Rimanoa

The road home

Aug. 21, 8:03 a.m.

Every killer, even the worst one, has a home (professionals have several: one main home and several reserve homes). So my home was in Berlin. The keys to the apartment were buried at the entrance. Good thing that I had enough money to get to Germany (I had 100 dollars and 100 euros in cash + a MasterCard credit card with my 500 euros).

My apartment is something between a Batman cave and the laboratory of a weapons- crazed designer. The stuffing of the apartment is so expensive that it more than took up my two "fees" of 250,000 euros. What only there was not: from pistol "TK" (Tula Korovin; old Russian pistol caliber 6.35) to RPG-29 "Vampire" (the best Russian grenade launcher caliber 105.2 millimeters), from "Pentium 4" to a portable computer "Omni book 6000" and, of course, several copies of floppy disks containing such information that even the Goat-Nostra will not be sweet. But in the meantime, I have one very important thing to complete, so I logged on to the Internet and contacted a very important person: "This is Faust".

"I figured out what you asked."

{ "info".

The data I've been looking for for five whole years now came across my monitor. "Are the terms agreed upon?"

"Yes, fifty million dollars."

"Thank you, now we're even," — the connection stopped.