"Destroyer - 018 - Funny Money" - читать интересную книгу автора (Murphy Warren)

"Right," said the supervisor. "He's willing to swap the gravure plates for them. Twelve fifteen tonight on the corner of Sebastian and Randolph. That's the mockup of the corner. Our friends will tell you what takes place there. Your job primarily is to make sure the gravure plates are valid."

Castellano saw a gray-suited man with immaculately groomed hair at the corner of the mockup signal him with a blackboard pointer to come closer. Castellano went to the model and felt like God looking down at a little San Diego street corner.

"I am Group Leader Francis Forsythe. You will identify the plates on the corner. The man you will meet will be identifying the computer program. You will not leave the light of that corner with the plates. You will be picked up by an armored car. You are not to leave anyone's sight with those plates. Should the contact attempt to retrieve the plates for any reason whatsoever, you are authorized to kill said contact. Are you weapons-familiar?"

"I've got a .38 here."

"When was the last time you used it?"

"Nineteen fifty-three or -four."

"That's wonderful, Castellano. Well, just put it in the contact's face and pull the trigger hard and often if he tries something. Let me warn you again. You are not to leave that corner with the plates under possibilityЕ no, make that probability of death."

"You'd shoot me if I disappeared with the plates?"

"With pleasure," said Forsythe and gave the street corner a tap with his pointer.

"Well, I wasn't going anywhere anyhow. What good would the plates be to me? I don't have access to this guy's paper source. What would I print queer on? Paper towels?" asked Castellano.

"It'll take paper towels to pick you up if you try to leave that corner," said Forsythe.

"You must be CIA," said Castellano. "Nobody else on this earth is that stupid."

"Let's calm down," said the district supervisor. "Jim, this plate process is so important it's more than just a counterfeit. It could literally wreck our country. That's why everything is so tight. Please try to cooperate and understand, okay, Jim? This is more than just another bogus bill. Okay?"

Castellano nodded a tired acquiescence. He saw the man with the red leather case come to the table. Forsythe's pointer came down on a rooftop.

"This is our primary sniper post and this man will man it. It has the least obstruction and best view. Show Mr. Castellano your weapon."

Castellano watched the fingers work the combination on the red leather case so quickly no one could get a track on it. The case snapped open, revealing a fine-tooled thick rifle barrel and a metal stock set in red velvet. There were eight two-inch-long stainless steel cartridges, each tipped with a white metal substance that appeared to have been sharpened. Castellano had never seen cartridges that thin. They were like swizzle sticks.

The rifleman snapped his weapon together and Castellano saw that the very thick barrel had a very thin opening. The tolerance in the boring of that weapon, thought Castellano, must be incredible.

"I can pop out the iris of an eye at fifty yards," said the rifleman. "This is the weapon. I saw you notice the bullets. They are designed to disintegrate when they hit metal of any sort so we don't go damaging your plates or any machinery. They will kill very nicely, however. They penetrate skin and are curare tipped, so if you see a little pinprick on your contact's face, or hear a little sort of slap, you will know your man is in the process of dying. I do not need a second shot. So once I get him, don't you go running anywhere."

"Just thought you should know that he's the one who's going to stop you if you decide to move anywhere with the plates," said Forsythe.

"You make me root for the other side," Castellano said and was surprised to hear several of the men carrying M-16s burst into laughter. But when he looked over for expressions of support to accompany the laughter, the men turned away their eyes.

He was shown the street corner again, where he would stand, and given a gray felt-wrapped box.

"And don't forget. Try to keep the contact between you and the primary sniper. He's our best."

The man with the peculiar fat-barreled, thin-bore rifle nodded curtly.

"When you are sure you have the right goods, fall down," said the sniper. "Just collapse and keep the plates protected by your body."

"I'm setting up somebody for a kill?" asked Castellano.