"Brian Lumley - E-Branch 1 - Defilers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lumley Brian)

ruin both Russia's economy and the world's health! Turchin hadn't realized how bad the drugs
trafficking situation was. Now that he has, he wants L C. taken out.
"Well, what do you suggest?" Trask said. "Are you going to take care of it? Will you make some
sort of presentation ... or should I see to it? If it's me, please remember that I'm still in the
dark as to his whereabouts-the old gadfly!"
"Well, it's like this," said Turchin. "I've had one of our local people back home come and see me,
someone who owes me for a change. In a week or so

he'll introduce and recommend an intermediary to our mutual friend-perhaps as a new club member?
Then we sit back and wait for a report-place, date, and time. I think that should do it."
"Hmmm," Trask mulled it over, giving John Grieve time to scrawl: He's coerced someone in the
Russian mob to introduce an undercover agent to Castellano. When his man has learned L C.'s
routines, he'll get back to us with a venue.
And Turchin continued, "But I'm afraid the presentation is going to have to be of your own
devising, and preferably on our friend's home ground. The greater shame is that what with these
Earth Year conferences and what have you, I won't be available. I can't be involved personally, if
you see what I mean . . ."
Whatever you decide to do with Castellano, it will have to be on L. C 's or our territory. Turchin
doesn't want any part of it.
"Yes, I understand," said Trask. "You want to keep it politically correct." "Well, I do have a
certain position to maintain . . ." He's much higher profile than we are and would make a bigger
target. "And of course," Trask said, "you don't want to commit too many of your own resources."
(Meaning the Opposition-Russia's own equivalent of E-Branch-of which Turchin was now the head
man.)
"Simply can't," said the other. "There's so much going on. I mean on a higher plane, you know?" Up
in the Urals. Perchorsk.


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And Trask thought, He's committed his espers to getting me those details on the Perchorsk Complex
and Gate. While out loud he said:
"Ah, well, it can't be helped. But still, we've got things moving at least. I'm glad that's all
sorted now."
"Oh, but we've a long way to go yet, Ben. I'll be in touch as soon as I've filled in some blank
spots. But if I seem a bit vague I'm sure you'll understand." He'll fax you some stuff. In Code.
But nothing you'll have too much trouble with. "Good!" said Trask. And tried to finish it off
with: "Talk to you later . . ." But the other wasn't ready to let him go. "Wait!" he said, and
that edge-an edge of fear?-was back in his voice. "We had also talked about a little personal
problem of mine? Well, time is pressing-I expect that very soon people will be looking for answers-
and you mentioned some sort of solution that you might eventually have to hand? How are things
going on that front?"
Perchorsk again? Russian military types? Putting some kind of squeeze on him? And- Necroscope?
Grieve raised a surprised and querying eyebrow, looked at Trask.
Trask shrugged it off for the moment and said, "I'm working on it. Believe me, Gustav, you'll be
the first to know. But until then . . . well, I still have a few very big problems of my own.
Three of them, in fact."
"Ah, yes, of course! But you'll also recall we talked over the possibility of your retirement and
a place in the sun?" Political asylum. Defection. But his, not yours. "Indeed I do."