"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 026 - The Spook Legion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

THE pilot used his own car, an open touring, and he got behind the wheel, designating the task of
guarding the fat man to the assistant pilot. The latter was husky, and he had a gun.

тАЬI thought for a while that you were nuts,тАЭ he advised their guest. тАЬBut now you seem all right. Just keep
in mind that if you try any funny business I'm liable to blow holes in you.тАЭ

тАЬEven riding in a car makes me airsick, or seasick, or landsick, or whatever it is, sometimes,тАЭ said the fat
man.

тАЬYou'd better hope this is not one of the times,тАЭ the other told him.

They drove out of the airport.

The prizefighter individual had been loitering, but now he came to life, striding out onto the gravel area
where the cars were parked. He paused beside a machine which was empty. This was a coup├й. The
windows were up. The man's hand made a series of lightning-fast gestures, as if he were writing on one
of the windows.

There was, however, no visible mark on the window when he walked on.

The pugilistic-looking one got into a roadster. This machine was long, sombre, a vehicle designed to
escape notice, to merge unobtrusively with other traffic. On this car, too, a close examination would have
shown tires filled with particularly soft sponge rubber, tires which could not be punctured readily with
bullets, and an enormous motor, along with armor plate and glass which could not be penetrated by
ordinary bullets.

The roadster raced out of the parking lot, the grind of its tires on the gravel almost its only sound, and
speeded after the touring car bearing the two fliers and the fat man who had fired the mysterious shots in
the plane.

The two men who had been waiting, and occasionally using the binoculars, in the small car, now whipped
open a door of the machine and alighted.

The first to appear had an astounding physique. His height was little greater than that of a boy in his early
teens, but he had shoulders, arms, a bull neck that a professional wrestler would have envied. His head
was a nubbin with an enormous slash for a mouth and eyes like small, bright beads sunken in deep pits of
gristle. Reddish hair only slightly less coarse than rusty shingle nails, covered his frame. A stranger would
not have to encounter the man in a very dark alley to think he had met a bull ape.
The second man was slender, with lean hips and an hour-glass waist. His not unhandsome face was
notable for its large orator's mouth. The man was attired to sartorial perfection; his frock coat, afternoon
trousers, gray vest and silk topper left nothing to be desired. The costume was set off perfectly by the
slender black cane which he carried.

The man who was a fashion plate wheeled to get a small leather case from the car.

тАЬHurry up, Ham,тАЭ the apish individual urged. He had a tiny voice which was reminiscent of a small child
talking.

тАЬHamтАЭтАФBrigadier General Theodore Marley BrooksтАФthe dressed-up one, got the case. It was about