Having opened the next envelope, the President was perplexed. And there was a reason. Instead of the expected certificate that the International Monetary Fund is once again ready to fill the budget of independent Russia with its feasible contribution, the package contained a photograph accompanied on the reverse side by a neat overprint: “Dear Mr. President! I hope it won’t be difficult for you to find out where these items are?” - “Are they crazy there, you know?! — the President frowned, re-reading the inscription — “They’re playing a guessing game!” He turned the picture over, and his light eyes grew larger, as if they wanted to look under the glossy layer of photographic emulsion. The objects captured by someone's amateur soapbox were nuclear warheads and could not have been anything else. Three massive metal carcasses, capable of sweeping away a medium-sized city in a matter of seconds, lay forlornly on the rocky soil overgrown with withered vegetation.