"Destroyer - 011 - Kill Or Cure" - читать интересную книгу автора (Murphy Warren)

Those were the orders of a long-dead president to Smith more than a decade before. Besieged by crime, internal corruption, the threat of revolutionary anarchy, the president had created CURE, a government agency which did not exist, and since it did not exist, was not bound by constitutional safeguards. He had told Smith to head it and to fight crime. That was its mission. To safeguard the country, the president had specified that not even the president could give CURE orders. With one exception. The president could order it to disband.

Smith had worked that out well. There were special funds of which the president knew, whose drying up would dry up CURE. That was only an extra safeguard. Smith, of course, would disband CURE himself any time he was ordered. In fact, several times he had come close, even without orders, when he felt the organization faced exposure.

For exposure was the one big flaw in the entire operation. And now, again, CURE faced exposure.

Dr. Smith looked out at the Sound and then back at the computer terminal on his desk.

A red phone buzzed on his desk. That was the call. Smith picked up the phone.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said into the receiver.

‘Was that thing in Miami Beach your people?’ came the voice.

‘Yes, Mr. President.’

‘Well, it’s close. You going to close shop?’

‘Are you ordering it, sir?’

‘You know where the egg yolk is going to land, don’t you? Right on my face.’

‘For awhile sir, yes. Do you want to give the order?’

‘I don’t know. This country needs you people, but not as a public agency. What do you recommend?’

‘We’ve begun closing down, sort of a self-induced dormancy. This line will disconnect by 7 p.m. The Network of grants that supports us is already being cut loose. Fortunately, none of the other Betterment League offices around the country were operational. Only Miami Beach. The computers there are erasing themselves. They’ve been doing it selectively for the last day. We’ll be ready to disappear at a moment’s notice.’

‘And that special person?’

‘I haven’t spoken to him yet.’

‘You could transfer him into some government operation. Definitely military operation.’

‘No, sir, I’m sorry. I cannot do that.’

‘What will you do with him?’

‘I had planned to eliminate him in a situation like this. You don’t want him walking the streets uncontrolled.’

‘Had planned?’

Smith sighed. ‘Yes sir. When it was possible.’

‘You mean he can’t be killed?’

‘No sir. Of course, he can be killed, but God help anyone or anything that misses.’

There was a silence. A long silence.