"Дон Пендлтон. Doomsday Disciples ("Палач" #49) " - читать интересную книгу автора

as he crossed to a bar in the corner of the room and poured himself a drink.
Carter moved toward a chair, thought better of it, and remained standing in
the middle of the room.
"The problem... is it Minh?"
Bolan kept the answer vague, his voice impassive.
"Be careful of adventurism, comrade," he said. "Asians are...
notoriously unreliable."
Carter's frown deepened.
"I believe Minh's committed to the project," he said.
"Granted. But on whose behalf?" The Executioner continued patiently,
"Goals change. A survivor learns to read the signs."
He pinned Carter with his eyes and watched him squirm.
"Are you a survivor, Mihailovich?"
The lawyer found his backbone and met Bolan's eyes, unflinching.
"I'm listening," he said.
Bolan gave the fish some line.
"You've got friends," he said. "They don't want to see you damaged."
Carter gave a jerky nod.
"I appreciate that."
Bolan smiled without warmth.
"They feel you need a helping hand."
Carter saw what was coming now, and he stiffened.
"I organized this project," he said. "Who knows more about it?"
Bolan raised an eyebrow, kept his voice distant.
"The Party knows."
Carter sounded peeved.
"I should have been consulted."
"You've been told," Bolan snapped at him. "If you have some
objection..."
That did it, and the guy's response was hasty.
"No, uh, no." Carter shook his head. "You have to understand..."
Bolan cut him off.
"There isn't any time to waste," he said. "Frankly, I'm surprised to
find you here."
The counselor looked confused.
"Where should I be?" he asked.
"Watching your back, Karpetyan."
"The name's Carter."
Bolan spread his hands.
"Will it matter on a headstone?"
"Now, listen..."
"You're marked," Bolan told him.
"What?"
Carter couldn't seem to grasp his meaning.
"Someone's decided they can do without you. Permanently."
The lawyer's face was working toward a compromise of shock and
disbelief.
"Minh?" he asked.
"You're an obstacle," Bolan said. "He doesn't have time to go around
you."