# Глава Двенадцатая (окончание)

Лев Переводчик Шкловский

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pened to that shitty thing? This is just impossible!"

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Tears were starting to collect at the corners of her

brown eyes. "This is too crazy!" she choked.

"Hey, calm down a minute. Think back to where

you could have lost it."

"It's no good. I don't know how it could have hap-

pened, much less where!"

"Was it when you set the bag down by the news-

stand to talk with me?"

She shook her head angrily. "It's just no good," she

said for the second time.

I kept silent then. Linda sat down on one of wait-

ing-room benches, clasping her hands together and

staring at the floor. Finally, she looked up at me with a

question in her eyes. A question or a plea.

"Well, look," I said, "there's only one thing to do.

Go and find the main checkroom and report that

you've lost your key. They'll come and open it for you.

You even remember the number. It happens all the

time."

"No way. I was just thinking about that. I'd have to

identify the contents of the package before they'd hand

it over to me, in case I was ripping off somebody's

dirty clothes. They'd have to open the package to make

sure."

"So you identify a souvenir ceramic whatchamacallit.

Simple."

"No. Not simple. Remember I told you there was

some that wouldn't fit inside the figurine? About two

hundred grams of it. It's in a little plastic bag inside the

package, together with a roll of medical adhesive tape I

was going to use for—you see?"

"I guess you're right," I said thoughtfully. "Talk

about rotten luck e"

All the while we had been drinking and talking, the

terminal loudspeakers had been mumbling in Spanish

and English, announcing various arrivals, departures,

and delays. Now I caught the garbled voice saying

"Riohacha, Curagao, Port of Spain."

I put my hand on Linda's shoulder and said softly,


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and delays. Now I caught the garbled voice saying

"Riohacha, Curagao, Port Of Spain."

I put my hand on Linda's shoulder and said softly,

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

"I hate to be a bastard, but that's my flight they're an-

nouncing now. I don't know what to say... ."

She looked up and made a brave attempt to smile.

' 'It's okay. You've got to go, I understand. Don't worry

about me. I've still got my ticket—it's in my purse, in-

side the duffel bag—and some money. You're not a

bastard. You're very nice. I'll be all right."

"Sure?"

"Sure. It just takes getting used to, I guess."

That's how I left her, sitting all alone in the empty

row of seats, raising her hand a little feebly as a final

goodbye. I looked back once, then quickened my steps

like anyone who's afraid of missing his plane.

She'd get over it, I told myself as I took my place

behind a half dozen tired businessmen clutching news-

papers to their armpits and briefcases in their hands,

lined up to get their boarding passes. Nothing really

lost but a thousand dollars she'd have to pay back

eventually and a promising start on a life of crime that

might have put her behind bars before morning, when

her plane touched down in Miami. But maybe in the

process she would have learned something about play-

ing with fire. Not so very high a price to pay after all.

At the bottom of the short flight of stairs leading

outside, where a minibus was waiting to bring the hand-

ful of passengers across the field, there was a sign by

the automatic doors in Spanish that said NO SMOKING

BEYOND THIS POINT and below that, a tall metal

ashtray.

The little plastic-gripped key clinked against the

sides as J dropped it into the slot without stopping.


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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Everything was set. The trap was watertight and had

plenty of teeth in it. All I hacfto do now was spring it

on the Russians and get the hell out.

Riohacha was what the guidebooks used to call "a

sleepy little town" of about twenty thousand souls,

filled with real Spanish-colonial architecture—very dif-

ferent from the Southern California version—and more

charm than Charles Boyers In other words, an economi-

caily stagnant backwater keeping itself barely alive on

the proceeds of basket weaving and a few pearl fish-

eries off the coast. Frederick Dey met me there in a

grubby pensiön, a workingman's boarding house run by

an ancient lady and her daughter whom we paid gener-

ously to keep their mouths shut about our strange

presence and our even stranger doings.

All day Friday the drug chief stayed close to the

phone while his agents called in from Bogotå. Cali, and

Popayån far to the south. Every one of Steyer's scat-

tered key lieutenants was being kept under close

twenty-four-hour surveillance. It was strictly a stakeout

job; we had no warrants, no authority, no extradition

requests out on these people, and no business, really,

annoying them, but there was nothing in international

protocol that said we couldn't damn well keep an eye

on them if we wanted. Late in the day reports came in

that two of the top men, a German and a Belgian, had

chartered a plane to bring them to Riohacha. I expect-

ed that they'd head straight for Steyer's private little is-

land kingdom and that I'd be meeting them tomorrow.

It wasn't much of an island, of course. I had sus-

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NICK CARTER: KILLMASTER

pected as much all along. Maybe criminal masterminds

back in the days of Jules Verne could afford them, but

with inflation and property values the way they are

now, habitable real estate surrounded on all sides by

water is more than just expensive, it's impossible to

find. Dey told me that it wasn't really Steyer's, either,

that he'd got it on a fifty-five-year lease from the Col-

ombian government, supposedly to build and develop a

fishing club and watering hole for millionaire anglers.

On the charts it was listed as Cayo Rubio, a narrow

barrier sandpit three miles long by half a mile wide,

running parallel to the coast about two miles out. In

olden times, it had been heavily fortified against Eng-

lish buccaneers, but apparently that hadn't been enough

to stop Sir Francis Drake from burning Riohacha to

the ground in 1580, and the fort had been abandoned

soon after that.

Zero hour was set for sometime around eleven

o'clock Saturday night. My orders to Steyer had been

very precise about the time, vague about everything

else. Make sure that Subarov shows up no earlier than

ten, proceed with business as usual, and leave the rest

to good old American knowhow.

A little after noon on Saturday, Dey left to catch a

plane to Bogotå. We had everything worked out by

that time, and the ball was entirely in my hands from

here on in. Fred—we were on first-name terms by

then—had all the equipment I would need waiting at

the harbor, and we finished off Friday night with two

bottles of rum and a couple hands of gin rummy.

While I dealt, I filled him in on this girl Linda and

what I had done to her and asked for a professional

opinion. He chuckled and said, "I think you were right

in figuring she didn't have a chance of making it

through customs. A young girl traveling alone like you

say, sort of the hippie type and coming direct from a

country that's a maior narcotics source—sure, they'd

take a polite but close second look when she went

through. Young kids, especially, it's incredible how

naive they are."


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na ve

ey are.

PLOT FOR TRE FOURTH REICH

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C 'Would this ceramic thing get by undetected if

somebody else, let's say a little old lady, were carrying

it?"

Dey shook his head. "You've got me there. Off the

record, I'd have to say maybe. You can't search every-

one thoroughly or the lines would stretch all the way to

Texas. I'll tell you what does give us a lot of trouble,

though. It's not the lone-wolf amateurs. They're not

very bright as a rule. Either that, or they get a great

idea and don't stop to think that somebody else proba-

bly thought of the same thing years ago, used it for a

while, and eventually got caught. The pregnant-woman

dodge, for example. Or there was the one where they'd

bring in these straw-wrapped Chianti bottles, anchor

half a pound of smack to the bottom, and fill the rest

up with real wine.

"And it's not so much the professionals any more, at

least when you're talking about customs checks. Most

Of them are hard-core gangsters with long criminal

records. They get too well-known after a while, and we

keep track of all their friends. Things have changed a

lot since we got our information network organized.

Every inspector has a Soundex alert right at his elbow

and can check up on one of these guys in a matter of

seconds.

"What does get us is a combination of the two. The

tricky, knowledgeable professional employing the inno-

cent, cleancut amateur. The trade term for these dupes

is mules. Could be anyone, even a little old lady like

you say who never dreamed of smuggling until one Of

these operators came up and waved a lot of money un-

der her nose. Or it could be someone who doesn't even

know he's being used as a courier. Take this middle-

aged professor from a small Midwestern college we had

once. Five pounds of heroin planted on him, in his

suitcase. A hooker he picked up and brought to his ho-

tel room in Mexico City stashed it there... g"

Dey exhaled a little reminiscent sigh at the thought

of cracking that particular case. "You'd never guess

how wegot on to him...


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PLOT FOR TRE FOURTH REICH

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C 'Would this ceramic thing get by undetected if

somebody else, let's say a little old lady, were carrying

it?"

Dey shook his head. "You've got me there. Off the

record, I'd have to say maybe. You can't search every-

one thoroughly or the lines would stretch all the way to

Texas. I'll tell you what does give us a lot of trouble,

though. It's not the lone-wolf amateurs. They're not

very bright as a rule. Either that, or they get a great

idea and don't stop to think that somebody else proba-

bly thought of the same thing years ago, used it for a

while, and eventually got caught. The pregnant-woman

dodge, for example. Or there was the one where they'd

bring in these straw-wrapped Chianti bottles, anchor

half a pound of smack to the bottom, and fill the rest

up with real wine.

"And it's not so much the professionals any more, at

least when you're talking about customs checks. Most

Of them are hard-core gangsters with long criminal

records. They get too well-known after a while, and we

keep track of all their friends. Things have changed a

lot since we got our information network organized.

Every inspector has a Soundex alert right at his elbow

and can check up on one of these guys in a matter of

seconds.

"What does get us is a combination of the two. The

tricky, knowledgeable professional employing the inno-

cent, cleancut amateur. The trade term for these dupes

is mules. Could be anyone, even a little old lady like

you say who never dreamed of smuggling until one Of

these operators came up and waved a lot of money un-

der her nose. Or it could be someone who doesn't even

know he's being used as a courier. Take this middle-

aged professor from a small Midwestern college we had

once. Five pounds of heroin planted on him, in his

suitcase. A hooker he picked up and brought to his ho-

tel room in Mexico City stashed it there... g"

Dey exhaled a little reminiscent sigh at the thought

of cracking that particular case. "You'd never guess

how wegot on to him...


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PLOT FOR THE FOURTH REICH

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had never said a word about this new angle, though

he'd had plenty of chance to get in touch if he'd

wanted to. That's my boss for you. He would never

give orders to one of his agents—no matter from how

far on high they originated—if he thought the end

didn't justify the added risk. An election year! No,

Hawk would sit on the orders and leave it in my hands,

to play it as it had to be played. And if there came a

time for excuses to be made, he'd take the rap by him-

self.

That was the thought that stayed humming in my

mind, hours later, when I dragged the little three-meter

Zodiac inflatable dinghy to the deserted stretch of

beach and pushed it into the quiet, lapping water. I

apologized to the old boy, by telepathy, for all the

times I've thought him a heartless, inhuman bastard at

his job with no redeeming qualities. I'd have to retract

the part about no redeeming qualities. I lowered the

little six-horsepower from Release to Lock and

squeezed the little black-rubber bulb a few times to

prime the gas line. It started on the first pull, and I

eased her gently into gear. Dey had taken care of hunt-

ing up this deserted beach and doing the logistics work;

he was sure no one would be around to hear the noise.

I believed him and didn't bother checking now:

The breeze was up, the moon was down, the stars

were out, and the mission was on—at last. A good,

edgy feeling told me that this was going to be it. The

final showdown. A few dozen yards out from shore the

little rubber boat wallowed and plunged through the

low breakers coming in, but it was smooth and easy

going from then on. Like careering over a plush, deep

feather bed. My nostrils filled with the clean smell of

open sea, and I held it in my lungs for a long, invigo-

rating minute.

Half an hour later—ten minutes ahead of the forty

I'd allowed myself—the western snout of Cayo Rubio

loomed dead ahead. As I approached, a fringe of palm

trees came into sight, set back from the tapered triangle

of beach. Well, if you're going to own an island all to

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ГЛАВА ДВЕНАДЦАТАЯ (окончание)


...Я положил руку Линде на плечо и мягко сказал: — Не хочется быть гадом, но это мой рейс объявляют. Я даже не знаю, что сказать...


Она подняла глаза и храбро попыталась улыбнуться. — Всё в порядке. Вам нужно лететь, я понимаю. Не беспокойтесь обо мне. У меня есть билет — он в кошельке, внутри мешка, — и немного денег. Вы не гад. Вы очень милый. Со мной всё будет хорошо. — Уверена? — Уверена. Наверное, к этому просто нужно привыкнуть.


Так я её и оставил — одиноко сидящей в пустом ряду кресел. Она слабо помахала мне рукой на прощание. Я оглянулся лишь раз, а затем ускорил шаг, как любой, кто боится опоздать на самолет.


«Она перебьет это», — твердил я себе, занимая очередь за полдюжиной усталых бизнесменов с газетами под мышками и портфелями в руках. По сути, она потеряла лишь тысячу долларов, которую со временем придется отдать, и лишилась «перспективного» старта преступной карьеры, который мог бы упрятать её за решетку уже утром, когда самолет приземлится в Майами. Зато, возможно, в процессе она усвоила урок: не стоит играть с огнем. Не такая уж высокая цена, если подумать.


У подножия короткой лестницы, ведущей на летное поле к микроавтобусу, висела табличка на испанском: «КУРИТЬ ЗА ПРЕДЕЛАМИ ЭТОЙ ТОЧКИ ЗАПРЕЩЕНО», а под ней стояла высокая металлическая пепельница.


Маленький ключ с пластиковой головкой звякнул о стенки, когда я, не останавливаясь, бросил его в прорезь.

ГЛАВА ТРИНАДЦАТАЯ


Всё было готово. Ловушка была герметичной и с очень острыми зубами. Теперь мне оставалось только захлопнуть её, поймав русских, и убраться к чертям.


Риоача была тем, что путеводители называют «сонным городишком»: около двадцати тысяч душ, настоящая испанская колониальная архитектура (сильно отличающаяся от калифорнийских подделок) и больше шарма, чем у Шарля Буайе. Иными словами — экономически застойное захолустье, едва выживающее за счет плетения корзин и добычи жемчуга. Фредерик Дэй встретил меня там в захудалом пансионе — рабочем общежитии, которым заправляла старушка с дочерью. Мы щедро заплатили им за молчание о нашем странном присутствии и еще более странных делах.


Всю пятницу шеф наркоконтроля не отходил от телефона, пока его агенты докладывали из Боготы, Кали и Попаяна. За каждым из ключевых помощников Штайера было установлено круглосуточное наблюдение. Это была чистая слежка: у нас не было ни ордеров, ни полномочий на их арест, и, строго говоря, нам не следовало их беспокоить. Но в международном протоколе нет ни слова о том, что мы не можем присматривать за ними, если нам того хочется. К вечеру поступили сообщения, что двое топ-менеджеров, немец и бельгиец, зафрахтовали самолет до Риоачи. Я ожидал, что они направятся прямиком в маленькое островное королевство Штайера, где я и встречу их завтра.


Остров, конечно, был так себе. Я догадывался об этом. Возможно, злые гении времен Жюля Верна могли себе позволить роскошные острова, но при нынешней инфляции жилая недвижимость, окруженная водой со всех сторон, — это не просто дорого, это почти нереально. Дэй рассказал, что остров технически не принадлежит Штайеру — он взял его в аренду на 55 лет у колумбийского правительства под предлогом строительства рыболовного клуба для миллионеров.


На картах он значился как Кайо-Рубио — узкая песчаная коса длиной в три мили и шириной в полмили, идущая параллельно берегу в двух милях от него. В старину он был укреплен против английских буканиров, но форт не спас Риоачу от сожжения сэром Фрэнсисом Дрейком в 1580 году и вскоре был заброшен.


«Час икс» был назначен на одиннадцать вечера субботы. Мои указания Штайеру были предельно точны по времени и туманны во всём остальном. «Сделай так, чтобы Субаров появился не раньше десяти, веди дела как обычно, а остальное предоставь старому доброму американскому ноу-хау».


В субботу около полудня Дэй улетел в Боготу. К тому времени мы всё продумали, и дальше мяч был полностью на моей стороне. Фред (к тому времени мы были на «ты») оставил мне в гавани всё необходимое снаряжение. Вечер пятницы мы закончили двумя бутылками рома и парой партий в джин-рамми.


Пока я сдавал карты, я рассказал ему о Линде и о том, что я с ней сделал, и спросил его профессиональное мнение. Он усмехнулся: — Думаю, ты прав — у неё не было ни единого шанса пройти таможню. Молодая девчонка, путешествующая в одиночку, тип «хиппи», летит прямым рейсом из страны — главного поставщика наркотиков... О, они бы устроили ей вежливый, но очень тщательный досмотр. Поразительно, насколько наивны нынешние дети. — А эта керамическая штуковина могла бы проскочить, если бы её вез кто-то другой, скажем, божий одуванчик — бабуля? Дэй покачал головой: — Тут ты меня поймал. Не для протокола: может быть. Нельзя же обыскивать каждого до трусов, иначе очереди растянутся до Техаса. Но знаешь, кто доставляет нам больше всего проблем? Не одиночки-любители — они, как правило, не блещут умом. Или придумывают «гениальную» идею, не подозревая, что кто-то додумался до этого тридцать лет назад, попался и сел. Например, уловка с «беременной». Или бутылки из-под Кьянти, где на дне полфунта «герыча», а сверху залито вино.


— Настоящая проблема — это когда профи использует наивного любителя. На нашем жаргоне таких называют «мулами». Это может быть кто угодно — та же бабуля, которой предложили кучу денег. Или человек, который даже не знает, что он курьер. Был у нас случай с профессором из колледжа: пять фунтов героина в чемодане. Проститутка, которую он снял в Мехико, подкинула их ему... — Дэй с ностальгией вздохнул. — Никогда не угадаешь, как мы на него вышли...


...Хоук ни словом не обмолвился об этом новом «политическом» нюансе (предвыборный год в США), хотя у него была масса возможностей. Таков мой босс. Он никогда не отдаст приказ агенту — неважно, насколько высоко этот приказ родился, — если считает, что риск не оправдывает цель. Предвыборный год! Нет, Хоук просто придержал приказ и оставил всё в моих руках, чтобы я играл так, как нужно. А если придет время оправдываться — он возьмет весь удар на себя.


Эта мысль крутилась у меня в голове спустя несколько часов, когда я тащил трехметровую надувную лодку «Зодиак» по пустынному пляжу и сталкивал её в тихую воду. Я мысленно извинился перед стариком Хоуком за все те разы, когда считал его бессердечным и бесчеловечным ублюдком. Часть про «отсутствие достоинств» придется забрать назад. Я опустил мотор мощностью в шесть лошадиных сил, подкачал топливо резиновой грушей. Мотор завелся с первой попытки. Дэй нашел этот безлюдный пляж и подготовил логистику; он был уверен, что шум никто не услышит. Я ему верил.


Бриз окреп, луна скрылась, звезды сияли — миссия наконец началась. Хорошее, острое предчувствие подсказывало: это оно. Финальная схватка. В нескольких десятках ярдов от берега резиновая лодка заплясала на низких волнах прибоя, но дальше пошла ровно и легко, словно по глубокой перине. Ноздри наполнились чистым запахом открытого моря, и я вдыхал его целую минуту, чувствуя прилив сил.


Через полчаса — на десять минут раньше срока — впереди по курсу вырос западный мыс Кайо-Рубио. По мере приближения стали видны пальмы, стоящие за сужающимся треугольником пляжа. Что ж, если уж владеть собственным островом... [Конец страницы]