Сергей Огольцов – The Tallest Story Ever (страница 10)

I walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked… At times, just for a change and healthy recreation, I paced and paced and paced and so on…

The dawn kept growing, but too leisurely. “What a lazy dawn!” thought I and swapped pacing for walking. And then – instantly! – it dawned on me! Hey, dude! It’s not the dawn rising from behind the curved horizon, but I myself am submerging into it, and disappear beyond the irregular horizon!

The rather unusual discovery introduced a knotty dilemma (hi! Nice to meet you! – O! I pray< the pleasure is mine!): stay lying in the semi-darkness on the hard sheet glass of an enticing bottle-green shimmer in its depths, or, despite the growing fatigue, keep going where it is light and – betcha! – clean.

After all, in the entire still life drawing around me, ominously silent and sterile, even a willing ant wouldn't possibly find a fleck of dust to trip over.

And it's not easy to imagine that the doctor (who, by the by, is also an ant), would give him a sick note together with a signed prescription for a codeine pill. Now, just compare the ant's mass to that of the pill in question and scale, proportionally to the average mass of a special agent, then, with so ample amount of codeine I would… eh… What was I about?

At that point I had to tighten my grip on the reins of my thought-steeds, too eager to gallop clattering their hoofs over the beer-bottle green terrain echoing their joyful neighs…

Good heavens! Is there really not a single living soul mid all this sterility? Am I so utterly alone, putting aside the vaguely luring fantasies of insect life and the innumerate baaing sheep left behind over the horizon?

Whether it’s scary is the wrong question. I'm not supposed to be afraid. ‘Cause I'm a legend: 0-7th, inofficial nom-de-guerre "Turret Lost Tank" And the Center always knew that. They value me for my weight in gold, even though sentenced to four prison terms. Not at once. Sequentially. And, in fact, for nothing, just for my being me in wrong surroundings.

After all, I'm the one they send where there's a complete snafu and no chance to come back. They throw me into firing embrasures. Drop into active volcan craters on an expired rope.

And clearly, from the mission you’re coming back one bundle of raw nerves, like, ‘I don't give a damn about all of you…’ Then, in a state of weakened adaptation to peaceful life, you splash a glass of vodka into some idiot's mug. But there are stars in the idiot's shoulder straps – wow! – each one the size of three figs put together. Then, of course, there's another special closed trial, followed by one more special vacation.

Each hitch ends samely – early amnesty. They know well that where Vasiok is, there is victory and mission completion 122 % clear. Countless safes cracked, sheikhs blown up, worlds saved, top-secret technologies stolen! Any world, from the first to the third, bears marks of the sign known to all: "Vasya was here!" My hand is steady, my funk ruthless, revenge spicy, and risk in the name of the mother-phucking-land is sacred by default.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «Литрес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на Литрес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.