I SNOWSTORM
Snowflakes covered wide windows, obscuring a view of the landing strip, that was buried under mountains of snow. It's only been an hour and a half since the beginning of the snowstorm, and the landscape around the small airport in the city, which is difficult to find on the map, looked more like Antarctica. In a small shabby hall gathered about 15 people. Not one of them had any plans to be here today and clearly was not happy with such an occasion.
It was quite rare to see so many people here at the same time. But today nature decided to play a cruel joke and force two planes to make an unscheduled landing in this God-forgotten place. Both of those planes now huddled in a small rusted hangar.
One of them, old, local airlines' small jet, looked here quite naturally. But the other, the proud and the sparkling private luxuries jet near it appeared like a thoroughbred horse in the villager's stable.
The crowd in the hall also divided into two groups. On the right side near the wall, huddled a bunch of passengers surrounded by their luggage on dirty-yellow iron benches. They all were from the regular flight.
There were: a woman of about thirty with a baby in her arms and an elderly lady accompanying her; two middle-aged men in battered but neat work uniforms; a couple of pensioners; a middle-aged couple in bright t-shirts, standing out from the general gray crowed and a girl in her twenties. She was tightly wrapped in a heavy jacket so that from under the hood one couldn't even see her nose. The look on all those faces was quite gloomy.
On the other hand, the left side of the hall looked utterly different. Five men from privet jet leisurely sited in a circle in comfy chairs brought from registry desk. All five behaved as though they were the owners of the whole airport, and all the people around did not exist at all. Expensive suits, relaxed poses and loud, friendly bickering created around these people an atmosphere more suited for an elite club for executives than this half-abandoned airport on the outskirts.
"Gregory, stop making this sour face. None of us are happy to get stuck in here." – The blond man with surprisingly clean and manly facial features said reassuringly and slapped on a shoulder gruffly brunet near him, handing him a glass with a dark honey colored liquid in it. Gregory Wells or Greg, as his friends called him, muttered a few curses, but still accepted the whiskey.
If you asked him just a few hours ago, where he will be at the moment, then none of the logical algorithms or hypothetical scenarios would lead him to the assumption that he will be stuck in this hole for an incomprehensible amount of time. Even the company of his old friends did not make his mood better.
Frank, the good-natured merry fellow with the appearance of Captain America, was his childhood friends. Therefore, his company was as natural and comfortable as a favorite pair of jeans.
Tony, a short but devilishly charming and indecently rich ladies' man with obvious Latin roots sitting opposite, Greg met him in college. They hated each other at first sight, fought on the second meeting and became best friends while lying in the same hospital ward after that. All this trip was, by the way, his idea. That's why right now Tony was trying his best to lift everyone's mood and not to earn a black eye in the process.
Mike Ross, the youngest member of their group, was as always taciturn and cool as a cucumber. As if he was now not in the middle of a snowstorm, in the menacingly creaking building, but on his couch in front of the TV.
Despite his young age of only 29, he made an impression of the eldest and most even minded of their company.
Paul, on the contrary, looked like a teenager, even though he was already 35. Because of his pretty baby face, coupled with unruly red hair, he was forced to apply a lot of effort to be taken seriously. Even in the courtroom, where he despite anything already made a name for himself as a lawyer, Paul still sometimes was asked to prove that he was adult by those who meet him for the first time. That was the main reason for his personality to become so cold, arrogant and sarcastic. Only his friends could calmly and humorously react to his venomous comments, always displeased face and even enjoyed his taunts.
"If it were not for your stupid idea to arrange an authentic lumberjack style party in a cabin in the mountains nothing like this would have happened." – Paul hissed for the hundredth time glaring at Tony.
"Guys, would you stop whining already?! Why are you behaving like little girls?" – Tony raised his hands in a pacifying gesture and smiled disarmingly, trying to calm everyone.
"Speaking of girls..." – Paul said, his eyes becoming dangerously cold.
The atmosphere immediately fell another few degrees down almost freezing everything around. Greg took a deep breath, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
In fact, their little trip was not so bad, at least it's beginning. But all fun and jokes ended when instead of a group of hot Finnish models, which Tony promised them, the cabin was invaded by a dozen hot Finnish drag queens. Although their beards and broad, muscular shoulders were pretty suitable for the party theme, all those curves were also splendidly decorated with an elephant-sized negligee with ruffles and a tone of glitter.
Greg shuddered, trying to erase from his memories how he was running, stumbling through the forest to their cars, while being chased by a bull size black man in red strings and a sheepskin coat, bulldozing through the snow after him. Most probably, his alluring cries and hard panting will haunt Greg for a long time in nightmares. Well, the only bright thing is that he resisted and never turned around to look back otherwise Greg believed that he would not avoid a heart attack in his age of 34.
Meanwhile, everyone looked at Paul, who suddenly squeezed shut his eyes. His face was pale, and a bunch of red spots started to appear on it. Not the best sign, although everyone around him fully understood the reason and tried not to mention his appearance after he made it to their cars as the last one and especially diligently looked away from his neck with a massive purple hickey. Frank, noticed Paul being on the verge of plunging into a state of mental stupor and tried to prevent this. He loudly cleared his throat and decided to change the topic.
"I'm more than sure that it's not Tony's fault." – his bumming voice dragged everyone attention from Paul, – "Do you remember Angela?"
"You mean that chick with ever crimson lips that clung to Greg at the last party?" – Mike asked in a tone, devoid of any emotions. Thought it didn't sound at all like a question but rather a statement.
"Of course, we remember Ange. She is a sweetie!" – As always with enthusiasm, Tony declared. He was a universal darling of all. Not even the worst bitch out there could resist such genuinely adoring eyes and an innocent wide smile from this man. Only a few people closest to him knew that in fact, his real face was much different. Even Paul always kept in mind that Tony was the last person who you want to provoke between them.
"As far as I remember, this sweetheart was listening very closely to your outpouring about how tiresome these fashionable parties became, expensive perfume and tasteless snacks, etc. And your big plans for the weekend here, Tony." - Frank continued. - "And if you still remember how Greg this time literally dumped and humiliated Angela, you can clearly determine the first suspect."
After such a statement, Tony's face did not change much, only the smile grew a little wider, and a suspicious shine appeared in his eyes. Greg just shrugged and looked away.
"I did no such a thing. I'm not even sure who you are talking about right now" – Greg tried to protest.
The guys just rolled their eyes at his words. His friends were well aware of the little peculiarity of their friend, which often led to many unpleasant situations. Greg had absolutely no memory for faces. Maybe it was due to a complete lack of interest in anyone other than his family and closest friends or with some other quirks of the brain.
At first, his friends thought he was just eccentric, trying to show his arrogance. But one event in college has proven them wrong. Just for fun, they persuaded one girl to pretend to be his temporary girlfriend Sylvia and go on a date in her stead. But they did not expect that Greg will notice it only when real Sylvia has busted them in action.
The catch was that Greg managed to spend the whole evening with a substitute and did not even pay attention to the fact that she was Asian, though with the same vigorous blond hair like that of Sylvia. Later Greg decided to limit himself to one night stands only, to avoid such a blunder. Luckily he did not lack the willing. Tony, in turn, took on all the work associated with communicating with customers or partners in their business.
"If you think that throwing a girl from your lap to the floor is quite common. Then, yes! Of course! You acted like a real gentleman tenderly putting her down, face first over the armrest." – Paul reminded him with a sly smile, clearly enjoying the puzzled expression of his friend. Greg tried hard to remember such an event, but every time only fragments of various parties emerged in his head, which had long since merged in his mind into a mash of accessible, leggy, busty chicks, expensive alcohol, loud music and the disorderly body movements of the faceless crowd around him.
Such activities were always a drag for Greg – ever confident in himself and his abilities, man, was feeling lost and nervous in a large crowd of people.
In many respects, this was due to his mental disease – prosopagnosia (as his psychiatrist called it). Although it is not surprising – many would feel uncomfortable in the company of even a few people whose faces could not be distinguished. And when this whole freaking crowd of faceless bodies is rubbing around you in the colorful flashing lighting of the club under loud music – it all seemed to him more like a perverted drug addict's nightmare.
But, unfortunately, his status as president of the company required from time to time to appear at fashionable parties and meeting, at least to show his face and shake hands. And Greg was very serious about his work.
"Damn, these chicks have become even nastier recently. Maybe I really did something like that. But they are so insolent! Throwing their bodies on me, like on a sofa. Imagine that some faceless freak suddenly jumps out of the crowd and throws her skinny buttocks on your lap, and trying to grope you. I was acting on a reflex; she should thank me that I did not hit her."
"Um, Greg, dear! I do not want to upset you, but Angy is not who knows who, but our press secretary. By the way, she has been working for three years already. And you, by the way, have been sleeping with her for nine months straight . . . " – Tony uttered in a serious tone.
Greg's eyebrows crept up after such a statement. Now he was more than puzzled by this turn of events.
"Why nobody told me about this?" – Greg hissed with ill-concealed anger.
"That you are sleeping with a woman? We thought, since you took part in this, you would be aware of this." – Paul answered sarcastically.
"We thought you finally decided to try serious relationships, well, or at least long-term relationships. You even started to recognize her face." – Frank was clearly flustered and worried. Since he knew Greg from childhood, he perfectly understood how his friend would react to such an incident. For the rest, this could be the reason for jokes, but Frank realized how much the topic was painful for his friend.
"Are you crazy? What face? I do not even remember her name. Do you have a massive hallucination or what?"
"Greg, calm down!" Frank said, putting his hand forward in a pacifying gesture. "We all have often seen you call her by name and talked to her quite calmly. Plus, she told me herself that although you do not want to advertise your relationship, there's no reason to doubt your feelings."
"Damn, Frank! And you believed her? How many such deceitful creatures we came across already?"
"Bro, calm down. I could have doubted her words, but don't forget that I'm the head of the security service. I don't even need to lift a finger to know who you are meeting after work for more than half a year. Moreover, the press was musing your affairs for more than a month. You didn't say anything, so we just let it rest…"
"This is rubbish." – Greg exhaled, wearily covering his eyes with his hand. It did not make any sense for him. He could have thought that friends were kidding him, but Frank's serious face showed otherwise. – "I may have a bad memory for faces, but I remember everything else perfectly. And lately yes, in general, over the past ten years, I have not spent more than one night with one woman. And to be able to recognize anyone by face?! I'm 100% sure that it is impossible."
Suddenly an idea came to him. Rummaging in his pockets, he fished out his phone and began to check his contact list:
"Here! Look! Last Thursday I met Red-hair with long legs. A week before this with a curly brunette." – The men gathered around Greg. Their eyebrows crawled up at the sight of the list of contacts in the phone. There was not a single normal name, only "blond, fake boobs" or "bob hair, washboard" some of them were so crude and blatant that Paul began to glow from an overabundance of stinging comments. Mike, noticed this from the corner of his eye, gently punched him on the ribs and sent a few warning glances.
Frank studied the list carefully. There was no trace left of his carefree personality, giving way to the cold and collective expression of the head of one of the most successful security agencies in the capital.
"That's doesn't make sense." – Even the timbre of his voice changed dramatically. – "While I cannot say anything specific right now We have to check this with my data when we are back."
Greg looked hopefully at his best friend. In this situation, he felt utterly helpless, and this feeling he hated with every fiber of his soul. All that he had now, he ripped from the fate with his teeth. And with each new success appeared more and more scumbags, like parasites, trying to benefit from someone else's labor. If someone learned about his weakness, the possibility to trick him using it was endless. But it was not the most frightening for him. What if he really forgot something? What if, apart from the people, he began to forget events, maybe even whole days.
Mike, noticing how Greg started to tremble slightly, silently handed him a half-drunk bottle of whiskey.
"Don't think about it too much. Now – drink!" – Mike opened his mouth very seldom. His rough baritone made everyone smile involuntarily.
"Truth is spoken by our silent one. Let's put it aside for now! There is nothing we are unable to solve later. You know, bro, we are here for you." Proclaimed Tony, clinking glasses with his friend's bottle.