"143 (B094) - Violent Night (The Hate Genius) (1945-01) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)THE HATE GENIUS
A Doc Savage Adventure by Kenneth Robeson (Originally published as "Violent Night" in "Doc Savage Magazine" January 1945. Reprinted as "The Hate Genius" by Bantam Books, June 1979.) -------------------------- To the world at large, Doc Savage is a strange, mysterious figure of glistening bronze skin and golden eyes. To his amazing co-adventurers -- the five greatest brains ever assembled in one group -- he is a man of superhuman strength and protean genius, whose life is dedicated to the destruction of evil-doers. To his fans he is the greatest adventure hero of all time, whose fantastic exploits are unequaled for hair-raising thrills, breathtaking escapes and bloodcurdling excitement. WANTED -- ADOLF HITLER! World War II is drawing to a close. Hitler rigs an assassination of a look-alike double in a daring plot to save his ruined Reich -- then disappears. America call on its greatest hero -- Doc Savage -- to track down this most evil of adversaries and stop the phony martyrdom. Joining him in this last-ditch crusade area a wide assortment of Allied agents -- one of whom may be the fleeing Fuehrer himself! ------------------------ I IT came as soon as he saw Lisbon. The feeling of being afraid. There had been fog, a slate-colored depressing fog around the Clipper during the last five hundred miles of flying; and the plane popped out of it suddenly into bright sunlight. And there directly below was their destination, Lisbon, the westernmost of Europe's capitals. With its white houses and colored tile roofs and parks and gardens, fronting on the Rada de Lisboa. With its eleven-by-seven mile lake made by the widening of the Tagus river. He had expected to be afraid as soon as he saw Lisbon, and what he felt wasn't too bad, so he was relieved. Not much relieved, though. The plane began circling. He suspected something was wrong. Looking down, he could see the Castello de San Jorge on its rocky hill in the Alfama district And suddenly he realized that he could recall with an unnatural clarity the exact appearance of the ancient Castello de San Jorge. There was no reason for such an abrupt and striking memory, except nerves. He frowned down at the old citadel, which dominated the Alfama section, containing one of the nastiest slums in Europe. There was no use kidding himself. Nerves. He was having the jitters. As badly as he had expected to have them. |
|
|