"L Ron Hubbard - Mission Earth 05 - Fortune of Fear" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hubbard L. Ron)

Kennedy Airport to New York. I would leave her fifty. I put the other four hundred and fifty in my
own wallet. I was broke, oh so very broke. It was quite welcome. And she deserved to get a trick
for a trick.
Raht. I had to get him off on the same plane. I took the activator-receiver and the 831
Relayer and put them in their cases. I picked up his ticket and money. As an afterthought, I took
four hundred and fifty dollars of his money and put it in my own pocket.
I raced down to his room. He was just getting up but he flinched back into bed when he saw
me.
"Vacation is over, you loafing bum," I told him. "You're outward bound for New York on this
morning's plane. There will be a woman on it, in a hood, cape and veil; passport, U.S.; name,
Heavenly Joy Krackle; height, five feet nine and a half inches; blond hair; blue or gray eyes
depending on whether she is trying to get something out of you or about to kill you. Keep this
unit within two hundred miles of her at all times and after you leave Istanbul, turn on the switch
on this one. Mark this unit K so you don't get them mixed up if the two people separate."
"This is not very much money," he said, holding up the fifty-dollar bill. "Have they cut down
on travel funds? I think I've got time to get over to the base and contact Faht Bey before plane
time. I'll need money to live in New York."
(Bleep) him. Sly. I was up to it, however. I snatched up a tablet of prescription blanks,
whipped out my identoplate and rapidly stamped the whole pad on the lines where it said Doktor__.
"Fill these out and hand them in to the New York office. They'll give you money."
"I hope I can buy food with phenobarbital," he said.
I looked at him. Actually, he appeared years younger after his treatment and repair. Healthy
for a change. "You're too fat," I said. "Fat from lying around doing nothing. And you've let your
mustache grow. She is not to recognize you! Shave it off!" I knew that would get him. It was his
pride and joy, sticking out straight on either side.
He flinched.
I whipped out my Knife Section knife from the back of my neck, so quick he didn't even see
how it had appeared in my hand. I made a gesture at the mustache.
He wailed and ducked. "I'll shave it! I'll shave it!"
That was better. I had him under control.
I rushed back to Prahd's office. I looked at the viewer. She was leaving the warehouse, three
big cases in her hands. I didn't have much time.
With fast motions, I grabbed the odds and ends of the bug set that was left. I raced out into
the hall. By opening a couple of doors on patients just awakening, I found a third: it was an
unused interview room. I dumped the viewer and box in a cabinet and locked it. I closed the room
up. I went back to Prahd's office and got her grip. I raced down to the private room she had
occupied. Slowing, I sauntered in.
Prahd was there all shaved and combed and in a fresh doctor's coat.
Krak entered the door with her cases. En route she had picked up the two hypnohelmets. She
looked like a walking baggage rack. Prahd hastened to take things from her and put them on the
bed.
Her eyes were bright. She did not look like a person is supposed to look after an operation.
She stretched out her arm to free it from the cloak. She said to Prahd, "I peeked under the
bandage," and she indicated her wrist. "You seem to have gotten rid of my scars. And I seem to
have my tan back. I think you did a wonderful job. And look at my teeth gleam." She showed him.
I flinched.
But Prahd beamed and dug his toe into the floor like a wriggling little boy. Idiot. She had
taken him in entirely! "I'm so happy you're pleased," he said. "It is an honor indeed to serve
such a lovely patient. You can take all the cups and bandages off by midafternoon. They're just
there to take the redness out."