The book is written in a humorous genre. One day at the dawn of a fine summer day, a strange encryption appears in the messenger of the Foreign Intelligence Service Colonel-General Bystrov. It looks like the situation does not bode well, something went wrong. However, wait and see.
One day at dawn which promised a sunny, fine day, the landlord’s cat sonorously named Povoroti swiftly ran to the balcony with a stunning view of the Mediterranean Sea. The Maine Coon made his way through an old-fashioned oak desk, on which there was an unsuspecting laptop hibernating peacefully.
The lid of the computer was open, and therefore, when the Sicilian cat was jogging across it to his longed-for goal, the laptop abruptly turned on, providing the cat free access to Telegram. And, in view of this circumstance, Povoroti, unwittingly, wrote and sent to the chat of the interlocutor the following message:
11111`322222222222222222222222222222222a65; " [= — =
While Maine Coon Povoroti was peacefully contemplating an impressive seascape from the balcony, while dreaming of a date with a sweet-hearted, adorable neighbor cat named Beatrice, in the city of Moscow an FSB officer, the Foreign Intelligence Service Colonel-General named Bystrov received the above message in his Telegram.
After some thought, he called a friend.
— Kolya, get here now, I have news in Telegram, you know. We need to talk.
About half an hour later, Kolya appeared at the door — it was a two meter tall man who kept a military bearing.
— Look what a message came from Ivan. What do you think he wanted to say? Or do you think the same as me, eh?
— I suppose, the same as you, cos what else I can think? If the encryption cannot be deciphered, then our agent must have slipped up, got stuck in, been compromised, or something. Well, how else could it be?
— Well, I think so too, and most likely, I believe that this is exactly something else.
— And what the hell do we do now?
— There’s nothing we can do — let’s wait for the agent to get in touch with us, and then we’ll act under the circumstances.
At that very time, on the balcony of the neighbor’s mansion, there appeared the one for the sake of which every dawn Povoroti undertook a rapid jog across the room of sleeping Ivan. And once again the fiery heart of the enamored Maine Coon could not stand the influx of feelings, and, trying his best, he sang his shrill meow-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo for the entire coast.