Rimanoa

For a drink

August 21, 21:47 PM.

My son fainted for over six hours. One day is not enough, but what if it happens every day? And I was constantly "killed" by the fact that in addition to fainting, he had terrible headaches and black eyes.

"How long was I asleep?" — he asked, opening his eyelids. "Six to seven hours."

"Yeah…"

"Well, anyway…"

"I saw a doctor recently… He said I have six months to live at the most…"

"Six months? — The phrase made me even more eager to find out if the cure would work — not much risk to take anyway. — Uh… Anyway, here's the cure." "Bring him in, please."

By this time the syringe was already prepared and I easily injected, "Well, does it feel better?"

"Not a damn thing…"

"Well, that's right… Not all at once…" we laughed heartily at the same time. — I haven't laughed in a long time.

"Likewise… and to be honest, I'm absolutely sick of living like a junkie: I remember here, I don't remember there."

"And for me, looking around at all the morons and sadists with big eyes popping out of their orbits from fear or cruelty."

"By the way, do you know who has the biggest eyes in the world?" "Well… Uh… No, I don't know…"

"At Fear."

"А. I see. Good riddle."

"And what makes you suddenly decide to get out of the organization?" "Tired of it."

"Yeah, come on, you were sick of this life 15 years ago." "What makes you say that?"

"Well, that I haven't seen you: you walk around like a haggard and you don't even know who to look at with what eyes anymore."

"Actually, you're right."

"I honestly don't know how you can run around like an eagle with a job like that and at the age of 47…"

"Here I don't know… Yeah… How do you exercise all sorts of arts around here?" "Well, you know I'm a worse shot than you…"

"Well, how much do you knock out from 50 meters with a pistol in 10 shots?"

"Usually three or four in the bullseye, the rest wherever you have to go… You know I'm more into grenades and a sea of bullets…"

"A sea of bullets, either for intimidation or to show off… Well, okay, how far do you throw your damn grenade?"

"F-1 at 60 meters, RGD-5 at 80."

"Yeah, that's a record. I should be able to throw thirty. I'm getting old…"

"For a job like this, yes, but in general, I've told you before that even 50-plus is still maturity, but 70 is the time limit."

"Had you said those last words in front of my 'coworkers', everyone would be on the floor laughing by now."

"If I saw your coleagues, they'd be lying on the floor from death by now…" "And you're with them."

"Yeah, I don't care."

"Well, okay, what else do you do?"

"Studying survival techniques in extreme environments. Equatorial forests, for example, desert…"

"Good for you… How many languages do you know?" "It's four now."

"Not bad… Which one did you learn last (I already knew the other three: English, German, Italian)?"

"Russian".

"Ohhhh! Well, let's do it in it," I suggested in one of the world's most difficult languages.

"Come on," — replied the son similarly.

"Learn Spanish and you can consider Latin America open to you…" "Why didn't you learn it yourself then?"

"No time left… Are you interested in fiction?" "Almost not."

"Have you read Faust?"

The room erupted into rolling laughter again.

"What's there to read? I've seen him live… By the way, why do you have such a strange nickname?"

"It's long to explain…" "And yet?"

"Yes, I almost forgot… — I took out a small envelope from the inside pocket of my jacket (I wore it this time, too). — This is so important and secret information that in skillful hands it can destroy Koza-Nostra as well…"

"What's in it for me?"

"This is just in case I get killed… Inside the envelope contains instructions on what to do and a disk of information… If I get killed open the envelope and follow the instructions, not before…"

"Okay. I'll do it, but it's still a matter of which one of us dies first." There was laughter in the room, but now not as expressive and sincere.

"Yeah… Also, I've been wondering. How do you manage to cross borders like they don't even exist?"

"That along with some other useful stuff is on the disk… Well, okay I'm off. It's getting late… I'll call you tomorrow."

"Suit yourself."