Chapter 17.2.

 The "Mexican's" phone rang. When he answered the call, his face changed, replacing the relaxed expression with a concentrated one, then he seemed to check the machine gun lying on his knees with his hand to see if it was there or not, and in less than a minute he ended the call.

 "They'll be down soon," he said with the same expression on his face, the one that was relaxed.

 Five minutes later, a group of reporters and security officers went down to the lobby. All this nonsense with greetings and announcements of who was who and what was their name began. Whose name Dragovich remembered right away was Lisette - that was the name of the young TV girl, either an assistant or an intern of this old Englishman.

 Zaperdyaev was a tall, strong man in a jacket under his coat and a tie that was disgusting by local standards.

 Madame Landskreit looked quite attractive for a German or Danish woman - Dragovich had initially imagined a slightly different image. She also pretended with her facial expression that she was interested in what was happening and what was to come, as if everyone had gathered for some exciting tour. In Dragovich's opinion, such acting efforts were unnecessary, although what did he care. She also had long, straight black hair, and all these northern "Aryan" types had to have light hair, of course. In general, Dragovich, who had settled in a little, could quite definitely determine from just one look at her that she was not a local. True, this did not require great talent.

 Everyone moved toward the glass doors, behind which a dazzling winter day shone. When the group was already outside, in full force, descending the wide stairs of the porch, somewhere above there was a bang, so loud that you could clearly hear how the glass and metal frames of the shopping center shook. The reporters began to look around in fear and reach for their phones, Lisette jerked and squealed. Madame Landskricht showed composure, instinctively pulling her head into her shoulders. Dragovich immediately looked for the nearest signal mast.

 - Everything is fine, these are ours! - the voice of the "Mexican" was heard.

 Meanwhile, Madame Landskricht began to explain to the visitors what the white flashing signal meant.

Dragovich began to look for the source of this commotion. Then there was another bang. By this time, he had already managed to make out two white stripes cutting through the sky and heading south.

 - Another one is coming now! - the "Mexican" almost shouted, first in Russian, and then, with some difficulty, choosing the words in English. Dragovich looked at the sky, or rather looked at the two tracks, from their tips to the tails fluffing up at the horizon, and saw a third one cutting through the morning winter blue in pursuit of the two threads. Two more were following behind it.

 He did not immediately realize what it was, but it quickly became clear that these were aircraft, not missiles.

 Air defense missiles do not fly in straight trajectories, like airliners - they constantly, albeit smoothly, adjust the direction of their flight, following the calculated point of meeting with the target.

 Surface-to-surface missiles, if they were launched from these places, would now be flying at such altitudes that there would be neither a shock wave nor a visible trace. Fifty kilometers, or even higher. Why break through the dense atmosphere when you can do this. The same applies to the anti-missile defense missiles that flew in from somewhere far away. The launches from the nearby missile defense terminals looked completely different and the sound was completely different there. In addition, these launches were always signaled by the warning system.

 In this case, for some reason, five fairly large aircraft were rushing south - this was not enough for some serious attack.

 - Such things have never flown here before - said the "Mexican", peering into the trail of the whitish trails rushing away.

 - Such things have happened here, - Landskricht suddenly objected, - A few months ago, similar ones flew, only not here, but to the north, over the right-bank territories. I remember. Unusual aircraft. Such things do not fly every day. Only they did not fly in such a group, but with intervals.

 - Stupid woman, - thought Dragovich, - "similar", as you said, fly here all the time. Attack aircraft at least. And this is some kind of raid. Several people from the group, including Lisette, by this time were no longer listening to anyone but were wandering towards the lonely cars - Dragovich's Dodge and the Mexican's minibus - there were no other cars in the parking lot.