"He is rabid," answered Lame, "it is impossible to talk with him. He must be just beaten."
"Indeed? You've already beaten him, I see," Sledgehammer smirked, "and what's the name of store?"
"Everything for fishing and hunting," Lame replied.
Sledgehammer pulled a new Glock 17 out of his pocket, took out the store and stared stupidly at the cartridges.
"Call out Fix," said Sledgehammer, "I do not want to kill anyone, we'll go parrot the boy."
At the same time, Sledgehammer returned the magazine to the clip and hid the gun in the inside pocket of the jacket.
After half an hour a tinted jeep with three daredevils rolled along the embankment of the Volga River, making a couple of turns, and stopped sharply near the new store "Everything for fishing and hunting". At the entrance to the store the group stopped – Sledgehammer was interested in a sign near the door.
"Literacy for that is – to read signboard very ease," said Sledgehammer, quoting the Russian poet Mayakovsky. Behind his shoulders were the full 10 classes of Soviet high school. "Entrepreneur Khlipko O.V." read aloud Sledgehammer.
"Well, let's go and see what this Khlipko is like," said Sledgehammer with a smirk, and, feeling a surge of energy, went with the comrades inside the store.
"Just don't fire unnecessarily, you have the iron fist, ram him between his horns once," Lame said, trying to not show out the fright.
"Not pee in pants, Lame, we'll just talk. And you, Fix, don’t touch the gun," Sledgehammer turned to his second comrade, "if need be I'll pull out."
Entering the store, Fix silently looked around, spit out the chewing gum on the floor and said, "Where is this flimsy guy?"
Then, seeing the one old visitor of the store, Fix said, "hey, Antiques, the store closed for tax audit, get out."
"Fix, you didn't have been learned the politeness to talking with old men?" Sledgehammer said indignantly. Then he went up to old man, patted him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse him, sir, this dude is crazy. Do you want to buy something for fishing?"
"No, I just went to look, a light expensive here," said old man and slowly went out.
There were posters, fishing tackles on the walls, tents, sleeping bags, inflatable boats and various utensils on the shelves, hand-made hunting knives was lying under glass showcase. It was knives with multilayered steel with embossed leather covers to them. Sledgehammer was examining the knives and only now noticed the little dude about thirty-five years old, coming out of the cabinet. This was an entrepreneur Oleg Khlipko.