"Andre Norton - Crosstime 2 - Crossroads of Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

The last time that feeling had driven him into Molly's bedroom and his

painful discovery there. Now it was urgently pushing him toward the hall.
He listened, knowing of old that there was really nothing to hearЧthis he
could only feel. Then, with quiet cat's feet, he went to the hall door without
snapping on the room light.
With infinite caution he turned the key and eased the door open. He
had no idea of what waited on the other sideЧhe only knew that some
action was being so forceably demanded of him that he could not disobey
even if he wished.
For one moment he. stared. Two men stood, their backs toward him,
one behind the other. A tall man wearing a loose coat, his dark hair still
glistening with the sheen of sleet, was fitting a key into the door on the
opposite, side of the corridor. His companion held a gun jammed against
his back.
Blake, his bare feet making no sound on the carpet, moved. His fingers
locked about the gunman's throat and he jerked the fellow's head back.
Instantly the other man whirled. Almost, Blake thought, as if he had
known what was about to happen. His fist swung up and connected with
just the right point on the threshing captive's jaw; then Blake was
supporting the full weight of an unconscious man. But the other took hold,
waving Blake back into his room, following him quickly, the prize in tow.
Once inside he dropped his burden to the floor without ceremony and
locked the door.
With a doubt or two, Blake sat down on the edge of the bed. Why so
little fuss on the part of the suddenly released prisoner? And why come in
here with the captive?
"PoliceЧЧЧ?" His hand went to the phone on the bedside table.
The tall man turned. He brought out a wallet and flipped it open for
Blake to read the card inside. Then the younger man nodded.
"No police?"
The other shook his head. "Not yet. Sorry to barge in on you,
Mr.ЧMr.?"
"Walker."

"Mr. Walker. You helped me out of a tight hole there. But I'll have to
ask you to let me handle this my own way. We won't bother you for long."
"I'll finish dressing," Blake got up.
The Federal Agent was squatting on his heels by the slumbering
gunman. And Blake was knotting his tie when a scene, reflected in the
mirror, drew him back to the bedroom. The self-introduced Kittson was
searching his unconscious prisoner and the oddness of that search
intrigued Blake.
Slowly the Federal man ran his fingers through the oily hair of the
other, apparently in quest of something on the skull beneath. Then with a
pencil flash he examined both ears and nostrils. Last of all he explored the
gunman's half open mouth, withdrawing a dental plate. He made no
sound but Blake sensed his triumph as he freed from underside of the
plastic denture a small disc which he wrapped in his handkerchief and
stowed away in an inner pocket.