Government quarter. Pilot
Warning : this text has no political background. At all.
The morning was beautiful - warm, dry, albeit with notes of night freshness. On the streets there are only rare passers-by hurrying to work, but cheerful companies of youth returning from night clubs.
Gene envied them a little. For the next year, he, most likely, was left without such entertainment. He managed to get under the spring draft at the age of twenty-five, when he had already managed to acquire a family, decent work, and a mortgage. The idea of a monthly payment, which expires in a few days, made Gena breathe heavily and forget about the beautiful summer morning.
Okay, damn it. Anyway, Gene was lucky - he got into the service in the internal troops, in his native city, and even on preferential terms - it turned out that programmers are valued everywhere. We can say it was just such a job: you come home in the morning, go home in the evening, and the weekend is free. Only pay ... Do not pay, in a word.
Gene had been at the bus stop for about fifteen minutes, and there was still no tram. From nothing to do began to look at the neighborhood. The stop was located in the middle of the road, at the intersection. On the one hand, there was the government house - a tall, powerful building, still of Soviet construction, enclosed by a tall fence of black forged rods with golden tips. On the other - a small park, with monuments and fountains.
To the intersection, from the side of the government house, an orange fuel tank truck pulled up and blocked the view. Gene had already thought to turn to the park, but suddenly stopped - a large car suddenly began to move in reverse. A thought flashed that the driver simply forgot to raise the handbrake lever, but the road in this place was going downhill.
Gene stood like spellbound - what was happening was like a movie in slow motion. The fuel truck is slow at first, then it moves back faster and faster. Behind him, at a very respectful distance, stood a large black SUV with government numbers. There was a deafening sound of the horn, but the gasoline truck did not react at all, only increased the speed of movement.
The driver of the SUV managed to react, turned on the rear speed and abruptly jerked off, but it was already too late - the fuel truck with a loud crash crushed the hood of an expensive car and stopped. The airbags worked, a trickle of steam leaped from the radiator, the front left wheel tilted unnaturally.
The door of the SUV opened, a stunned guy, about thirty years old, in a black suit fell out of it. He raised his hand, rubbed the short brush on his head with his hand, looking at the damage. The frightened expression on his face very quickly changed to an evil grimace - the guy glanced at the fuel truck and rushed to the cabin, shouting curses and promises to drown the culprit in his own gasoline.
A numbness subsided from Gena, he slightly shook his head and was not afraid of a joke - I did not know what to do. Formally, he is a policeman, has certain powers, although he has no idea how to use them, because his service lasts only a week. In addition, government SUV numbers seemed to say that police intervention would not be required. Eh, the unfortunate managed to enter the government car, with government numbers, in front of the government building in the government quarter ...
Gene even became a little sorry for the unfortunate. Now shaved will pull him out on the road, break in from the heart, humiliate him. Maybe the camera phone to take off? Or not worth it, and you yourself will get under the distribution?
Suddenly, the fuel truck began to move. He rushed from his place so that the shaved SUV driver stumbled from surprise and fell on the road. Having passed a couple of meters, the fuel truck turned sharply to the right, climbed easily onto the sidewalk, demolished the fence section and drove onto the porch of the government house.
The wooden entrance door fell out with a crash, but the gasoline truck hit the concrete pillar with a bumper and stopped. Immediately, there was a sharp sound of shifting gears, and the orange car drove off the porch in reverse, demolished another section of the fence and stopped at the edge of the road, on the sidewalk.
A second later, the fuel truck again rushed to the government house. He took off on the porch, with a swing hit the same column, but she again resisted. The cabin door opened, and a plump little man jumped onto a marble tile, wearing a leather cap, a bright orange vest over a black T-shirt and with a very evil facial expression. He glanced at the concrete column, and with a quick step moved to the tank of his gasoline tank truck.
Gene was in a daze, as if he had a terrible dream and could not move. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the shaven guy was lying on the sidewalk, slightly lifting his head and watching what was happening. The face is visible Gena did not see.
The driver of the fuel truck quickly and very skillfully opened the tank drain valve. After a few seconds, a powerful jet of fuel began to spill over the porch, making a real waterfall. A puddle of gasoline instantly spread in front of the government house, leaked under the fence, flooded the sidewalk and rolled onto the road. And the driver continued to stand at the cistern and, frowning, watched as if he was waiting for something.
The instinct of self-preservation first woke up with a shaven guy - he jumped to his feet and, before he could even straighten himself, ran, stumbling, to the opposite sidewalk. Then it came to Gena - after a few seconds the puddle would reach the tram stop, and he rushed to the sidewalk in a hurry. Shaved already ran through the park, but Gena, not knowing why, stopped and turned around.
The driver of the fuel truck quickly slapped his pockets, as if he was looking for something, and finally pulled out a lighter. He struck once, another one - there was no flame, only sparks flew out. The third time it happened - the fire broke out. The man looked at him for a couple of seconds, smiled, brought the flame to his orange vest and instantly flared.
A second later, the porch flared, then a puddle, a sidewalk, a road, a fuel tanker. The street was quickly clouded with clouds of suffocating black smoke. Unable to resist, Gena backed away to the park, stumbled over a flower bed, fell, quickly got up and rushed off at full speed.
There was a deafening explosion from behind.
The morning was beautiful - warm, dry, albeit with notes of night freshness. On the streets there are only rare passers-by hurrying to work, but cheerful companies of youth returning from night clubs.
Gene envied them a little. For the next year, he, most likely, was left without such entertainment. He managed to get under the spring draft at the age of twenty-five, when he had already managed to acquire a family, decent work, and a mortgage. The idea of a monthly payment, which expires in a few days, made Gena breathe heavily and forget about the beautiful summer morning.
Okay, damn it. Anyway, Gene was lucky - he got into the service in the internal troops, in his native city, and even on preferential terms - it turned out that programmers are valued everywhere. We can say it was just such a job: you come home in the morning, go home in the evening, and the weekend is free. Only pay ... Do not pay, in a word.
Gene had been at the bus stop for about fifteen minutes, and there was still no tram. From nothing to do began to look at the neighborhood. The stop was located in the middle of the road, at the intersection. On the one hand, there was the government house - a tall, powerful building, still of Soviet construction, enclosed by a tall fence of black forged rods with golden tips. On the other - a small park, with monuments and fountains.
To the intersection, from the side of the government house, an orange fuel tank truck pulled up and blocked the view. Gene had already thought to turn to the park, but suddenly stopped - a large car suddenly began to move in reverse. A thought flashed that the driver simply forgot to raise the handbrake lever, but the road in this place was going downhill.
Gene stood like spellbound - what was happening was like a movie in slow motion. The fuel truck is slow at first, then it moves back faster and faster. Behind him, at a very respectful distance, stood a large black SUV with government numbers. There was a deafening sound of the horn, but the gasoline truck did not react at all, only increased the speed of movement.
The driver of the SUV managed to react, turned on the rear speed and abruptly jerked off, but it was already too late - the fuel truck with a loud crash crushed the hood of an expensive car and stopped. The airbags worked, a trickle of steam leaped from the radiator, the front left wheel tilted unnaturally.
The door of the SUV opened, a stunned guy, about thirty years old, in a black suit fell out of it. He raised his hand, rubbed the short brush on his head with his hand, looking at the damage. The frightened expression on his face very quickly changed to an evil grimace - the guy glanced at the fuel truck and rushed to the cabin, shouting curses and promises to drown the culprit in his own gasoline.
A numbness subsided from Gena, he slightly shook his head and was not afraid of a joke - I did not know what to do. Formally, he is a policeman, has certain powers, although he has no idea how to use them, because his service lasts only a week. In addition, government SUV numbers seemed to say that police intervention would not be required. Eh, the unfortunate managed to enter the government car, with government numbers, in front of the government building in the government quarter ...
Gene even became a little sorry for the unfortunate. Now shaved will pull him out on the road, break in from the heart, humiliate him. Maybe the camera phone to take off? Or not worth it, and you yourself will get under the distribution?
Suddenly, the fuel truck began to move. He rushed from his place so that the shaved SUV driver stumbled from surprise and fell on the road. Having passed a couple of meters, the fuel truck turned sharply to the right, climbed easily onto the sidewalk, demolished the fence section and drove onto the porch of the government house.
The wooden entrance door fell out with a crash, but the gasoline truck hit the concrete pillar with a bumper and stopped. Immediately, there was a sharp sound of shifting gears, and the orange car drove off the porch in reverse, demolished another section of the fence and stopped at the edge of the road, on the sidewalk.
A second later, the fuel truck again rushed to the government house. He took off on the porch, with a swing hit the same column, but she again resisted. The cabin door opened, and a plump little man jumped onto a marble tile, wearing a leather cap, a bright orange vest over a black T-shirt and with a very evil facial expression. He glanced at the concrete column, and with a quick step moved to the tank of his gasoline tank truck.
Gene was in a daze, as if he had a terrible dream and could not move. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the shaven guy was lying on the sidewalk, slightly lifting his head and watching what was happening. The face is visible Gena did not see.
The driver of the fuel truck quickly and very skillfully opened the tank drain valve. After a few seconds, a powerful jet of fuel began to spill over the porch, making a real waterfall. A puddle of gasoline instantly spread in front of the government house, leaked under the fence, flooded the sidewalk and rolled onto the road. And the driver continued to stand at the cistern and, frowning, watched as if he was waiting for something.
The instinct of self-preservation first woke up with a shaven guy - he jumped to his feet and, before he could even straighten himself, ran, stumbling, to the opposite sidewalk. Then it came to Gena - after a few seconds the puddle would reach the tram stop, and he rushed to the sidewalk in a hurry. Shaved already ran through the park, but Gena, not knowing why, stopped and turned around.
The driver of the fuel truck quickly slapped his pockets, as if he was looking for something, and finally pulled out a lighter. He struck once, another one - there was no flame, only sparks flew out. The third time it happened - the fire broke out. The man looked at him for a couple of seconds, smiled, brought the flame to his orange vest and instantly flared.
A second later, the porch flared, then a puddle, a sidewalk, a road, a fuel tanker. The street was quickly clouded with clouds of suffocating black smoke. Unable to resist, Gena backed away to the park, stumbled over a flower bed, fell, quickly got up and rushed off at full speed.
There was a deafening explosion from behind.
Source: https://habr.com/ru/post/438224/