One shot decided to spit a crude GPS iron from the bus, sell it and drink the money. Waited for the final, stretched out his hand, pulled out the device (he was on a bilateral scotch) and dropped somewhere in the courtyard. The trick is that the cradle was not a navigator, but a piece of a control system. On the autonomous power, the railway properly painted all the movements on the dispatcher’s map... The coins, according to the instructions from the dispatcher’s, stretched for 15 minutes and took the frame on the hot.