About the book: year / The night from the eleventh to the twelfth of July 1969 turned out to be unusually rainy. A seemingly solid wall of water poured out onto the sleepy Moscow streets, onto the sidewalks, onto the asphalt and broke into pieces on them. A black Volga was rushing along the half-empty avenue. Every now and then a stream of water burst out from under her wheels, easily reaching the side of the road. If you had driven by during the day, passers-by would probably have spoken less than pleasant words to the driver. But the sidewalk was deserted, and only the sound of rain accompanied the car. Five people sat tightly in the cabin. Almost everyone was in civilian clothes, except for a young man sitting in the middle of the back seat. The uniform of an Air Force captain fit perfectly on his narrow shoulders, and indignation was visible on his thin face.: