"& Dirgo, Craig - Dirk Pitt - Clive Cussler and Dirk Pitt Revealed (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cussler Clive)

"One of my guests noticed one of his tires was flat when he arrived, soI changed it for him."

"Saint Dirk to the rescue."

"That's me," Pitt said jovially, "the salvation of lost animals andlittle old ladies who need to cross streets."

"You wouldn't be Dirk Pitt if you didn't betray a hint of compassion nowand then."

Pitt looked at the older man steadily. "Why is it that when we meet I'mnever supposed to remember who you are?"

"Because I plan it that way. It wouldn't do for us to become bosombuddies like you and Giordino. Better I make an occasional appearanceto set you back on course before quietly exiting stage right."

"I'm not sure I appreciate all you put me through.

I have more scars, physical and mental, than I care to count."

"Adventure takes its toll on heroes and villains," said the gray-hairedman philosophically.

"That's easy for you to say. I hope I fare better in the nextadventure."

"One only knows where the plot will take us."

"Will there be a next time? I hear talk of you retiring."

"The thought has crossed my mind. I'm finding it more difficult to becreative as the years pass."

"A lot of people are counting on us," Pitt said sincerely.

The gray-haired man's face had a sad look to it. it was almost as if hehated to leave. "Good-bye, Dirk Pitt. Until we meet again."

"Good-bye, Clive Cussler. Stay healthy, and never age."

Cussler laughed. "That's certainly something you'll never have to worryabout. When we started out together, we were the same age. And nowlook at us."

They shook hands. Then Cussler closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he found himself standing on the empty roadbeneath the solitary light pole.

The hangar, the people, the cars were all gone, vanished as though theyhad never existed.

Within five minutes the cabbie returned and picked him up. Pulling thedoor closed, Cussler settled back into the seat as his mind traveledback over the years to 1965, when he first sat down at a typewriter.

He and his friends from the hangar had traveled every corner of theearth and weathered every adventure conceivable. The torment, actionand joy they had experienced were legendary. The people they had alltouched numbered in the millions. Perhaps it was time for a break, hethought. Maybe retirement was not such a bad idea after all.

"Where to?" asked the driver.

"The airport terminal. United Airlines. It's time for me to go home."

Shifting the cab into drive, the cabbie pulled onto the main roadleading to the security gate. The harvest moon had risen, and asCussler turned and looked back, he recreated the illusion of Pitt'shangar in his mind. No, he couldn't retire. Already the plot for thenext Pitt adventure was forming in his mind.