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

. . ."
"I know," Gideon said, the smile slipping on his face. Not since Dad died. He stood there for a few
moments, unsure exactly what to say. For some reason, his older brother's presence here, now, made him
uneasy. "So where are the rest?" Gideon asked.
"Ahh . . ." Now it was Raphael's turn to look uneasy.
"Come on, I told you what I needed on the phone. I called you because I thought I'd get a hearing and
less interagency bullshit."
Raphael motioned to Gideon's chair and said, "Well, there's good news and bad news."
Gideon felt his heart sinking as he settled back into the chair.
Raphael perched on the edge of the desk. "Here's the bad news. There is no one else. The lead you
have is not enough for the Agency to commit any resources. There aren't enough agents to go around, and
there are already fifty or so working other angles of this Daedalus case."
Gideon shook his head. "I didn't know why I bothered thinking they might be more help than my own
department. Sorry I wasted your timeтАФ"
"You're forgetting the good news."
"Yeah, what?"
"You got me." Raphael smiled at him. "I couldn't pull you a team, like you wanted, but I did get
permission come down here myself as an official Bureau observer."
"Observing what?"
"What you got?"
Gideon picked up the warrant. "Like I told you over the phone, what I have is an informant named
Lionel, and an address."
Raphael nodded. "And you're wondering why the Bureau is reluctant to spend manpower on the word
of a two-bit crackhead?".
Gideon chuckled and shook his head, "No, Rafe, I already went through this with my Captain. Why did
you think I called you and not the District Liaison? I am sort of curious why you came downтАФeveryone
else seems convinced that this isn't going anywhere."
"You have to admit, the Daedalus theft seems out of your guy's league."
Gideon nodded. "In Captain Davis' words, 'He probably saw the damn thing on Nightline.' So why are
you here?"
"You seem convinced the lead's genuine."
Gideon picked up the warrant and grabbed his overcoat. "I know this much. Lionel might be a
small-time street-level dealer, but so much illegal shit happens around him that he's never had to make up
tips before. He's getting the same consideration from me if he's telling me about a fifty-million dollar
computer or if he's telling me who jacked a car last week."
Raphael slapped him on the back as he slipped on his coat. "The same consideration?"
Gideon looked at his brother and gave him an embarrassed half grin. "Okay, I gave the boy an extra
fifty."
Raphael laughed, "Bro, you been conned."
"So they tell me." He started walking past the other desks and said, "Come on, let's get some dinner. I
want to get on this stakeout by nine."


As midnight approached, Gideon and Raphael sat in a ten-year-old Dodge sedan about half a block
away from an empty office building just the District side of the Maryland border. Most major city police
departments had newer cars for their detectives, but most major cities weren't in the constant financial
crisis D.C. was.
Gideon sat in the driver's seat, pointing a pair of binoculars at the building. They'd kept a low profile by
shutting the car off, so the only heat came from the open thermos of stale coffee that sat on the seat
between them. It didn't do much, because they'd opened the windows to keep the windshield from fogging