"Simon Hawke - Wizards 08 - Wizard of Lovecraft Cafe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

He had never worked with the Bureau of Thaumaturgy before, but he had seen how they could throw
their weight around. When the Bureau snapped their fingers, the entire department jumped. And they
snapped their fingers pretty much anytime they felt like it. Crime involving magic use was a very big deal
and the B.O.T. had sole jurisdiction in that area. Angelo did not begrudge them that. Not being an adept
himself, he had no desire to go chasing criminal adepts. Chasing ordinary criminals was challenging
enough. What he resented was the Bureau's lording it over the department, as

if the cops were just a bunch of flunkies they could call on anytime they needed some warm bodies. Like
this time.

They were in a hurry. They hadn't even bothered with a full briefing. It was a sensitive case, they said,
and the department personnel were on a strict "need-to-know" basis. What that meant was there were
some minor details they didn't want the rank and file to know; about. The sort of minor details that could
get somebody killed, thought Angelo. He hadn't wanted to go on this damn raid in the first place, and as
things developed, he felt less and less enthused about it.

Why had they swept him up in it? Because they had also swept up about half the cops in the entire city,
or so it seemed, at least. When they got to Sutton Place, enough unmarked cars had converged on the
block to start a used car lot, and even more black-and-whites had taken up position in the surrounding
six-block area. He noticed snipers stationed on the rooftops and several choppers cruising over the East
River. Whatever the hell was going down, Angelo thought uneasily, it had to be pretty damn big. The
reason he felt uneasy about it was that he would be one of the first to go in.

"This isn't a raid, it's a fuckin' invasion," Angelo said to the Bureau man seated next to him in the back of
the unmarked unit. "Just what is it this guy Cornwall is supposed to have done?"

"He's a cop killer," Agent Silver replied. "And he's taken out several of our top Bureau agents."

"No shit. So how come I've never seen a sheet on him?"

"Because you weren't cleared to," Silver said curtly. "This is a top priority I.T.C. case."

"The Commission wants this guy?" said Angelo. He whistled softly. If the International Thaumaturgical
Commission had jurisdiction in this case, then it was major magic crime and international in scope and
that would explain why the Bureau was so hot and bothered. The Bureau answered to nobody . . .
except the I.T.C. "Who the hell is he?"

"A renegade adept," said Silver's partner, Whelen, from the front seat. "That's all you need to know."

"Wrong, Gandalf," Angelo said. "If you expect me to go in there and put my sweet alabaster ass on the
line, I'm gonna have to know a lot more."

"All we expect you to do is provide a brief distraction," Agent Whelen said. "We'll take care of the rest.
We know what we're doing."

"Yeah, right. That's why you assembled a goddamn army to take this guy down," said Angelo. "What is
he, a fuckin' necromancer, for Christ's sake?"

The B.O.T. men simply stared at him in stony silence.