Mercenary at heart. Scott Melani

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Mercenary at heart - Scott Melani

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style="font-size:15px;">      – So, as you realise, this is a big step towards your bright future, so you need to take it as seriously and responsibly as possible. Even though we're family, I'm going to treat you the same way I treat the rest of the staff. Perhaps even more demanding. But it's all for your own good. Once you get a job or start your own business – life will not give you any favours. On the way will constantly arise problems and turmoil, which must be solved independently on the basis of experience and knowledge. It is not enough just to turn the steering wheel and press the accelerator. Over time, you will realise that the transport business is a much more complex process than it seems at first glance. You don't have much experience in driving yet, but I think you should be able to handle this baby. Come on! – George finished his monologue, and everyone headed for the exit of the house.

      There was another car in the parking lot next to my father's truck, an old generation yellow passenger car with gray decorative stripes on the sides. The seats were covered with dark brown leather covers, and the interior trim was made of high-quality wood material. On the roof, above the front seats, there was a rectangular glass sunroof with an opening mechanism.

      – What do you think? Do you like it? – George said proudly with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

      – Am I going to drive it? By yourself? – Michael answered the question with a surprised question.

      George: “We'll take turns. 50-50. Half the road you drive, the other half I drive.”

      Michael: “A-F-I-GET! How long are we going to be traveling for?”

      George: “About 600 kilometers. We have to deliver it to a powerful businessman in New Hampshire. It's his car. It broke down and he left it here for repairs. It's a legend, even if it is a bit old! We'll take the truck back. I've already caught the next order. We'll have to deliver it to Lockfood City. We'll hitch a ride home from there. But that's not far from here. Think of it as your first little real adventure.”

      Michael moved closer to the car to get a closer look at it, “Dad, thank you so much! I won't let you down! And Fred, will he be guarding us?”

      George: “There's no need for that. We'll manage on our own. And remember, this is just the beginning of your journey. It's only going to get more interesting from here. All right, let's go get some rest. We have a long road ahead of us tomorrow.”

      He put his arm around Mariana's waist. His parents went slowly into the house, talking about the day ahead, and Michael stayed near the car for a while, imagining in his head how he would drive it very soon.

      “Six-speed manual transmission, all-wheel drive, interactive dashboard, top speed can reach 360 km/h. It's a beast of a car! I can't even believe that tomorrow I will drive it!” – Michael thought to himself, stroking the car on the roof. He spent about thirty minutes near the car, looking at it from all sides, and then went to his room to rest. His head was full of thoughts about the day ahead.

      The first field practice

      The morning began with an alarm clock. He had to wake up early, because the car had to be delivered only up to a certain time, and it took about six, seven hours to get there. Even taking into account the capabilities of the car, George was an advocate of quiet driving and preferred to perform delivery to the destination extremely carefully, without leaving any visible damage on the object. Therefore, Michael did not have to count on high speed. On the highway – a maximum of 120 km / h, on the highway – 90, within the city – 50. Mariana fed the family with scrambled eggs and bacon and gave them some sandwiches for the road, putting them in plastic containers.

      George: “Don't forget to bring your learner's card with you so the police won't have any unnecessary questions: why are you at 14 already driving a car?”

      The point is that depending on the chosen direction, the child was granted certain privileges related to education. For example, Michael studied at a transportation school, so he had the right to drive cars and some trucks under the supervision of an adult from the age of 14. But this was possible only if he had a student card, confirming that he was a student of a specialized school. Others had to wait until they were 18 years old to complete a six-month course in driving a passenger car.

      – I already did. – Michael answered, waving his small black square wallet. All three of them went outside. Mariana wished them a good trip and stayed on the doorstep, waving goodbye every now and then. Michael joyfully headed for the driver's door of the car.

      – Sit in the passenger seat. First I'll take control of the car, to see what this little girl is capable of. We'll switch on the road, don't worry. – George stopped him, slightly holding his son's hand. Michael wasn't upset. He was happy just to sit in the cabin of such a car. George started the car and drove off in the desired direction.

      Michael took out of his bag a small rectangular device that displayed a map and route. It had a small number of buttons on the end and on the sides. The boy knew how to use this device, since he had already been trained on it. The device was called “Logist” and was one of the key tools for drivers. In addition to the navigator function, which was lined up with the Logistician, which tracked in real time the movement of the target, the device acted as an “SOS” depending on the command, sending a distress signal along with the current location to the nearest workshops, ambulance or police patrols.

      George had an earpiece with a built-in microphone attached to his ear, connected wirelessly to both the Logiste and the phone. The driver could use it to talk to customers and his staff. Occasionally, Mariana would call the same way, to see how her husband was doing at work. The route was routed through several villages and towns with bronze and silver status. The terminus was New Hampshire. It was a platinum status town. Michael had never been to towns with status higher than silver, so this was quite the journey for him. Not only would he get to see new small towns, but he would also get to visit a giant metropolis.

      Villages and towns were connected by roads with nothing living around them. Either desert or impassable thickets of bushes and trees. The reason for this was clear – ownerless territory that no one had ever taken care of. According to such rules, the borders of settlements were divided, leaving neutral, ownerless territories between them. It was in these ownerless areas that the outcasts, unwanted and despised by society, existed. Some of them banded together to try to survive, occasionally raiding passing traffic or attempting to storm towns. True, they usually didn't pose much of a threat. After all, before they were driven out of town, all their possessions were taken from them. So they didn't have any weapons. The most they could attack with was fists, stones, or sticks they had gotten on the road. And considering the fact that cargo and transportation were most often guarded by well-armed mercenaries or private guards, the outcasts had no chance of success. It was more like certain death.

      George drove up to the checkpoint at the exit from Ounvilshen and joined the smallest queue. Since no documents had to be stamped, but only personal cards scanned by a special bar code, the line moved quickly enough. Only heavy trucks were subjected to special inspection for the presence of prohibited goods on board, but a separate lane was allocated for them so as not to impede the movement of other traffic.

      Finally it was Michael and George's turn. They stopped in front of the inspector's window. It was on the right side of the car. In front of the checkpoint was a barrier and a license plate scanner built into it, which recorded the license plate number, and a computer program extracted all the other data on the car and its owner. In the booth sat a city policeman with a laptop computer at his desk. He was dressed in a long-sleeved service uniform in the color of the city's yellow and purple flag. Underneath his police uniform was a bulletproof vest in the form of thermal underwear. Such body armor was very lightweight and was considered the most common protection for city police officers because it covered most

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