"Harry Harrison - Rebel in Time" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Harry)

McCulloch did not look back as they drove away.
At the car he unlocked the boot while the jeep turned and vanished back down the lane. He took off his
coat and threw it into the boot. He was wearing his uniform underneath. It was empty of all decorations
and identifying insignia, other than the silver eagles on his shoulders. He reached into the boot again and
took out his uniform cap, settled it firmly on his head, then took out a black attaché case as well before
slamming the lid shut. A few minutes later he was on MacArthur Boulevard driving south towards the
District.

It was a short ride. A few miles down the road he turned into a large shopping centre, where he parked
close to a branch of the DC National Bank. He locked the car and went into the bank, taking the attaché
case with him. It was a brief visit. He emerged less than ten minutes later, got into his car and drove
away—watched most carefully by the man in the black Impala that was parked two rows away. The
man raised a microphone and spoke into it.

'Able One to Able Two. George is now leaving the lot and turning south on MacArthur. He's yours now.
Over.'

'Will do. Out.'

The man replaced the microphone on the dash and got out of the car. He was lean and blond and
unremarkably dressed in a grey suit, white shirt and dark tie. He entered the bank and crossed to the
receptionist.

'My name is Ripley,' he said. 'I would like to see the manager. About some investments.'

'Of course, Mr Ripley.' She picked up the phone. 'I'll see if Mr Bryce is free.'

The manager stood up from behind the desk and shook his hand when he entered the office. 'Mr Ripley.
Now just what can I do to help you?'

'This is a government matter, sir. Would you please look at my identification.'

He took a leather wallet from his breast pocket, opened it and passed it across the desk. Bryce looked
at the gold badge and the accompanying card behind the plastic window and nodded. 'Well, Mr Ripley,'
he said. 'How can I be of aid to the Federal Bureau of Investigation?' He started to hand back the ID but
the agent stopped him.

'I would like you to authenticate the identification, sir. I believe that you were given an unlisted number for
use if the occasion should arise?'

Bryce nodded and opened the top drawer of his desk. 'Yes, I've used it once before. Here it is. If you
will excuse me.'

The bank manager dialled the number, then identified himself to the party at the other end. He read off
the ID number from the wallet, then placed his hand over the receiver.

'They want to know the case reference.'

'Tell them investigation George.'