“Wow,” I breathed, “I will hint with my own that I must fight.”

- Fight it. What pinned.

- Scold you come. There in the last batch not shavings, and the husks of the seeds with bark. We "pressed" the first pack, and she ... well, you know ... I will not swear, but I really want to.

- No, I do not understand.

I took a sample plate out of my pocket and crumbled it over my urn with papers.

- Is it clear?

- And what to do?

- Added a little more tar, from the stocks of normal chips were mixed, but still, above the second grade did not work. I wrote 8, but there is this shit - 30-35 percent.

- Thank. This is a repair we celebrated. - Looking down, Maxim shook his head.

- Select the next batch personally, I need extra to at least somehow draw out the quality. Otherwise, by inertia, at first “lyuly” me, then “lyuly” to you, and then “lyuly” to you personally from me.

- Do not scare - scared.

- Yes, one more thing, our technologist saw?

- Porushin?

- Him. He asked: "have I not forgotten ...", and I have forgotten.

- Does he have a “bastard” or not?

- No, his birthday is in March, we went to the camp site for shish kebabs.

- What then?

- So I think.

- drove, ask? - Max suggested.

- Come on, only there, bosses on the territory climb.

- Let's get rid of it. - He said, pushing me into the "hellish" heat of the workshop.

This time we were lucky, the authorities evaporated, and we, unnoticed, got into the administrative building.

The elevator took us to the fourth floor.

- Where? - Moiseenko spread his hands, showing a long corridor diverging left and right.

- Four hundred and thirty. - I pulled it to the left, behind me.

He knocked on the door, opened it slightly, and stuck his head in the opening.

- Good day! And Dmitry Viktorovich can see?

Dimka, silently, got up and went to me.

- What do you want? He asked in a half-whisper, closing the door.

- Hello, Dmitry Viktorovich.

- Well? I have little time.

- What are you scaring people about what we forgot?

- Ah ... Well, you are stupid ... five years of our release. I sent SMS to you the day before yesterday.

- Ugh, you on bald spot. - Max, already reddened. - Andryukha, did you receive his SMS?

- No, it seems ... - I waved my hand, - Dim you, what time do you finish today?

- At five, actually, if I have time ...

- Do not rush - Max interrupted him - we are up to six. Drove alarmist. - He pulled my sleeve.

- At six at the entrance ... - already in our backs, Dima shouted.

When the elevator doors closed, the pug weighed me in a loose pendall.

****

At seventeen fifty two, I left the workshop, looked around and headed towards the forest exchange.

At that moment, from the other side, the stooping figure of Maxim appeared.

He waved his hand to me, they say, stand on the spot, and quickened his pace.

A minute later he clapped me on the shoulder, and, without slowing down, almost ran on. I rushed for him.

Going to the "turntable", he brought the card to the sensor, and he grunted irritably, blinking a red light bulb. And only then the passage opened.

From the far edge of the huge foyer, a strong, gray-haired peasant in the form of a security service headed in our direction. He waved his arms, shook his head, and muttered something displeased.

I looked at the clock above my head. So it is, the number fifty-nine was replaced by two zeroes just before my eyes.

- Hero Grigorich, well, Öpatyamatya ... Friday ... end of the week. - He shouted at the whole checkpoint, Max.

I put my badge to the scanner, and he rather “smoked” releasing me.

The three of us stood in the center of the lobby. The head of the plant’s security shift told Moska how bad he was. And he called the guard into a closet to draw up an act.

Dima came in from the street.

- What happened?

- Why, he could not resist. Previously jumped out. - Grigory Grigorievich said.

“Grigorich, how far have I gone before, for ten seconds?” Vaughn Andrew came out for me and normal ...

- I do not delay him.

“Okay, Max, let's go,” I said, unobtrusively showing the package.

- And, - Moiseenko, he waved his hand and walked to the door of the gatehouse.

Early He unlocked the door and went into the room, sat down at the table. I took a blank out of the folder and put it in front of me. And I, without losing time, sealed it to the table with a bottle of brandy.

He looked up at us.

- Hero Grigorich, can we agree?

- Butor, I suppose? He asked, narrowing one eye.

- God forbid, a changer from vacation brought. - Looking into his eyes, I said.

He drummed his fingers on the table.

- Go and pikny on the other side again. Free

We bullet flew out the door.

- Well, you and the operation gear ... from you glade, - I weighed a tasty pinchin to my friend.

- Let's go to...

- At the drunk corner? - Dimka asked.

- But there is no closer, - I stood up for Max, - or you are squeamish with hard workers, Mr. Technologist ...

- Yes, no, just not been there for a long time.

- Wineglass as wineglass.

Five minutes later we entered the still empty gloomy and dirty room of the "casting". One long rack stretched along the walls, and in the center were three round growth tables. All countertops were dirty, spattered with the remnants of bottled drinks.

- Three hundred, three lemonade and three butera with sausage.

Not a young woman, in a greasy apron grabbed a warm bottle from the shelf.

- Oh, not cold?

She silently put the bottle back in place, opened the refrigerator, took out another one, measured out three plastic glasses of vodka. Also, silently, filled three more lemonade. And put on a napkin next to three sandwiches with smoked sausage. I clicked on the keys of the calculator and only then said:

- From you number;% rubles.

I picked up the vodka from the stand, and went to the cleanest, in my opinion, table. Dima followed my example, holding lemonade in his hands. Max joined us in a minute.

- Let's go.

- Go. - Goofy.

Even being cold, vodka was nasty and tough. I immediately drank all the lemonade, bit off a piece of sandwich, chewed it.

- What's next? - Max asked a rhetorical question.

- In general - so, the day before yesterday, Ilya Latukhin called, said that everyone gathers tomorrow at one o'clock at the uni's main building.

- What else did you say? - I was interested.

- He said - to come, we'll find out everything.

- OK, and if I have a shift?

- And who - fuck someone else's grief?

- Wisely ... - Max grunted. - I sent my friends to my mother-in-law.

- What are you doing?

- And let's forget.

- And what? Normal idea - supported him - Dimos.

- Not! We will forget tomorrow ... - I interfered in the conversation, - And today I propose to warm up properly.

- I support one hundred percent. - Said our technologist.

- So, go to the store, meet in twenty minutes here. Be sure to buy marinated meat on the kebab. For the rest I do not limit.

- BUT...

- Then, all later.

I left the “eatery” and headed towards the checkpoint. Pulling the phone out of your pocket.

- Slavik, help me out. I have a big black bag behind the locker with clothes, there is a brazier and coals.

- Okay, wait.

For about ten minutes, I chatted with the head of security, Georgy Grigorievich Bortko. Which, the head of the Security Council of the concern, Potapov, who has problems with diction after a concussion, called "Hero Heroic." So attached nickname.

He showed the contents of the package to the peace officer, went back.

My comrades were already waiting for me, frozen in picture poses.

- And ... where have you been?

- There, - I smiled, rattling the brazier in a plastic bag. - To the shore?

In response, Dimka shook his package, in which the weighty glass rang.

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