"S. Andrew Swann - Zimmerman's Algorithm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swann S Andrew)

million dollars?"
"Based on my prior experience with him, I thought he was credible. He had no reason to make up
something like that."
"No one else seems to have shared your view."
"That was why we were aloneтАФ"
"Why didn't you call for backup when you decided to go into the building?"
"By then I suspect we didn't believe Lionel either. It was after midnight and since no pickup had shown
for the computer, we didn't expect to find anything."
"Now let me see if you can walk us through what happened, step by stepтАФ"
That was what they did, in excruciating detail. Gideon felt as if every step he took had half a dozen
questions attachedтАФ Why did he do this? Why didn't he do that?
It seemed to be hours before they reached the ambush that had taken Rafe's life.
"Now," the prosecutor asked Gideon, "what were Agent Malcolm's words as he turned toward the
light?"
"He said, 'FBI, freeze.' "
"He was holding his gun at the time?"
"Yes."
"It was then that the shooting began?"
"Yes."
"As he spoke?"
"Maybe during, things were going fastтАФ"
"During?"
Gideon nodded.
"Did you both return fire?"
"I did, I'm not sure about Raphael. I think the first shot hit him before he could do anything."
The prosecutor shuffled his papers and looked back up at Gideon, "I think that's about it."
"ButтАФ"
"Thank you," said the prosecutor.
Gideon didn't have a chance to object; they were already bringing in the next witness. He stood up, and
seemed to feel the world lurch underneath him. The prosecutor hadn't asked him anything about the men
who'd shot at them. Gideon had no chance to mention silenced weapons. . .
As he walked out of the room, he couldn't help thinking that there was something very wrong going on.


A gentle snow was drifting down on Washington as Senator Daniel Tenroyan was taking his regular
lunchtime stroll around the Mall. It had been three years since a triple bypass, and he had become religious
about his exercise. Every day that Congress was in session, he made two complete circuits around the Mall
during his lunch hour.
He was passing the baroque pile of stone that housed part of the Smithsonian when he noticed someone
sitting on a bench about thirty feet away, watching him intently. At first Tenroyan thought it was one of the
homeless people that dotted the landscape in D.C. But as Tenroyan approached, and the man stood,
Tenroyan recognized him.
"D'Arcy?" Tenroyan said.
Another step and he was certain. He was facing Emmit D'Arcy, President Rayburn's national security
advisor. The last time he had seen D'Arcy, it had been from across the table at a Senate Intelligence
Committee briefing.
The short man pushed his glasses back on his nose and said, "Let's walk for a while."
Tenroyan felt uncomfortable next to D'Arcy. The man had the reputation of being the most active
proponent of black covert operations since William Casey. Tenroyan had gained a deep distrust of such
things back when he was a Congressman and had served on the House-Senate Committees for