I, a young geologist, have to deliver a lot of expeditional equipment and other cargo from Moscow to Peter. The expedition departs to Yakutia from under Peter. Sending a transport campaign is uncomfortable and troublesome, so I decide to take the projectile on the car. At the time, I had a “egg on wheels” in my possession – the 1996 Toyota Town ICE, a Japanese minibus, and the licenses I obtained six months ago. Driving experience already exists, but has not yet adapted to all the surprises on the road. In order not to extend the way, I decided to leave early and pass through Moscow through the center, until there is no traffic jams, and not to drive around the MKAD.
So, the beginning of the 2000s, the beginning of June, about 4 o’clock in the morning, Moscow...
I live in the south of Moscow, so I went north to get to the beginning of Tver Street, and from it to the Leningrad Prospect and then straight to Peter. The beginning of Tverska - behind the Red Square, and from the south to it approaches the Great Moskvoretska Bridge (which begins at the Vasilyevsky descent and goes through the Moscow river to the Great Ordinka). Here I came from her... No cars, no people, the sun rises, I still want to sleep... The congregation from the bridge near the temple of Basil the Blessed is quite strange to my morning look, a bunch of concrete blocks and signs stand like a hit and try to explain everything with their configuration where you can and where you can not. I solve this task within my capabilities, I drive straight and turn to the right, falling on a street that is visually familiar to me, but the name of which I do not remember. The street is empty, cute, going almost where I need to. I’m not in a hurry, trying to figure out where I got and where it will take me. I drive it almost to the end and suddenly I get on the lighthouse, which is behind me for some reason, and behind it there are cars in a row, but for some reason in the entire width of the street - and everyone is looking at me! I stop in front of the lighthouse, trying to realize that it went wrong, as suddenly from behind the approaching rush of the sirens, two haitian cars approach me and block me, one in front of me, the other behind me. Of them, four beacons jump out (the beacon is still working, the cars are still standing and looking at me), take me on board, pull me out of my microwave, take my keys, lock the car, put it in the rear car, and the front with one driver-beacon remains next to mine. The car with me unfolds and under the syrene carries back to the Vasilyevsky descent in the direction of the Kremlin. At this time, the lighting switched and all the cars that stood behind it followed us. All this takes less than a minute and only near the Kremlin two things finally reach me: 1) the street I was driving on has unilateral traffic; 2) I was kidnapped by haishniki and my further fate is unpredictable.
The firefighters in the car pressed me on the rear seat on both sides, silent but looking with a strange mix of respect, regret and amazement. We fly with the syrene to the beginning of the bridge near the temple, there is another haishnikov car. I am placed in it on the passenger seat in front of it, the door is blocked and a fireplace stands next to it so that I do not escape. In front of the wheel is a huge man in shape, with the pursuit of a major. He is listening to something on the radio, turning to me and looking back with great surprise. and silence. I’m in a T-shirt, under two meters, cut, all wet (hot, though earlier in the morning).
Who are you and where did you come from? Do you have documents? He asks.
I give him the papers, I am a whisper.
Do you understand why you are sitting here?
I say that I begin to guess, but where I found it - I do not yet understand.
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll show you.
He drives the car, we move to the beginning of the bridge and he runs on my trajectory, simultaneously explaining to me where and what I broke. He explains everything calmly, insightfully, but in his voice there is still an unsolved surprise in front of the person to whom he tells all this. When we arrived at my car, he ended up saying:
Thus, your fourteenth violation: stopping in front of the light from its reverse on a street with unilateral movement. Is this your car? Show that you are lucky.
I say the keys are with your colleague. The remaining guard of my car, by the swing of his hand, opens the microwave. The major for a long time quietly looks from different sides to the closed under the curtain salon with blades, a generator, a bunch of bowls, boxes, etc. Then it silently unfolds, and together we return to the original position near the temple.
After stopping, he turns his whole body to me and asks:
Do you understand what I told you and what you did?
Now I understood...
- I repeat: in the heart of the capital, almost on the Red Square, in the eyes of three astonished crews of GAI cars and personally my eyes of a whole major, you violated the Rules 14 times, and was stopped only after the pursuit at the beginning of the street of Varvarka, on which unilateral movement (I, the hell of myself, so is the street called!). What do you think will be for you?
The early morning of June began to gradually turn in my eyes into dark evening dusk... On the question of the major, I had the only answer formulated on the machine:
- As far as I understand, in this situation you will not even bring me to the front spot, but you will shoot me right here, with all three crews? Can I at least stand face to east: the last time I look at the sun, and you will be more comfortable targeting?
The Major stumbled, staring at me, then nodded and said:
Don’t worry, we won’t miss you, everyone wants to focus on you.
The darkness in my eyes turned into a strange night.
Before we put you on the wall, tell me what kind of stuff you have in your car? Where to go after shooting?
I began to tell you that I was carrying an expedition cargo to Peter, there and there, myself from the MGU, a geologist...
Where did you plan to fly, what are you doing?
I understand that he wants me to calm down a little before I die and accept a proper compensation for the crying disorders without nerves.
I begin to tell you that we are working in the Eastern Arctic, studying eternal frost, underground ice, in the tundra, there mammots, rhinos, etc. As soon as I reached the mammoths, the major interrupted me:
and wait.
He got out of the car and his friends.
- So, everyone who is free - come here, open the right door and listen to what he says!
Then I spoke for an hour and a half about Yakutia’s frost, the mammoth fauna, the modern tundra and the ancient tundrostepe, our work in it, etc. I was asked questions!Not only the major, but also the haishniks. I answered and we disputed. about whether the mammoths themselves died or they were helped by an ancient man... The Haishniks listened with unmistakable interest, I almost forgot that this was a lecture before the shooting.
When all the questions were clarified, the Major said:
- Ivanov and Petrov (the surnames have changed, I don't remember them anymore), take him to the car and carry him to the beginning of Tverska, so that he won't go anywhere again!
In some of the offices:
What about my shooting?! to
While it is postponed! Your case is interesting, it will be more useful to you than in the form of food for worms! Don’t bother anymore, be careful. and luck!
I still don’t come to myself:
thank you!
While they carried me to the car, the firefighters said that the asteroid fell from somewhere on the back of the Earth to America: the major in their department heard a terrible monster and was not in vain put to control the road situation in the most responsible sections. And what happened to him today is unclear, because for my violations I was really shot. They accompanied me with a flashlight to the Belarusian station, put me on the exit highway and only after making sure that I went in the right direction, turned and went back.
I was driving and couldn’t believe what happened. I still respect the mammoths and their tundra associates for what they were, and that their fate still interests even the police chief. In autumn, I came several times to the Vasilyevsky descent, I wanted to give the major a mammoth tooth in memory of what he brought from field work, but I did not meet him. He did not name his name.
I have since tried not to violate the rules, and under the front glass I have a small puddle in the form of a mammoth brought from Yakutsk.