all the allowed heights, and something else.”
“Why such a rush?”
“I need to save Bill. He was captured by terrorists and require a geological map with all cross sections under the Royal Palace to depth of eight kilometers.”
“Is this not Bill Umbarle, chief geologist at British Geology?”
“Yes, he is. You are erudite.”
“Turn on autopilot, Eugene. Fasten seat belt.”
“All right, Alice, stay in touch,” – Kmykh said and fastened his four-point seat belt. The Renault-Dandy capsule smoothly rose to the allowed height and accelerated towards Liverpool.
“Alice,” – said Kmykh, – “now put the two combat guard drones to Impolite Reznik, the Company's deputy chief geologist, and tell him that he is forbidden to go to work the next two days. Mandatory home mode for two days.”
“Hockey, Eugene, I’ll send an employee with two drones to London now. Anything else?”
“In the area of 300 miles from London we need to find the coordinates of the houseboat. I know that this is not a new house, model R-118. There is now Bill Umbarle with his wife and five terrorists. That's all for now” – said Kmykh and pulled out of the glove box without an excise cigarette, which he bought from a huckster on the pier. Renault – Dandy was not a speed capsule and Kmykh had enough time to smoke a cigarette before arriving in Liverpool.
Spanish guitar
At 11 a.m. Kmykh was already fully prepared for the operation, as he believed. Lounging in the chair of the Maserati capsule, he was waiting for a call from Bill. In the cabin there was one battle drone and two drones were in the luggage compartment. At 11:05 a bell rang.
“Hello, Bill.”
“Yes! Hello Ippolite! How are you? Got the files?”
“Yes, it's 736 yottabytes on a flash drive. Bring to yours apartment?”
“No, I sent my courier. Go down to the Fidel Metro station, at the Savmak station, near the statue of Savmak wait for him. He will recognize you if you are in our Company’s baseball cap.”
“Okay boss. In about 10 minutes I will be at the station.”
Kmykh flew up on Savmak Square and down into the Sobyaner and Sons parking lot.
“Sir,” the parking attendant said, “you have to get out of the cab.”
“I won’t have to,” said Kmykh and put his right hand ring against the parking scanner. An image of the royal coat of arms appeared on the scanner.
“Sorry, sir,” the parking man said.
“Your ID?”
“Sir, write down, I'll say.”
“I'll remember,” said Kmykh and listened to the twenty-digit parking attendant number.
“Lower me to the level of Savmak Metro station. I will get off the subway. I will be there for a while. Then I will return and let you know that you will raise me to the surface in a capsule.”
“By all means, sir,” – said the parking attendant and turned on the carousel.
Kmykh left the parking lot at the Metro level, walked along a short corridor, leaned the FSB ring against the lock door and then went to Savmak station. Near the statue of Savmak Kmykh looked at passers-by and at people waiting capsule vehicles of Metro. While he waiting, a street musician came up to him with a guitar and asked for some money for food. Kmykh put two Britcoins in his empty tin jar of beans. On the musician’s head was a sombrero and a traditional Mexican poncho hung from his shoulders.
“Now put the flash drive here,” the musician said with a confident voice, “then you will go to the platform and sit in any first capsule.”
The musician raised the poncho and put his right hand on the handle of the ultrasound induction bullet generator of the UZI model. His left hand was still outstretched with empty tin jar of natural beans.
Scotland Yard police quickly responded to Kmykh’s actions, and a minute later a few meters above his head Kmykh heard the words of a police officer.
“Don't move! Put your hands on your head!” – ordered the police officer.
Kmykh raised his hands and head. It was a woman officer and in her hands was a Kuznetsov’s tube. She hung in the air at a height of three meters. She was wearing jet boots and a Gauss protective vest absorbing induction bullets.
“FSB officer,” – said Kmykh, – “certificate is in my ring.”
“Lean the ring to scanner,” – said the police officer and threw a plastic scanner card under Kmykh’s feet.
Kmykh leaned the ring to scanner, and a hologram with a royal coat of arms appeared in front of the officer. There was no name and identification number, which meant that any police officer was required to provide any assistance to this FSB officer. The woman put Kuznetsov’s tube in a holster, descended down on the stone floor of the station and offered hers help. On the floor was a man with a Mexican appearance and a broken arm in his elbow joint. Both of his legs and an unbroken right arm were pulled together by guitar strings. On the neck there was also a stranglehold of a guitar string. Nearby lay a broken-up guitar made of wood.
"Is he alive?" – She asked.
"Yes, he is unconscious. Painful shock. A stretcher is needed to take it to my capsule in the parking mine,” – Kmykh said.
The officer touched her bracelet and contacted her police department. “The Fidel Castro Metro, Savmak Station, requires a stretcher without an orderly near the statue of Savmak,” – she said.
“Estimated time of arrival about one minute and ten seconds,” – the department informed.
A minute later, the anti-gravity stretcher of the Red Cross municipal service arrived along the air corridor allocated to them along the ceiling of the station. The stretcher slowed down at the statue of Savmak, and sank near the officer’s feet. Kmykh put the terrorist body on the stretcher, took them by the control handle and raised them to the level of the belt, convenient for transportation.
“Thanks for the help, officer. Have a nice day,” – Kmykh said, and set off transporting the stretcher toward the locking door along the corridor to the parking shaft. These were standard stretchers with a control handle and a return button to the medical base. Having thrown the body of the terrorist into the luggage boot of the capsule, Kmykh sent a stretcher to the base of the Red Cross and dialed the number of the parcing attendant. While the Maserati capsule was rising through the shaft of the carousel, Kmykh appeal to Alice.
“Hi, Alisa.”
“Hello, hello, Eugene.”
“I have terrorist in the luggage boot. Prepare medical preparations for interrogation. I'll be in Liverpool in twenty minutes.”
“Okay, Eugene. We have some bad news. Ippolite Reznik is kidnapped. Our employee, who took Reznik under protection, is killed, and two security drones are destroyed. External surveillance cameras show that he voluntarily siting in UAZ capsule. This morning he was in the
