"McCammon, Robert R. - The Wolf's Hour" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCammon Robert R)

The flames crackled and spat sparks. Michael Gallatin waited for the rest of it.
УYouТd be flown over France and go in by parachute, near the village of Bazancourt about sixty miles northwest of Paris,Ф Humes-Talbot said. УOne of our people will be at the drop point to meet you. From there, youТll be taken to Paris and given all the help you need to reach Adam. This is a high-priority assignment, Major Gallatin, and if the invasionТs going to have any chance at all, weТve got to know what weТre up against.Ф
Michael watched the fire burn. He said, УIТm sorry. Find someone else.Ф
УBut, sirЕ please donТt make a hastyЧФ
УI said IТve retired. That ends it.Ф
УWell, thatТs just peachy!Ф Shackleton burst out. УWe broke our butts gettinТ here, because we were told by some jackass that you were the best in your business, and you say youТre Сretired.Т Ф He slurred the word. УWhere I come from thatТs just another way of sayinТ a manТs lost his nerve.Ф
Michael smiled thinly, which served to infuriate Shackle-ton even more, but didnТt respond.
УMajor, sir?Ф Humes-Talbot tried again. УPlease donТt give us your final word now. WonТt you at least think about the assignment? Perhaps we might stay overnight, and we can discuss it again in the morning?Ф
Michael listened to the noise of sleet against the windows. Shackleton thought of the long road home, and his tailbone throbbed. УYou can stay the night,Ф Michael agreed, Уbut I wonТt go to Paris.Ф
Humes-Talbot started to speak again, but he decided to let it rest. Shackleton muttered, УHellfire and damnation!Ф but Michael only pondered the fires of his own making.
УWe brought along a driver,Ф Humes-Talbot said. УIs there a possibility you might find some room for him?Ф
УIТll put a cot in front of the fire.Ф He got up and went to get the cot from his storage room, and Humes-Talbot left the house to call Mallory in.
While the two men were gone, Shackleton nosed around the den. He found an antique rosewood Victrola, a record on the turntable. Its title was The Rite of Spring, by somebody named Stravinsky. Well, count on a Russian to like Russian music. Probably a bunch of Slavic jabberwocky. He could use a bright Bing Crosby tune on a night like this. Gallatin liked books, that was for sure. Volumes like Man from Beast, Carnivores, A History of Gregorian Chants, ShakespeareТs World, and other books with Russian, German, and French titles filled the bookcases.
УDo you like my house?Ф
Shackleton jumped. Michael had come up behind him, silent as mist. He was carrying a folding cot, which he unfolded and placed before the hearth. УThe house was a Lutheran church in the eighteen-forties. Survivors of a shipwreck built it; the sea cliffs are only a hundred yards from here. They built a village on this site, too, but bubonic plague wiped them out eight years later.Ф
УOh,Ф Shackleton said, and wiped his hands on his trouser legs.
УThe ruins were still sturdy. I decided to try to put it back together again. It took me all of four years, and I still have a lot to do. In case youТre wondering, IТve got a generator that runs on petrol out back.Ф
УI figured you didnТt have power lines way out here.Ф
УNo. Not way out here. YouТll be sleeping in the tower room where the pastor died. ItТs not a very large room, but the bedТs big enough for two.Ф The door opened and closed, and Michael glanced back at Humes-Talbot and the chauffeur. Michael stared for a few seconds, unblinking, as the old man took off his hat and topcoat. УYou can sleep here,Ф Michael said, with a gesture toward the cot. УThe kitchenТs through that door, if you want coffee or anything to eat,Ф he told all three of them. УI keep hours you might find odd. If you hear me up in the middle of the nightЕ stay in your room,Ф he said, with a glance that made the back of ShackletonТs neck crawl.
УIТm going up to rest.Ф Michael started up the stairs. He paused and selected a book. УOhЕ the bathroom and shower are behind the house. I hope you donТt mind cold water. Good night, gentlemen.Ф He ascended the steps, and in another moment they heard a door softly close.
УDamn weird,Ф Shackleton muttered, and he trudged into the kitchen for something to chew on.


4


Michael sat up in bed and lit an oil lamp. He hadnТt been sleeping, only waiting. He picked up his wristwatch from the small table beside his bed, though his sense of time told him it was after three. It was three-oh-seven.
He sniffed the air, and his eyes narrowed. A smell of tobacco smoke. Burley and latakia, a potent blend. He knew that aroma, and it called him.
He was still dressed, in his khakis and black sweater. He slipped on his loafers, picked up the lamp, and followed its yellow glow down the circular staircase.
A couple of fresh logs had been added to the hearth, and a polite fire burned. Michael saw a haze of pipe smoke drifting above the high-backed leather chair that faced the flames. The cot was empty.
УLetТs talk, Michael,Ф the man who called himself Mallory said.
УYes sir.Ф He drew up a chair and sat down with the lamp on a table between them.
MalloryЧnot his real name, but one of manyЧlaughed quietly, the pipeТs bit clenched between his teeth. Firelight glinted in his eyes, and now he didnТt appear nearly as old and unsteady as heТd been when he first entered the house. У СStay in your room,Т Ф he said, and laughed again. His real voice, unmasked, had a gravelly edge. УThat was good, Michael. You scared the balls off that poor Yank.Ф
УDoes he have any?Ф
УOh, heТs quite a capable officer. DonТt let the bluff and bluster fool you; Major Shackleton knows his job.Ф MalloryТs penetrating gaze slid toward the other man. УAnd you do, too.Ф Michael didnТt answer. Mallory smoked his pipe in silence for a moment, then said, УWhat happened to Margritta Phillipe in Egypt wasnТt your fault, Michael. She knew the risks, and she did her job bravely and well. You killed her assassin and exposed Harry Sandler as an agent for the Nazis. You also did your job bravely and well.Ф
УNot well enough.Ф This still made the sick sensation of grief gnaw at his insides. УIf IТd been alert that night, I might have saved MargrittaТs life.Ф
УIt was her time,Ф Mallory said flatly, a statement from a professional in the arena of life and death. УAnd your time of brooding over Margritta should end now.Ф
УWhen I find Sandler.Ф MichaelТs face was tight, and heat rose in his cheeks. УI knew he was a German agent as soon as Margritta showed me the wolf he said heТd sent her from Canada. To me it was perfectly clear it was a Balkan wolf, not Canadian. And the only way Sandler couldТve killed a Balkan wolf was to go on a hunting trip with his Nazi friends.Ф Harry Sandler, the big-game hunter from America whoТd been written about in Life magazine, had vanished after MargrittaТs murder, and left no tracks. УI should have made Margritta leave the house that night. Immediately. Instead IЕФ He clenched his hands on the chairТs armrests. УShe trusted me,Ф he said, in a hushed voice.
УMichael,Ф Mallory said, УI want you to go to Paris.Ф
УIs it that vital that you be involved with this?Ф
УYes. That vital.Ф He puffed smoke and removed the pipe from his mouth. УWeТll have one chance, and one chance only, for the invasion to be successful. The time frame, as of now, is the first week of June. ThatТs subject to change, according to the weather and the tides. We have to make sure ail potential disasters are dealt with, and I can tell you that watching these commanders hash things out leaves a lot of room for the damnedest mistakes you could imagine.Ф He grunted, and smiled thinly. УWe have to do our part to give them a clean house when they move in. If the GestapoТs watching Adam so closely, you can be certain he has information they donТt want getting out. We have to learn what it is. With yourЕ uhЕ special talents, thereТs a possibility you can get in and out under the nose of the Gestapo.Ф
Michael watched the fire. The man sitting in the chair next to him was one of three people in the world who knew he was a lycanthrope.
УThereТs another facet to this you should consider,Ф Mallory said. УFour days ago we received a coded message from our agent Echo, in Berlin. SheТs seen Harry Sandler.Ф
Michael looked into the other manТs face. УSandler was in the company of a Nazi colonel named Jerek Blok, an SS officer, who used to be commandant of Falkenhausen concentration camp near Berlin. So SandlerТs moving in some high circles.Ф
УIs Sandler still in Berlin?Ф
УWe havenТt had word from Echo to indicate otherwise. SheТs keeping watch on him for us.Ф
Michael grunted softly. He had no idea who Echo was, but he remembered SandlerТs ruddy-cheeked face from a Life magazine photograph, grinning as he rested one booted foot on a dead lion on the Kenya grassland.
УWe can get you dossiers on Sandler and Blok, of course,Ф Mallory ventured on. УWe donТt know what their connection might be. Echo would contact you in Berlin. What you might decide to do from there is up to your own discretion.Ф
My discretion, Michael thought. That was a polite way of saying that if he chose to kill Harry Sandler, he would be on his own.
УYour first mission, however, is to find out what Adam knows.Ф Mallory let a trail of smoke trickle from his mouth. УThatТs imperative. You can relay the information through your French contact.Ф