"Clancy, Tom - Clear & Present Danger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Clancy Tom)

"Yeah. Him and Portagee were working on something or other down in the goat locker."

"Okay, let's go see 'em." Wegener rose and waved for his visitors to follow.

"You need me, sir? I have some work to do."

"Sure thing, XO. Thanks."

"Aye aye. See you gentlemen later," the lieutenant said, and disappeared around a corner.

The walk took longer than Murray expected. They had to detour around two work parties who were repainting bulkheads. The chiefs' quarters - called the goat locker for reasons ancient and obscure - was located aft. Riley and Oreza, the two most senior chiefs aboard, shared the cabin nearest the small compartment where they and their peers ate in relative privacy. Wegener got to the open door and found a cloud of smoke. The bosun had a cigar clamped in his teeth while his oversized hands were trying to manipulate a ridiculously small screwdriver. Both men came to their feet when the captain appeared.

"Relax. What the hell you got there?"

"Portagee found it." Riley handed it over. "It's a real old one and we've been trying to fix it."

"How does 1778 grab you, sir?" Oreza asked. "A sextant made by Henry Edgworth. Found it in an old junk shop. It might be worth a few bucks if we can get it cleaned up."

Wegener gave it a close look. "1778, you said?"

"Yes, sir. That makes it one of the oldest-model sextants. The glass is all broke, but that's easy to fix. I know a museum that pays top dollar for these - but then I might just keep it myself, of course."

"We got some company," Wegener said, getting back to business. "They want to talk about the two people we picked up."

Murray and Bright held up their ID cards. Dan noticed a phone in the compartment. The XO, he realized, might have called to warn them what was coming. Riley's cigar hadn't dropped an ash yet.

"No problem," Oreza said. "What are you guys going to do with the bastards?"

"That's up to the U.S. Attorney," Bright said. "We're supposed to help put the case together, and that means we have to establish what you people did when you apprehended them."

"Well, you want to talk to Mr. Wilcox, sir. He was in command of the boarding party," Riley said. "We just did what he told us."

"Lieutenant Wilcox is on leave," the captain pointed out.

"What about after you brought them aboard?" Bright asked.

"Oh, that," Riley admitted. "Okay, I was wrong, but that little cocksucker - I mean, he spit on the captain, sir, and you just don't do that kinda shit, y'know? So I roughed him up some. Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but maybe that little prick oughta have manners, too."

"That's not what we're here about," Murray said after a moment. "He says you hanged him."

"Hung him? What from?" Oreza asked.

"I think you call it the yardarm."

"You mean - hang, like in, well, hang? Around the neck, I mean?" Riley asked.

"That's right."

The bosun's laugh rumbled like an earthquake. "Sir, if I ever hung somebody, he wouldn't go around bitchin' about it the next day."