– What's up? Let's go," said Alexander Ivanovich.

– I didn't expect this. Where have we gotten to, Alexander Ivanovich?

– I already told you. Right in the center.

– And what is this center?

– Follow me. I'm an old man and my feet hurt, so don't ask too many questions.

Alexander Ivanovich was in his 85th year, he was a bit heavy, so it was hard for him. They walked to the end of the room. No one paid any attention to them, although there was no one to do so – the chairs behind the computers were empty.

They came to the door of the office, on which hung a sign with the inscription: NGTSOI. Alexander Ivanovich knocked and did not wait for an answer. They went into the room. There sat a vivacious grandfather in his sixties.

– Good afternoon, Yuri Vasilyevich!" Alexander Ivanovich greeted him.

– Oh-oh, what people! Good afternoon, Alexander Ivanovich! I've been waiting for you, waiting for you," he said, coming up to him, and they embraced, shaking hands firmly. – Sit down.

On the wall of the office was a huge panel on which cells showed images from surveillance cameras, including the entire path that Rutra and Alexander Ivanovich had traveled, several guard posts with similar screens, and a wide variety of surface views, from offices and building facades to areas of forest, tundra, and space.

– Here, meet him," said Alexander Ivanovich and pointed at Rutra. – Rutra Tigrovich Paskhov, that's him.

Yuri Vasilyevich smiled, looked intently at Rutra and said:

– What, was it illegal?

– I was," Ruthra replied.

– Under what last name? Or did you like that one and decided to keep it? Same first name, middle name?

Ruthra was silent. He had learned a lot over the years, namely that the system he was in was not what ordinary citizens thought of it, nor what they thought of the intelligence services. He was in a system where you had to hide the truth even from yourself. Sometimes he was so into the role that it seemed to him that he was the man whose legend he wore. Yuri Vasilyevich was still a stranger to him. Besides, this whole incident could have been another test.

Ruthra made a surprised face as if he didn't know what he was talking about.

– I realize you're keeping your mouth shut for security reasons. I realize it's the name that doesn't match, I've got an eye for it. It's clear that it doesn't match your origins. But why take a middle name like that? – Yuri Vasilyevich either inquired or questioned.

Rutra was surprised.

– That's the first time I've ever heard that.

– I see, school. The fact that you're here says a lot, but I'm afraid to disappoint you. You think you're gonna do here what you did there?

– Clearly not.

– That task is no less important now.

– What did I do before? – Ruthra asked bravely, though he was afraid in his heart.

It was the same as saying that Yuri Vasilyevich was not in command of the situation. Yuri Vasilyevich had the rank of colonel, which was clear from the photograph hanging on the wall. On it he was standing in an embrace with the president, which spoke of his high status. Alexander Ivanovich defused the situation:

– Why don't we have tea, Yuri Vasilyevich? He's a little "stuck"… I'll tell you all about it later.

Yuri Vasilyevich stood up, opened the safe, disguised by a photograph, and took out a bottle of cognac with Churchill's picture on it. "To drink tea" in the circle of especially gifted specialists meant to drink something stronger.

In another photo, Yuri Vasilyevich was young. He was sitting at a table in the company of border guards. Rutra's experienced eye noticed that they were photographed against the background of a map of Transcaucasia.

Yuri Vasilyevich took out a plate of sliced sausage and pickles, olives, and several bottles of Silver Key mineral water from the refrigerator.

– What you like," he said and showed the bottles to Alexander Ivanovich.

– Was it a present from him? – Alexander Ivanovich asked.

– From himself!

Rutra did not understand who they meant, but judging by their meaningful look, the cognac was given either by Churchill himself or by the man in the photo. Yuri Vasilyevich uncorked the bottle, poured it into crystal shot glasses, raised his own and said:

– Well, just our way.

They clinked glasses and drank. "Cleanly our way" meant that they drank cognac like vodka – no one was going to be ceremonious with the glasses.

They talked about the various operations they had participated in, but Rutra knew only the name of the places and the names of foreign and domestic officials. He was knowledgeable enough to keep up a conversation, which was what the older generation liked. A lot of things were new to him, though.

After the third Alexander Ivanovich said with a smile that he had had enough and that now Rutra would drink for him. Rutra didn't know what secret meaning he put into these words, but he realized that the old man obviously didn't mean the feast.

Yuri Vasilyevich held out the bottle and said:

– Come on, dose up! One more and I'll tell you about your new role.

After thinking for a bit, Ruthra said:

– It's hard for me to know whether to accept or refuse. After all, I have been invited to serve.

He had been through so many different tests so many times that he had developed a reflex, and so he decided to act openly.

– I realize that you've been abroad for a long time. I can't forget myself when I was in that situation, but remember: if a man doesn't drink even a shot, he's either an alcoholic or a traitor," Yuri smirked. – So take your pick.

Rutra liked brandy. He raised his shot glass.

After "tea" Yuri Vasilyevich invited them to the hall. On the way, Alexander Ivanovich said to Rutra:

– I helped you because I have plans for you.

He said this very sadly; it was obvious that he was having a hard time. Judging by the fact that Alexander Ivanovich was already quite old, Rutra realized that he would need some help.

– Goodbye, I'll go," said Alexander Ivanovich.

They shook hands, hugged Yuri Vasilyevich, and he went to the door, but not the one they had entered. Rutra watched him until Yuri Vasilyevich called out to him:

– Rutra Tigrovich, since we have met, I will explain one rule adopted in the center: the head of the center can address his subordinates as "you". The staff – only "you". Among ourselves – as the relationship develops. We have to get used to the servant attitude, so as not to give ourselves away among civilians. Although we're supposed to be a civilian service, just like the CIA. I hope you know what I mean.

– It's clear," Ruthra replied calmly.

– Come on then, I'll show your post.

He took him to the upper tier, where there was one office, all glass, from which the entire hall was visible. It was higher than the hall, and from there everyone could be monitored. Ruthra noticed that the sparse screens were showing some sort of images. Mostly they had similar diagrams on them. Ruthra took a closer look. Most of the computers in the room did indeed have diagrams on them. There were a few similar screens in his office, with diagrams on them as well.

– What is it? – Ruthra asked.

– What's the point of the world right now, you know? The world is not the same anymore, and you know very well that nobody wants to kill anybody. Everybody wants peace, everybody wants to be rich, enjoy life. Everyone has realized that there is no point in bombing and destroying each other, because, firstly, it will be worse for yourself, secondly, there is no guarantee that you will destroy someone, and you will remain intact, and thirdly, no one wants to take risks. Even if there's solid intel. Fourth, even if you destroy someone, you destroy a potential client. Everyone wants to do business, go out, get drunk, enjoy life, so now the war is here! – And he poked at the monitor.