"Дон Пендлтон. The Libya Connection ("Палач" #48) " - читать интересную книгу автораhandle himself."
"Maybe that's it," nodded Kennedy. "He's too cool. Showing up here late. And looking like he's got ice in his veins." "I thought that was the kind of man we wanted here. What is it? You got a gut feeling about the guy?" "Maybe. I don't know. I got a gut feeling that the guy's a pro all right. But not the kind of pro we want. I got the feeling I was being handled out there when I met him." Doyle eyeballed Kennedy keenly. "So what do we do about him? Jericho might not like it if we don't have proof." "We'll give Jericho the next best thing, if I'm right," grunted Kennedy. "What have you got on the other thing?" "I think we got what you wanted," replied Doyle. "It was the guy you had tagged, just like you said. I had two men on his ass and they took him right to the doorstep of a woman we know works for Mossad." "Your men should've dusted him right on the spot and those others with him," grunted Kennedy. He was pacing the office floor restlessly. "Now we've got to deal with him here. Tonight." "My men didn't know they were trailing an Israeli spy," Doyle bristled mildly. "Those were your orders." Kennedy suddenly snapped his fingers, stopped pacing. "Wait a minute. There's a way we can tie these two things together." "I don't get you, Top." Which is why you'll always be a dumb ass kisser and nothing more, phone on the off ice desk. "Here come the orders," said Doyle. Kennedy palmed the receiver. "Yes?" was all he said. "Relax," a voice said. "I've got a scrambler on the line. How are things going there?" The question was asked in an authoritative tone that made it anything but polite conversation. "My men are ready and waiting to move out, Mr. Jericho," said Kennedy crisply. "Waiting on orders from you." "Very good. What about our Israeli problem?" "We've got the man tagged, sir. I'm making plans right now to take him out." "Good. About goddamn time. New developments?" Kennedy was aware that Doyle eyed him closely from across the office. But Kennedy saw no reason to bring up his suspicions concerning Mike Rideout. Kennedy would deal with Rideout at his level. "No, sir. Nothing new. I've got security airtight. It's all running good like I said it would." "Then set a course for the Aujila oasis. That's about thirty minutes flying time. Be there in one hour." Kennedy glanced at his watch. Perfect, he thought. "One hour. Yes, sir. I'll brief the pilots immediately." |
|
|