"Destroyer 022 - Brain Drain.pdb" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Remo)

When he felt his body slip away as if he were floating under a sparkling lake, he heard cars screeching and police sirens. But that was far away. He was in a truck and the doors were shut behind him, because it was black all around him. Or was that because he could not see ?
When the lights came, the very harsh lights that even shone into his bandaged eye like leaves of exploding orange, he heard no more cars. He smelled oil nearby and heard the sound of the sea coming up against rocks. His shoulder burned again.
"Well, Doctor Smith, I see that you are in pain." The voice sounded like the nurse. It was very flat. Smith could not see where it came from.
"Yes. Who are you? What am I doing here?"
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"You are here to answer questions."
"I'll tell you anything," said Smith. "Why did you move me, though?"
"To get the truth, Wasp."
"What wouldn't I tell you, Nurse?"
"We will see. Now what nationality is Remo?"
"Who?"
"Remo. Your man. I know that Chiun, the aged one, is Korean, But what is Remo?"
"Remo who? Chiun who?"
The pain was sudden, like flesh being peeled by white-hot irons. Smith screamed.
"I'll tell you. Stop. Please, stop."
"Do you remember Remo and Chiun ?"
"Yes, I know Remo and Chiun."
"Good. What nationality is Remo ?"Х
"I don't know. I swear. He just sells us insurance at Folcroft Sanitarium."
The pain came again, gagging Smith with his own screams.
"All right, all right: We're CIA, Remo and I and Chiun. CIA. An intelligence center. We gather information on shipping and grain and ..."
Someone seemed to be digging in Smith's chest with sandpaper tools. He passed out. Then the lights came again.
"All right." The flat voice. "Let us try again. Now I know you are protecting something, and I understand why. But it is not you or your organization I am after. I am after a more even chance with Remo and Chiun. All I want to do is survive. I cannot survive with your man in the world. I can offer you a replacement for him if you wish, one who is almost
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as good, perhaps better. Myself. But you must cooperate."
"All right, but not in the chest again, please."
"You will find me very reasonable," the nurse said.
"We don't know for sure what nationality Remo is. He was an orphan."
"An orphan?"
"Yes."
"What is an orphan?"
"That's a person without parents."
"But a child cannot bear itself or rear itself. It cannot even walk until after one year of age."
"He was raised by nuns in an orphanage."
"Where did he learn to do what he can do?"
"In the orphanage," Smith lied.
"Who in the orphanage taught him ?"
"The nuns."
The pain was protracted this time.
"Chiun taught him," yelled Smith. "The Korean."
"And what of Chiun?"
"He is the Master of Sinanju," said Smith.
"They are teachers?"
"No."
"Good answer. What are they ?"
"They are assassins," Smith said. "Sinanju is a small village in Korea near China. It is the sun source of all the martial arts. The masters, for centuries, have rented out their services to support the people of the village."
"What services?"
"They are assassins. They sell their services. Kings, pharaohs, czars, dictators, presidents, chairmen, all hire them at times."
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"Could I buy Chiun's services?"