"Dean Ing - Silent Thunder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ing Dean)

Waiting alone for the car near the Rechte Bahngasse, Kalvin felt that the old man had still
not decided to trust the Americans. One or both of those coat pockets, he judged, was
full of handgun? an infraction far more serious in Austria than in, say, the United States.
For Kalvin and the major, sidearms were more acceptable; above a certain level of
business such things were taken for granted.

Dieter Mainz returned before the major did, lugging an old leather valise that, Kalvin
presumed, held the secrets of Donnersprache. Kalvin tried not to stare at it, smiling
instead at his companion, who kept jerking his head away from the street to scan the
shadows. I think you need not fear for your life,'' Kalvin said, noticing the old man's
nervous glances. How important can Donnersprache be, in a time when a radio
transmitter can be hidden in the heel of a shoe?

Can that transmitter hypnotize ten million listeners?

Kalvin shrugged. I suppose it depends on what is Mid, he hedged, watching a bulky
shadow stroll into the street two hundred meters away. He tensed as the distant stranger
began to walk in their direction. This old guy is getting to me, he admitted to himself.

No, it does not matter what is said when the machine makes one's words seem
absolutely true. What matters is the listener's capacity, and desire, to believe in
something. Mainz said it dogmatically, as if lecturing on fundamentals.

Before enlisting to avoid the draft and a rifleman's fate in Vietnam, Walter Kalvin had
been a mediocre student of rhetoric at NYU. The concept of charisma, the overwhelming
power of certain individuals to convince many others, had never seemed so real to him
as it did at this moment. Maybe old Mainz himself has charisma, thought Kalvin. He's
sure got my nerves twanging. Lord, what if it's a kind of force field, and he has one in
his pocket? Chuckling at his own fanciful notion, Kalvin said, Perhaps you will tell me
exactly what Donnersprache is, and what it does. Do you have it with you, Herr Mainz?
I should not be offering to sell the machine to a man who docs not already know such
basic things, Mainz protested. The Bolsheviks know that much, at least.

The major was taking an infernally long time, and it seemed to Kalvin that the old man
was rethinking his decision. To keep him engaged, Kalvin asked, How can you be certain
the Russians know something I don't?

Because they have no other reason to ensure that poor, addled Rudolf Hess rots alone in
Spandau Prison, the old man said.

The man walking toward them seemed to loom, now, though he was a hundred paces
away. I don't understand, said Kalvin, reaching into his coat for his Salems, caressing the
butt of the pistol for added confidence. He decided he did not need the cigarette.

A sigh. Last October, the Nazi criminals in Spandau were released; von Schirach and
Speer, the old man went on. All but Hess, whom everyone knows has lost his mind. But
even a crazy man can make sense at times. That is what the Bolsheviks fear. Schirach
was a fool, and Speer only a hapless architect. If that swine Hitler would not trust his
own Gestapo with Donnersprache, why would he entrust its secrets to such as those?
No; only a few knew. Those of us who developed it, and of course Goering? and Hess.