"MacLean, Alistair - The Golden Rendezvous" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maclean Alistair)

precise. Slingsby Caroline had vanished. As he was the director of the
research establishment, this was serious enough, but what was even more
dismaying was that he had taken the working prototype with him. He had
apparently been surprised by two of the night guards at the plant and
had killed them both, presumably with a silenced weapon, since no one
heard or suspected anything amiss. He had driven through the plant
gates about ten o'clock at night at the wheel of his own blue Chevrolet
station wagon; the guards at the gate, recognising both the car and
their own chief and knowing that he habitually worked until a late hour,
had waved him on without a second glance. And that was the last anyone
had ever seen of Dr. Caroline or the Twister, as the weapon, for some
obscure reason, had been named. But it wasn't the last that was seen of
the blue Chevrolet. That had been discovered abandoned outside the Port
of Savannah, some nine hours after the crime had been committed, but
less than an hour after it had been discovered, which showed pretty
smart police work on someone's part. And it had been just our evil luck
that the S.S. Campari had called in at Savannah on the afternoon of the
day the crime had been committed. Within an hour of the discovery of
the two dead guards in the research establishment, all interstate and
foreign air and sea traffic in the southeastern united states had been
halted. As from seven o'clock in the morning all planes were grounded
until they had been rigorously searched; as from seven o'clock police
stopped and examined every truck crossing a state border; and, of
course, everything larger than a rowing boat was forbidden to put out to
sea. Unfortunately for the authorities in general and us in particular,
the S.S. Campari had sailed from Savannah at six o'clock that morning.
Automatically the Campari became very, very "hot," the number one
suspect for the getaway. The First radio call came through at 8.30 A.M.
Would captain Bullen return immediately to Savannah? the captain, no
beater about the bush, asked why the hell he should. He was told that
it was desperately urgent that he return at once. Not, replied the
captain, unless they gave him a very compelling reason indeed. They
refused to give him a reason and captain Bullen refused to return.
Deadlock. Then, because they hadn't much option, the federal
authorities, who had already taken over from the state, gave him the
facts. Captain Bullen asked for more facts. He asked for a description
of the missing scientist and weapon, and he'd soon find out for himself
whether or not they were on board. Followed a fifteen-minute delay, no
doubt necessary to secure the release of top classified information,
then the descriptions were reluctantly given. There was a curious
similarity between the two descriptions. Both the Twister and Dr.
Caroline were exactly seventy-five inches in length. Both were very
thin, the weapon being only eleven inches in diameter. The doctor
weighed 180 pounds, the Twister 280. The Twister was covered in a one
piece sheath of polished anodised aluminum, the Doctor in a two-piece
grey gabardine. The Twister's head was covered by a grey pyroceram nose
cap, the doctor's by black hair with a telltale lock of grey in the
centre. The orders for the Doctor were to identify and apprehend, for
the Twister to identify but do not, repeat, do not touch. The weapon
should be completely stable and safe, and normally it would take one of