"Mack Reynolds - North Africa 02 - Border, Breed or Birth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

Homer Crawford went serious. "Actually, none of us should, if we can
avoid it. In a way, El Hassan isn't one person. It's this team here, and Jake
Armstrong, who by this time I hope is on his way to the States."

Bey was shaking his head in stubborn determination. "No," he said.
"I'm not sure that you comprehend this yourself, Homer, but you're
Number One. You're the symbol, the hero these people are going to follow
if we put this thing over. They couldn't understand a sextet leadership.
They want a leader, someone to dominate and tell them what to do. A
team you need, admittedly, but not so much as the team needs you.
Remember Alexander? He had a team starting off with Aristotle for a
brain trust, and Parmenion, one of the greatest generals of all time, for his
right-hand man. Then he had a group of field men such as Ptolemy,
Antipater, Antigonus and Seleucus—not to be rivaled until Napoleon built
his team, two thousand years later. And what happened to this
super-team when Alexander died?"

Homer looked at him thoughtfully.

Bey wound it up doggedly. "You're our Alexander. Our Caesar. Our
Napoleon. So don't go getting yourself killed, damn it. Excuse me, Isobel."

Isobel grinned her pixielike grin. "I agree," she said. "Dammit."

Homer said, "I'm not sure I go all along with you or not. We'll think
about it." His voice took a sharper note. "Let's go over and see if there's
enough left in that wreckage to give us an idea of who the pilot
represented. I can't believe it was a Reunited Nations man, and I'd like to
know who, of our potential enemies, dislikes the idea of El Hassan so
much that they figure we should all be bumped off before we even get
under way."




It had begun—if there is ever a beginning—in Dakar, in the offices of
Sven Zetterberg, the Swedish head of the Sahara Division of the African
Development Project of the Reunited Nations.

Homer Crawford, head of a five-man troubleshooting team, had
reported for orders. In one hand he held them, when he was ushered into
the other's presence.

Zetterberg shook hands abruptly and said, "Sit down, Dr. Crawford."

Homer Crawford looked at the secretary who had ushered him in.

Zetterberg said, scowling, "What's the matter?"
 "I think I have something to be discussed privately."