"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 005 - Pirate of the Pacific" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

The cab halted before the most impressive building in the city. This skyscraper stabbed upward, a great
white thorn of brick and steel, nearly a hundred stories.

Few people were on the sidewalk at this hour. But those who were, stopped and openly stared, such a
striking figure did Doc Savage present. The big bronze man was a sensation wherever he went.

Doc and his five men rode an express elevator to the eighty-sixth floor of the skyscraper. Here Doc had
his New York headquarters - a richly furnished office, one of the most complete libraries of technical and
scientific tomes in existence, and an elaborately equipped chemical and electrical laboratory.

Doc had a second headquarters, fitted with another library and laboratory which were the most complete
in existence. This, however, was at a spot he called his "Fortress of Solitude." No one knew its
whereabouts. To this retreat Doc went at frequent intervals for the periods of intense study to which he
devoted himself. At such times he vanished as completely as though he had dropped from the earth. No
one could get in touch with him.

It was these periodic disappearances, as much as anything else, which had given Doc repute as a man of
mystery.

MONK planted his furry bulk on a costly inlaid table in the office and began rolling himself a cigarette.

"Did you make arrangements by radio about the treasure?" he asked Doc. "I mean - about what the
money is to be used for."

"That's all taken care of," the bronze man assured him.
They knew what that meant. The money was to be spent enlarging a weird institution which Doc
maintained in upstate New York - a place where Doc sent all the criminals he captured. There, the
lawbreakers underwent an amazing treatment in which their brains were operated upon and all memory
of their past wiped out. Then they received training which turned them into useful citizens.

This unusual institution was Doc's own idea. He never sent a criminal to prison. They all went to the
institution, to be operated upon by specialists whom Doc had trained. They were turned loose entirely
reformed men - they didn't know they had ever been crooks.

"It's a little stuffy in here," complained Ham.

He crossed over and threw up the window. He stood there for a moment, staring at the impressive
panorama of New York City spread out below. Then he turned away.

A moment later, a slate-colored pigeon fluttered up and landed on the window ledge. Doc and his men
paid no particular heed. Pigeons were plentiful around the skyscrapers.

"What's our next move?" Ham wanted to know.

"You fellows scatter and attend to such of your private business as needs it," Doc suggested. "We've
been gone several weeks, and no telling what we're headed for now. It may last longer."

"I got a secretary who takes care of my business," homely Monk grinned. "Better let me go with you,
Doc."