Читать книгу Destiny's Puppets - Henri Mallet - Страница 10

It was already past midnight. The streets of Moscow were empty, occasionally cars would pass by the inconspicuous van parked at the side of Gorky street. Two men were sitting inside, monitoring the equipment which the van was stuffed with.

“How are our doves doing? Still cooing?” Major Lazarev questioned while entering the van. He silently closed the door behind him.

One of the employees took off his headphones and winked at Anatoly with a satisfied look, «they have complete order there. They are totally fine. Larisa is really something! What a woman! She has already gutted Svetlov twice,» the man made an indecent gesture and laughed.

«The recording has been going on from the moment they entered the apartment, so everything is recorded. Now they are asleep, everything is quiet there.»

«Keep on monitoring. I’ll go and make an order to let Roshin free. If she turns up here, by no means let her enter the apartment.»

Major Lazarev went out of the van and, using the street phone, called the officer responsible for Roshin. «That’s all. You can let her go.»

“Okay, doing this. George is asking if he can still portray Tatiana’s lover and sleep with her.” A satisfied laugh came from the receiver.

“George has done a good job today. Isn’t he tired? What about Roshin?”

“Oh, they are all normal here, she already kisses and hugs him herself.”

“Let them do what they will. A special thanks to George from me.” Lazarev hung up the receiver and headed for his car.

Anatoly was driving along the streets of Moscow. The city never sleeps – the lights are flashing, buzzes with watering machines, and people are bustling around from one pub to the next. The motor of his brand-new «Pobeda» was rumbling quietly. The fallen leaves were flying from under the car wheels, dancing and then slowly resting back on the ground. There was a scent of autumn in the air and the temperature plummeted as dusk turned to night, causing people to hurry to their warm homes. The withered, and in some places still green grass, was covered with an intricate pattern of frost in the mornings, but this quickly melted as the days were quite warm and sunny.

Anatoly loved all seasons in his own way, but early autumn brought a unique touch of melancholy into his soul. It was the time when the setting sun in the evenings made all things crimson, and blue grey shadow enveloped the city with autumn sadness. The dancing of multicolored leaves and the flocks of birds heading south brought back memories, emotions, and an undeniable desire to escape from oneself. Anatoly wished to leave behind the all-consuming feeling of solitude which constantly pulled at his heart.

He was lonely, poignantly lonely. He spent all his free time working or training. At times the major tried to persuade himself that he was actually free, not lonely. He was free from love-affairs, the stress of starting a family, or any potential emotional baggage, but sometimes he had to admit that it was far from the truth.

He drove to his apartment building, parked his car, went up to his floor, unlocked the door and entered the hall, in which his steps resounded loudly.

Anatoly Lazarev went up to the fridge and opened it, «oh, I completely forgot to buy groceries.»

He opened the pantry, «so, what we have,» critically examining the contents, took out a large package of pasta and tinned meat.

He was lucky to have stocked up enough tinned meat. He habitually poured some water into the saucepan and put it on the stove. While the pasta was being cooked, Anatoly opened the tin and dropped the contents out onto the frying pan.

“Well, pasta and tinned meat are not so bad,” he said out loud, “I promise to buy some food tomorrow.”

Anatoly laughed, “Here you are, major, you’ve already started talking to yourself, congratulations!”