"L'Amour, Louis - Last_of_the_Breed28" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

Flattered, he straddled a chair. He needed a shave, and his eyes looked like he had been drinking too much. "All right, what is it? If it is for you, it is for free. If it is for the government, it will need money." He rubbed his fingers together. "Much money."
"There is a man in town--Shepilov. I need to know where he is located and what he is doing here."
Ostap lit a cigarette. "Shepilov? Yes, he's been here two days now. Bigwig, can't miss him. He's had old Kuzmich in, and Kuzmich means furs. You know the man. He buys from trappers, knows more about the fur-trapping business than anybody."
"What else? I mean, what else than trapping?"
Ostap shrugged, expelling a cloud of smoke. "Trapping, trappers, I expect he knows them all, in this part of the country. He keeps in touch. His people trap all that country north and south of the Kolyma."
"How far west? To Oymyakon?"
"Close, I'd say." He drew on the cigarette and brushed ash onto the floor. "What's going on?"
"It's the American, the one who escaped."
"Oh? I thought they would have had him by now. Ah, I see it now! Your man Shepilov is trying to reach the trappers to hunt for him! It's a good idea. They know their country and are much better than the KGB. I mean, they know that country. They could find anything out there, while the KGB or the army would be just running in circles." He paused. "There's a few here would like to know that old Shepilov's in Magadan. I mean, he doesn't have any friends here. Too many prison gangs in the gold camps here because of him."
"Well, as long as they are in prison--"
"That's just it. Some of them are out and about, only they cannot leave."
"Ostap, you can help me. I want to catch the American first."
"You do? Pretty as you are. I'd think you could get a man without that."
"Don't be silly. It is my job." She paused. "I work with Colonel Zamatev now."
Ostap whistled. "What do you know? He's the one they call the Iron Man. If you're in with him, you are really in. What can I do for you?"
"You know those trappers, too. You sell them vodka. Oh, I know, so don't try to deny it. They all come to you."
"So?"
"If the trappers locate him. I'd like to know it first."
Ostap drew once more on his cigarette, then dropped it to the floor and rubbed it out with his toe. "As I said, there are a lot of people here who do not like Shepilov. I might be able to do something for you." He glanced up, smiling slyly. "We all need something, you know? That includes me. I need a lot of things."
"The Colonel can be grateful. He understands favors."
"Let me get a couple of hours in bed, and I'll get around. There's nobody I could reach, anyway." He paused. "Does Shepilov know you're in town?"
"Not yet, I am sure. He will know, however."
"Don't come back here, then. Where will you be?"
"At Vanya's."
"It is a good place. All right, I will see what I can do."
He got up, hitched up his pants, and went back into the bedroom and closed the door.
"Kyra? Please do not get him into trouble. He takes too many risks. Oh, he does not consider them risks! I know that, but he is always with those people, the black-market people, and all those who live on the edge."
She shrugged. "Katerina, that is Ostap. You know that. He is such a man. You knew that when you married him. He has always lived on the edge. He thrives on it."
"But Shepilov? He is vindictive, Kyra. You should be careful, yourself."

The street was empty when she reached it, and she stood for a moment looking out. It was a gray, dismal day, and the shabby street made it look no better. It was a long walk to Vanya's, but she knew it had to be done. She avoided Lenin Square and kept to side streets, hoping not to be noticed.
Vanya lived on a back street in a small frame house. He lived simply, and there was no better location if she wished to remain free of observation. Vanya was a writer, working on a history of the opening up of Siberia. Previously, he had written accounts of the animal life of Soviet Russia. He was a cousin whom she had often visited at his dacha near the Black Sea, but he cared little for pomp and preferred the wild country and wild animals. He was now completing research on a book about bears, as well as the much longer work on Siberia.
He greeted her with genuine pleasure. "Oh, this is wonderful! I was beginning to be lonely, and here you are!" He closed the door behind her and helped her off with her coat. "What brings you to Magadan?"
"I work with Colonel Zamatev."
"I see." Vanya knew all about Zamatev, had met him several times, and knew he was a man on the way up. He also knew that one did not ask questions about what he was doing or about to do. "Can you stay for a while, I hope?"
"A few days, I believe, if you can put up with me."
"We're not so crowded here as in Moscow. Most people live in Magadan because they must.
"Some tea? Or would you prefer vodka?"
"Tea." She looked across the table at him. "Vanya, you go often to the forest?"
"I have been writing about bears, and that is where they are. Yes, I have spent months in the forest, but mostly far west or south of here. Some of it is very beautiful. All of it is very wild. Here and there are mines, most of them deserted at this time of year unless they are worked by prisoners."
"Have you heard of the American?"
He shrugged. "Very little. Lieutenant Suvarov is an old friend. He comes here occasionally, and I know that is his mission at the moment. They do not seem to be having much luck."
"We must have him. He is very important to us, and Comrade Shepilov is here also, and for the same reason."
"He must be important, this American. But I thought he had been taken long since. After all, it is bitter cold in the taiga, and how he could survive is beyond me."
"He is an Indian, an American Indian."
Vanya was fascinated. "You don't mean it? An American Indian in Siberia? The story is that they came from Asia and passed over a land bridge across the Bering Strait into America. Supposedly, they were following game, with no idea they were making a migration."
"Apparently that is what he is trying to do, follow that same route."
"Marvelous! He must be an amazing man to escape in the first place and to stay alive so long in the second. But are you sure he is still alive?"
Over tea she explained about the helicopter crash and the dead KGB man found near Topka.
"He is coming this way, then?" He sat back in his chair. "Kyra, do you realize what this man is attempting? To escape through forest, much of it not properly explored even now? I would not be in his shoes for anything, and yet I envy him."