"Bolan, Mack - Stony Man 35 - Message To America" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bolan Mack)

Man Farm command center. It was time to get the
show on the road. He spoke a few words into the
minimicrophone hidden by the raised collar of his
jacket, giving the green light to the other two mem-
bers of the Phoenix team, Rafael Encizo and Calvin
James. Then he lit up another of the toxic Russian
cigarettes.
Behind him, eighty yards farther down the dock,
the 155-foot trawler, Varuskya Liset, rested at her
moorings. A trio of short, burly men armed with So-
viet assault rifles stood atop her gangway. They held
their shoulder-slung AKS-74s down low but not com-
pletely out of sight.
They weren't protecting a cargo of Arctic cod with
5.45 mm automatic weapons.
They guarded something more precious than gold,
something every jumped-up, pot-metal, Third World
president-for-life wanted. The power to inflict mega-
death.
When the Belomor was half-smoked, McCarter
nodded to Manning and they picked up their satchels
and started down the dock like a pair of well-
lubricated sailors in no particular hurry to get back to




work. Their zigzag route took them closer and closer
to the Varuskya Liset--absolute ground zero.

Stony Man Farm, Virginia
8:34 p.m. EDT

AT THE SOUND OF THE BEEP, Aaron "the Bear"
Kurtzman removed his mug from the computer lab's
microwave oven. Steam snaked up from the cup, car-
rying with it the bitter smell of feboiled coffee. He
took a sip and made a face. He couldn't remember
how many times he'd reheated it, but five dark brown
rings around the inside of the cup's rim indicated re-
cent lowerings of the waterline.
Kurtzman dumped the undrinkable brew down the
sink. There wasn't time to build a fresh pot of the
black-as-tar, supercaffeinated java that he preferred,
and that everyone else on the Stony Man Farm elec-
tronic-Intel squad either doctored with milk and
sugar--or avoided like the plague. He snatched a pair
of blueberry danishes from the covered tray beside
the microwave, figuring a sugar lift, though brief, was
better than no lift at all.