There is a black carrying case in the helicopter cabin, and the box cover is written in English with a special box for photography equipment.
The box is 17 meters long, 50 cm wide and high, and weighs 230 kilograms.
When Mikhail was the strongest, he could not move such a heavy box alone. As for now, he is even more unlikely to move such a big box with advanced lymphoma.
His face was pale and sweating profusely. Even if he did nothing, Mikhail looked like he was about to faint.
The helicopter landed in the crater and was not too far from the mountain trail because this part looked flat enough.
After landing, Mikhail pushed open the helicopter's hatch door. He was the only one in the cabin, and no one could help him lift the box down.
But there is no need to lift it, because there are pulleys at the bottom of the box.
Mikhail walked to one end of the box and slowly exerted force. The aluminum-magnesium alloy box slid out. The two wheels first slid out of the hatch door, and then the box was stuck at the edge of the hatch door.
Mikhail continued to exert his force slowly, and the smooth box rubbed against the edge of the helicopter cabin door and slid down, making a loud bang, falling on the snow-covered ground.
The box was not deformed or dropped.
Mikhail breathed a sigh of relief, he picked up the big backpack that he threw aside, walked forward two steps, and then jumped out directly.
The ground is not flat, and the crater cannot be very flat. Now the crater of Mount Fuji is covered with snow, so there is no ground under the snow at all.
The downward wind generated by the rotor blew away most of the floating snow, but there was still a stubborn hard snow attached to the scattered stone. Mikhail, who jumped off, stepped on a stone, which made him lose his balance and his body tilted to one side. However, Mikhail did not fall to the ground, but simply sat on the box where he had just pushed off the helicopter.
The wind was very strong and it was very cold. It poured into my neck hard, and Mikhail couldn't help but shrink his head.
The helicopter began to rise, and the downward wind became smaller and smaller, but the altitude here was too high, so it took the helicopter longer to fly away, which made Mikhaildo feel like the cold wind for a moment.
Mikhail does not feel any altitude sickness, although the altitude here is about 3,700 meters.
It's almost dawn.
Mikhail can see the box clearly without any lighting equipment.
When the box fell down, it stood on the ground first, and then fell over it all, but it didn't matter. Mikhail still had the strength to turn the box over.
It is very unlucky to treat extremely important things so violently at such a critical moment.
It was easier than I thought. It was just the first time I tried it, so I turned the box over easily.
Mikhail let out a sigh, nodded meaninglessly, then he bent over, opened the two snaps, and then opened the lid of the box.
There is a green conical object in the box.
The slender conical shape is 1.5 meters long, and the thickest end has a circumference of about 40 cm, which is not considered thick.
The medium-sized sub-missile head of the Satan Intercontinental Missile, 750,000 tons equivalent.
The originally streamlined warhead now has a rectangular box on the top, which looks very simple, but by opening the box added to the warhead, you will find that it is a machine full of beauty.
There are no electronic components, purely mechanical structure but extremely reliable mechanical fuses.
The height cannot be preset, nor the timing is not given. Two red and blue wires are not the kind of fuse that can prevent the detonation by cutting one.
After taking a look, Mikhail closed the box, because he had no place to sit if he didn't cover the box again.
He took out the backpack that fell to the ground, scratched his head, and then Mikhail took out a bottle of wine he had secretly stuffed into and placed it on a slightly tilted box.
The bottle slid down, Mikhail was quick-witted and he grabbed the bottle that almost fell and placed it at his feet.
A little cold.
To be exact, it's very cold.
My fingers were a little bit cold and my movements were not very flexible.
Mikhail sighed in his hands, and then he continued to get out the things in his bag, and this time he took out a box.
It is not much bigger than the common shoe box, but when the lid is opened, there is a layer of folded black metal sheets inside. Mikhail carefully lifted the metal sheets and gently pulled them with his hands. The folded metal sheets turned into a disc-shaped antenna.
Turning on a delicate and compact tripod, putting the antenna connected to the wire aside, Mikhail pressed a switch.
As part of the lid, the screen lights up.
Mikhail breathed a sigh of relief. He lacked trust in this exquisite and delicate high-tech thing. He was very happy to see that the screen could light up.
I started to search for stars. The antenna is not big, but it is always much larger than the antenna of a satellite phone, so the speed of searching for stars is actually quite fast. It only takes a few seconds before and after, and the signal is full, which is not much slower than the startup time.
Mikhail waited for a while, and he was waiting to access the network. This did not require him to operate, and it was already preset.
Waiting for his own picture to appear on the screen, although it was a little stuck, Mikhail was finally completely relieved.
Signal access, live broadcast has been started.
But Mikhail did not arrange lines for himself, and he did not video calls with anyone. What appears on the screen now is his own selfies and his own live broadcast.
Mikhail had no expression on his face, and he pulled out a rectangular iron piece from his neck.
It is not a dog card, it is a key, a key with a concave carved on one side and a smooth one on the other.
Holding the iron piece, shaking at the camera, Mikhail still hung the key around his neck, and then he took out a box of cigarettes from his pocket.
Seven stars produced in a box of notebooks, and the seven stars black.
It's not the cigarette Mikhail likes, but he has no other choice.
It was the day when the cancer was diagnosed and was forced to quit smoking, but now, Mikhail obviously has no need to continue quitting smoking.
He tore open the packaging, put a cigarette into his mouth, and then reached out to take out a lighter from his pocket.
My hands were a little cold and my fingers were a little wood. I rubbed them several times in a row. Although the sparks of flint were rising, the lighter was not there.
Ordinary gas lighters cannot be used on plateaus, Mikhail knew that he just wanted to try it.
After all, if the lighter can be used, there is no need to use a match.
How could Mikhail not prepare a match for himself?
I threw away the lighter and took out the match. My hands were too stiff and it was a bit difficult to scratch the match.
The first match was cut off, Mikhail took out another one, and on the third time the match lit it, and then he lit the cigarette with the match.
Take a deep breath.
He sucked too deeply, and Mikhail, who had quit smoking for some time, couldn't help but cough, but while he was coughing, he also felt unprecedented satisfaction.
This cigarette feels so comfortable after more than two years.
After spitting out a long mouthful of cigarettes, Mikhail held the cigarette in his mouth, got up and left the box, and opened the lid again.
Due to the angle, the camera cannot capture the things in the box, but it doesn’t matter. This nuclear bomb must explode, and there is no need to take it.
The cigarette in his mouth was a little fumbling. Mikhail tilted his head. He reached into his pocket and took out a note of paper. He pulled off the iron piece hanging around his neck with his left hand, and then inserted the iron piece into the fuse box on the bullet.
When the iron piece was inserted, I heard a few subtle mechanical sounds, and the crunch sounded quite nice.
The box opened a gap and Mikhail lifted the box on the bullet.
In the box is a row of numeric keys and metal keys, just like the ones on old-fashioned typewriters, arranged in order from 0 to 9.
In fact, Mikhail remembered the password, but he decided to look at the notes, and he thought it was safer.
For ten numbers and ten digit passwords, just press the numeric keys in the correct order.
Mikhail pressed the numeric keys, and it took a moment to pop up again after the numeric keys fell, and then there was a crisp sound of metal hitting.
Every time you press, you will sound. You cannot enter the wrong input. If the wrong input box is used, you will explode. This nuclear bomb will have no possibility of detonation.
I don't know which bastard designed this simple and complex manual mechanical fuse.
After entering the ten-digit password, the last step is to pull a not-so-large paddle, which is the confirmation key, the mechanical confirmation key.
Mikhail breathed a sigh of relief. He did not rush to confirm, but turned around and looked at the screen.
Mikhail sat directly on the nuclear bomb.
Pick up the wine bottle I just placed next to the box. A bottle of vodka is not made in Russia, but an absolute brand vodka made in Sweden.
But Mikhail doesn't care about the brand, he is satisfied with drinking it in one sip.
Mikhail opened the bottle, raised the bottle with his left hand and took the cigarette roll from his mouth with his right hand.
With a cigarette in his right hand and a bottle of wine in his left hand, Mikhail wanted to say something, but when the matter came to an end, he didn't want to say it anymore.
It’s not that I don’t know what to say, but that I don’t want to say the designed lines anymore, but that I just don’t want to say them anymore.
Mikhail took back the bottle and took a sip. This one was very big, and a quarter of the bottle fell into it.
Putting down the bottle and breathing a long sigh, Mikhail put the cigarette butt that was only a short piece in his mouth and took a sip.
He shook his hands in a casual and comfortable manner, knocked the ashes, and blew out the alcohol-like smoke mixed with the air.
He raised the wine bottle to the screen again, raised it for a while, and Mikhail took another sip.
This mouth is not that big, and my head is a little dizzy.
He yelled, then put the cigarette into his mouth and took a sip again. After smoking part of the tobacco, it burned to the cigarette butt, which was a little smelly.
Mikhail threw the cigarette butt out, and then he smiled, and raised the bottle of wine to the screen again with a smile.
I took it back, took it hard again, put the bottle down, and twisted my body.
Mikhail spoke in a very comfortable tone, and he stretched out his hand and gently stroked it.
A crisp sound of impact.
The explosion was slightly delayed, but it was only a little delay of dozens of milliseconds.
Mikhail couldn't even feel this delay, nor did he realize it. He just pulled down the pick and then it was dawn.
Chapter completed!