"Destroyer 028 - Ship of Death.pdb" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Remo)

"Now, getting back to our incipient disaster," said someone near the screen. His voice was British. "Who hasn't been briefed by his naval ministry as to the vulnerable points?"
"Yeah," said Remo. "Here. I haven't."
"Oh, gawd. We really don't have time for a naval history, sir."
"Well, make time. I got time."
"Yes, but you see, the rest of us really don't. If you wouldn't mind, sir, I would just as soon make you privy to the naval functions after the meeting."
"You're not making me privy to anything after anything. Just tell me what's going on and let me get the hell out of here. This room smells," Remo said.
"You're American, I take it."
"As American as rice and duck," said Remo.
There was a small commotion up near the screen and again the British voice.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, we have just received a message that we are to wait for someone to be admitted with the lights out. I imagine that's so we shan't see him properly. I guess I can explain something of the dangers of this ship while we wait for the late arrival."
"The late arrival's already here," said Rem%.
"Oh. Then it's you."
"It's my mother. Go ahead, Charlie. What's with that boat?"
"That boat, as you so quaintly call it, is the largest ship in the world. While it is moving, its bow can be in one current and its stern in another. Literally, in its transatlantic crossing, it experienced at times three kinds of weather simultaneously. It is powered by atomic engines and each of its propeller screws are larger than most sailboats of the type-one class."
"Oh, that explains it," said Remo, who did not know what a type-one sailboat was and was beginning to suspect that upstairs had fouled up again. So he was looking at a big boat, so what? He heard several foreign tongues and knew this was not an exclusively American venture. His main question was, What was he doing here? Was there somebody he was supposed to see and identify and kill later? Was there some master scheme he had to be aware of? Someone started to smoke nearby in a room fouled by body odors.
"Put out your cigarette," said Remo.
"Your pardon is in the begging," said the man with a thick guttural accent. He did not put out the cigarette. Remo snipped off the burning ember and let it drop into the man's lap. The man angrily lit another cigarette and Remo snatched the lighter. The speaker was talking about a world disaster they all might just muddle through if they kept their heads and worked together, when the commotion in the back row forced him to stop.
"We're trying to save the world here. What is going on back there?"
"He started it," said Remo.
The man denied he had started anything. He was chief of security of the Albanian government and he did not start anything.
"Did too," Remo said.
"Gentlemen, in one month, representatives from every nation in the world will place their lives in our hands, trusting to our skill that they will survive. The world expects us to do our duty. Can I not ask you to act in a spirit of cooperation? We are not here to seize some political advantage but to make sure hundreds of delegates and thousands of staff persons from all over the world don't go sinking to the bottom. Gentlemen, it is quite simply up to us to prevent the greatest naval and diplomatic tragedy the world has ever seen, a tragedy that most likely would unleash World War III. In the light of that, I must ask you, please, please, overlook your minor differences. We cannot afford childishness. Now, I am perfectly willing to hear any mature well-reasoned statement concerning the dispute in the back of the room."
The chief of Albanian security said that in the interest of world cooperation he would refrain from smoking.
"See? I told you he started it," Remo said.
Immediately, a man who identified himself as American Secret Service said that Remo's position was not America's. He apologized to Albania for American rudeness. The Albanian accepted the apology. There was light applause.
Remo laughed and made a raspberry.
The Englishman, who identified himself as assistant to MI5, Great Britain, continued. Everyone, he was sure, knew that the great ship called Number 242 was about to be rechristened Ship of States and become the permanent floating home of the United Nations.
"No," said Remo. "I didn't know that. The United Nations is moving out of New York?"
The Englishman paused a moment, then chuckled. "Very humorous," he said.
"No, I'm not kidding," Remo said. "I didn't hear about it. The UN's leaving New York. Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes, sir. That is exactly what I'm saying."
"I'll bet New York's happy as hell," Remo said.
"New York may be happy but we are decidedly unhappy. All of us in this room, in essence the policemen of the world, are facing a security situation unlike any other in the history of the world. We are, in essence, going to have to police our own bosses. This can be touchy. And, in an age of terrorism, the entire ship is a target, an incredible danger. Can any of you imagine what would happen if this diplomatic ship sinks?"
Remo raised a hand.
"Yes. The American," said the British officer at the television screen.
"I can imagine," Remo said. "Nothing. There's always another diplomat around. You never get rid of them. They're always there. They call cops and soldiers dispensable, but let's face it, a cop or a soldier has to be trained. He's got skills you've got to replace. But a diplomat? I mean, how did he get there? He said the right words to some pinko in Moscow or made a campaign contribution in the United States or some other politician back home wanted to get him the hell out of the country. That's what a diplomat is. He's really useless. It's the cops and the soldiers guarding them who are worth something. The ship goes down, nothing'll happen."
The room was dark and each man felt a sense of safety in that anonymity. And in the room there were murmuring approvals. The officer at the screen cleared his throat. Then someone clapped and the room became applause.
The British officer cleared his throat again.
"Nevertheless it is our job and duty to protect these people. The world expects every man to do his duty."
Ship of States was now at berth in New York City. Official opening ceremonies would be the following week.
"We have every reason to fear that this ship may become a ship of death. Already, there have been five mysterious deaths during the building of this ship. Five, gentlemen, five," said the Briton with a note of vindication in his voice.
The American raised his hand again and was recognized reluctantly.
"Now that's a pretty big boat," Remo said.
"Ship," said the British officer.
"Whatever," said Remo. "Now if you've got a... ship that size, you've got thousands of people working on it. I mean, you'd have at least a thousand to look after it when it's resting."
"Moored," said the British officer.
"Right," said Remo. "Well, if you take the thousands who built it and everybody who's watching it and you figure only five people were murdered during that time and you look at any big city with that many people, I bet you'd find out that the boat is no more dangerous than any other big city in the world. So, basically, everyone's getting all worked up over a thing that's no more dangerous than anyplace else carrying a bunch of people who won't be missed anyway."
One person laughed at the obvious clarity of the American's truth and this laugh unleashed an explosion of laughter. When it subsided, an American voice apologized for Remo who apparently represented some agency he was not aware of. He called Remo's remarks "unfortunate and counterproductive."
"You're a jerk," said Remo. He rose from his seat and opened the outside door, letting in hallway light. and left. The hallway was packed. A reporter was trying to get to the center of the small mob.
"What happened?" Remo asked him.