a serious mood could be seen from their behavior and the fact that when Nazar approached them, they did not even deign to take a step towards him.

Nazar went first, giving a sign to his guys hold on behind him. He clearly tracked all the people in front of him, and even those three who were hiding in the bushes on the side of the road. He immediately noticed them, such things did not elude the glance of the man who passed through Afghan and survived there.

"Hi, lads." Nazar stopped five paces away from them.

"Well, hi," the main one spat so that the spittle almost reached Nazar’s sneakers.

"We have a conversation." Nazar did not pay attention to this for the time being.

"It’s a trash talk. We have already told you – Sarychev is ours, we’ll bleed him. Come near to him, we’ll blow your head off."

"You, guys, are wrong, I want to divide by justice half-and-half. He has a great business and it’s enough for you and us. So let’s make a bargain."

"You cho, don’t understand? You’ve been already said - he is ours!"

"Ok, Ok," Nazar, with an imperceptible movement, put his hand behind his back, "yours is yours. So, get it."

With these words, he grabbed a pistol from his jeans belt and, rolling to the right, fired three bullets in the direction of the bushes. From there, a body of the bandits immediately fell, the second wounded rushed to the side, and the third, also obviously wounded but not much opened fire on him with a machine gun. But time had already been lost, and the surprise factor in the form of an ambush in the bushes was missed.

Nazar's boys peppered with fire the mobsters standing in front of them from Arkhip's brigade, they responded with fire, trying to hide behind the cars. Nazar managed to roll away to the side and now with a favorable position shot through the gas tank of a Cherokee standing in the very center of Arkhipov gang. The explosion thundered. Splinters and body parts of those who hid behind this car flew into the air. Since in the jeep there was some ammunition, it exploded well.

All this brought panic into the ranks of the enemy, but the Nazar’s guys, on the contrary, received a second wind, seeing that the advantage was now on their side.

The other five minutes shots from the TT and the strings of Kalashnikovs sounded, and then everything was quiet.

Nazar walked along those who were lying on the asphalt and shot them with an "insurance" shot

into the head.

There were casualties among their own members, too: one killed and three wounded.

"How are you?" having shot the boy writhing from Arkhipov’s brigade, Yefim scanned Nazar.

"Fine. And you?"

"Me too. Did you know that they set up an ambush in the bushes?" seeing that Nazar nodded, Yefim spat on the asphalt. "Sons of a bitch. Well, how are you doing with them? We came to have trash talk with them, simply to make a scene, and they had decided to shoot us like goofs."

"They may have decided, but that's how it has all happened." Nazar, reloading the pistol, shot another guy lying on the pavement into the head.

"You are crazy, Nazar ... Reckless. You should have hinted at least that there was an ambush ... Why did he get there himself, you could be injured..."

Nazar just waved his hand and walked toward their cars.

"Well, now let's go to Petrovich," one of their fellows cried, "we should lift the elbow. Now we’ll take over the whole Sarychev’s business. "

"We still have to shoot for this business ... Arkhip will not give it up so easily." Nazar lit a cigarette near the car. "We have now declared war on him. But only I will not give in. From the principle, I will not. After all, I wanted to be honest with him - fifty-fifty, and he, bitch, sent people to kill us. So now he has had it, neither he has long to live nor his gang - I promise you this, lads."

Inspired by such a speech, the guys started talking at once and, in high spirits, getting into cars, drove towards Moscow to the hippodrome to celebrate such an event - a declaration of war with the gang of Arkhip.

***

Nazar was driving and listening with half an ear to the excited conversation of the guys, sitting in jeep Cherokee. And he looked at the streets of Moscow, thinking that during these five years he began to kill people simply, and this entered his life and had become a commonplace already. But again he did not allow himself to feel the pricks of conscience for those who remained lying there on the asphalt. He put his conscience deep inside himself, leaving on the surface only the brutal mask of the leader and ringleader of their gang, to whom everyone obeyed, recognizing his power and strength.

He remembered how it all began a long time ago, in the ninetieth, when he had been in this gang for the role of a militant for almost two years and was fully subordinate to Varlam. And then this setup occurred, when, on Varlam’s instructions, he came to pick up the money and walking along the brothel’s corridors, he got a crowbar over the head, and then everything in his life abruptly changed.

He remembered how, after having a little recovered, he ran away from the hospital and went to their rented apartment, which was located in the old five-story building not far from the Molodezhnaya metro station.

Having paid off the taxi driver and still feeling not very healthy, he slowly walked to the entrance. Climbing up to the third floor, he called. He wasn’t opened for a long time, and then he entered a smoked corridor with the smell of stale air, poorly lit, and through it got to the room where the table, sofa, shabby chairs and the old cupboard with a sideboard stood. Everything in the room was as usual: the smell of smoke, sweat and it was smoked so much that you could cut the air with a knife.

There were a lot of people there now, almost their entire brigade. Some sat at the table, which was an untidy picture of dirty dishes, empty cans, bottles of alcohol and food, which was already there in the semi-musty state, among all this mess. There were remains of bread, unfinished sausage loaf, faded salad in a bowl, dried buckwheat in a saucepan and crinkled dumplings on plates.

Nazar winced at the smell that hit his nose and caused a headache. He quickly turned away from the table, feeling the gagging urge from the view of the table.

Varlam got up from the sofa and, pulling up the training pants, imposingly approached him.

"It's great, brotha, well done, that you so quickly got back on your feet,"- he embraced Nazar and patted his back, then, pulling away, pointed to the table. "Will you eat?"

"Not."

"Well, let's have a trash talk down," Varlam pointed to his chair.

Nazar threw an old newspaper out of the chair and pushed an empty bottle of vodka on the floor with his foot. He sat down again, turned his eyes to Varlam, who continued.

"Tell me what was there?"

"We arrived. Yefim was in the car. Oleg and I went to take the dough. In the corridor, I got on a head. And that's all..."

All the mobsters in the room were silent, listening to his story. Varlam was also silent. Then he spoke,

"And now I will tell you what was there. There was not only loot for the month, but there was also loot from all of his business, of this businessman. There were eight hundred grand of greens. Shit happens, brotha, and what’s the result? Never mind? You don't seem to remember anything ... Yefim, it seems, did not see anything ... but Oleg does not exist at all. And eight hundred grand disappeared..."

Nazar understood the whole point. Eight hundred thousand dollars disappeared, and the three of them were suspicious. He calmly continued to look into the eyes of Varlam, who, after a pause and just looking into his eyes, continued.

"I know it's not you. I asked the doctor about your head. You were lucky, the blow should have been for sure, without chances ... but apparently, you are lucky ... The ceiling is low there, the one who beat you couldn’t blow at right, so it was a little passing and the skull was not cut. That's why I know that it is not you." Varlam paused, seeing the completely calm face of Nazar, that did not change while he was saying all this. "That’s Yefim and Oleg. But Oleg, the bitch, took off, and we managed to tie Yefim...

"This is not Yefim." Nazar said firmly, realizing that now he was standing up for a man with whom, actually, he didn’t get along very well all this time.

"Nazar, I respect you ..." Varlam waited for a pause. "Are you sure that you are ready to pay for this?"

"Yes. Sure."

"Do you need it?" leaning back in his chair, Varlam asked with a challenge.

"Yefim didn’t do this." Nazar said stubbornly, yellow lights sparkled in his eyes, which did not bode well. "Where is Yefim?"

"In the basement ... the one you know. Where we usually ask to give us the answer. So, you know, for all these days, he, as a partisan, is silent ... and has not died yet, although I think the guys have overdone a little..."

"He has nothing to do with. Leave him, Varlam."

"You know, I don't care. I need my loot. You return the loot, get your Yefim alive and well."

"I will find Oleg ... and your money."

Varlam extended his hand, which Nazar shook, securing the deal between them in such a way.

Like this. Just one handshake, and his life and Yefim’ one were at stake. If he had not intervened, Yefim would have been killed simply because he was there, although he did not take the money. And now he got into it himself, and already their two lives hang in the thread, woven into one. That's how simple it is, the life of a person is nothing compared to bundles of green bills tied with an elastic band.

All this Nazar pondered while driving home. The fact that the attack on them was no accident he understood. The fact that everything was serious he also guessed on the annoying presence of a young lieutenant in his room with regular interrogations while he was lying there, recovering from a concussion. But the fact that everything was so bad, he understood from Varlam's meager story. Yes, Varlam did not suspect him and this was logical. No one would organize an attack on himself and punch his head. Other things were Yefim, who was sitting in the car and waiting for them, and Oleg, who was gone. Although no one knew where he had been gone. Those who attacked them could simply shove him into the trunk of a car and throw into the woods, and in this case, it was Yefim. But Yefim hadn’t done it. Why did Nazar know this? He just knew and that was all. Despite his young age, he saw people through and through: their inside, essence that was their true face. This vision he did not open immediately in himself. Probably, having passed through two years of war in Afghanistan, he began to look at the world differently. It was a war. It made him different. It removed from him that scurf of faith in the good that he had before, and left only the harsh truth of life. After returning from there, he changed. And how could you not change when you had been killing people for two years? And it didn’t matter that they were people of a different faith, and they seemed to be enemies, and you only protected your life and those who were near, but you killed, and that changed you. Now he had never smiled as before, kindly, sincerely. Now there was not a smile on his face, but a grin. He remembered the warm blood that had been poured on his hands for the first time, and now here, already in civilian terms, he killed in the same calm, without hesitation. And the regrets and torments of conscience had long been deep inside.

So why now he decided to stand up for Yefim, although for all these more than two years, while he was in the gang, he was always a loner. He was feared and respected, despite his youth. They were afraid of fearlessness, perhaps even recklessness, and respected him because taking people to a meeting, he had thought through and planned everything so clearly and correctly that he succeeded in everything, and he always went out as a winner. He possessed the true qualities of a leader, for which mobsters in his brigade respected him and hated Varlam, feeling that his throne could falter if Nazar would continue to behave in the same way.

That's why now Varlam gladly hooked on the words of Nazar and gave him the opportunity to intervene for Yefim. He understood that it was almost impossible to return eight hundred grand, which meant that according to the laws of the brigade, both Yefim and Nazar, who said the word for him, would die for it.

Nazar looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. There he was looked at by the calm gaze of a lone wolf.

"We only live once." Nazar winked at his twin in the mirror, seeing how yellow sparks flashed in his eyes.

***

It took Nazar much time to resolve this pain in the ass organized by Oleg.  He apparently was preparing carefully and for a long time. The fact that Oleg was rotten inside Nazar knew, felt his essence and therefore always kept away from him. Although, when Varlam sent them on a mission, it was not a matter of choice with whom to deal. In all their gangster clashes with other mobsters, Oleg always hid behind others backs. Nazar had seen it but had never told anyone about it. Oleg got into the brigade not so long ago, about six months ago. He was fetched by one of them, only then this lad was killed in another skirmish, there was no Nazar there. Only Oleg returned from the showdown, that time no one gave any significance to this fact, apparently in vain.

Now, trying to find at least some clues to grasp who betrayed them, Nazar cross-examined all those who could be in this brothel at that time: all the guards and all the prostitutes who stayed there to sleep.  He even had to intimidate the cleaning woman so that she remembered everything, and not only that was strange on that day, but also that month in this establishment. This impact method gave its results. Nazar found a clue, the one who had gone into the basement through another entrance and had been waiting for him with the crowbar ready. Then everything was clear and logical. Only Oleg knew that there would be only two of them since Yefim always stayed in the car, he was older and did not go to take away money. So the second was in collusion with Oleg. Nazar heard Oleg's voice, distracting his attention at the right moment.

He figured out this person. He was recognized by the cleaning woman, she caught a glimpse and remembered that he was working here as a plumber. Nazar had affairs with different people, he traveled, chatted with them, left info. And soon Nazar was informed that the person he was searching for had been found in the forest, not far from the Moscow Ring Road, already in a half-decomposed state.

The fact that Oleg wouldn’t spare his partner, Nazar did not doubt. Now there was the most difficult thing - to find Oleg. He had no relatives in Moscow; he was a visitor from Khabarovsk. Nazar knew that he would not go to his hometown to seek shelter, because he understood that they would be looking for him. With such money, people usually go abroad.

Shaking all the small surroundings of Oleg in the form of his girlfriend and neighbor in a rented room in a communal flat, he went on his trail.

He found Oleg hiding in a country house in one of the numerous summer cottage associations. Silently climbing the stairs, he quietly penetrated inside and saw Oleg sleeping in a narrow iron bed. From the rustle in the room, he woke up.

Nazar approached him and handed over to still sleepy Oleg his new international passport, which he had ordered from his friend, sealed with a different name and surname, but with Oleg’s photo.

"Are you waiting for this?"

Oleg shrank all over, realizing that his hour had come.

"Nazar, I have money ... eight hundred grand. Let's split it in half," - seeing Nazar's eyes, he spoke stammering, "take everything, just don't kill..."

"For what did you get Yefim in the wrong?"

"Well, I do not give a shit to Yefim, here there are eight hundred big ones. We will live as humans. Nazar, think, eight hundred thousand greens!"

"They will kill Yefim if I don’t return the money."

"Well, what's the difference..."

"You are playing foul; for the sake of dough, you’ve framed one of us."

"Spare ... do not kill..."

Nazar went to the side of the road, where he had parked a Beemer, taken from one of his people for a while. He heard the burning country house crackle in the distance, as the watchman yelled and as a few residents of the neighboring houses came running to the fire, since it was autumn, and therefore the summer house partnership had already become empty after the end of the summer season.