"Дон Пендлтон. The Violent Streets ("Палач" #41) " - читать интересную книгу автора

voice, no expression. She listened to Pol's story.
"What does it mean?" she asked no one in particular.
"Someone is watching Pol," answered Bolan, "or me, or both of us.
Beyond that, it's too early to say."
He hesitated briefly before going on. "I'd like to hear your story
before we try putting the pieces together," he finished at last.
At the first mention of her own story, of her troubles, Toni
Blancanales paled again, seeming to shrivel inward, withdrawing before Mack
Bolan's eyes.
"I don't know how much Rosario has told you," she began at last. "Able
Team does a lot of its regular business here in the Twin Cities. You'd be
surprised how much of the country's big business is transacted right here."
Rosario broke in, trying to help her out. "At last estimate, the area was
tied with San Francisco for seventh place in the nation as a corporate
headquarters site," he said tonelessly.
"You can imagine some of the fierce competition that goes on around
here," continued Toni. "Industrial espionage and occasional sabotage, the
whole bit. Anyway, we've been working a low-level snooping case, possible
pirating of patents, that sort of thing. I had an evening meeting with our
client, to pick up some surveillance equipment and collect the final
installment of our fee."
"When was this?" Bolan asked softly.
Toni paused, thinking.
"Four days ago now," she answered. "God, it seems like a lifetime."
"Go on, kid," the Politician urged gently.
Toni swallowed hard and said, "Okay. I finished the meeting and went
downstairs. The building has one of those underground garages that look like
something from Phantom of the Opera ."
"Anyway, I was stowing our gear in the back seat of my car when this...
this man... grabbed me from behind. I never heard him coming.... I never...
never..."
She stopped, choking on the words, one hand pressed over her mouth as
if she might be ill at any moment. Her dark, hunted eyes stared out through
space toward some invisible focal point, watching the nightmare sequence
unfold again on a silent mental screen.
"I fought him, believe me, but... he was stronger.... He hit me, Mack,
and he forced me into the back seat of the car. He had a knife, and... he
said he'd kill me if I didn't... if I didn't..."
Bolan felt a hard fist clenching in his gut, his gorge rising.
"He tore my blouse," she said, "and then... he... made me undress.
He... he... oh Jesus."
Sobbing raggedly, the young woman was in fierce pain. But something
made her continue, something forced her story to unravel under its own
power.
"When he was finished... somehow I knew that he was going to kill me. I
knew it. He was crazy. I was able... I don't know... somehow I pushed or
kicked him out of the car, and I slammed the door shut. I was so afraid of
passing out from the pain and the bleeding. He was outside, clawing at the
glass like an animal, trying to get in, when... when..."
The words dried up and died. It was as if Toni had lost the thread of