"Destroyer 078 - Blue Smoke and Mirrors.pdb" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Remo)

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drawing his long fingernails from his sleeves. They gleamed in the hard late-afternoon light.
"Look, pal," Remo said casually, "don't make a scene. We have clearance. You can run a metal detector along the box and trot out any sniffer dogs you have. But if he says you don't touch the box, you don't touch the box."
"I'll have to check this with my superiors."
"You do that. And while you're at it, send word to OSI Robin Green that we've arrived."
"Yes, sir," said the sergeant. He saluted just to be sure. He wasn't sure how much pull a GAO investigator had, but there was no sense taking any chances.
He came back from using the guard-box phone a moment later.
"You're free to pass, sir. Have a good day, sir."
The launch-control facility was a long concrete building. Aside from a smaller maintenance building in one corner, it was the only visible indication of a vast ICBM field that sprawled out to the borders of Canada and Minnesota.
"Before we go in," Remo told Chiun as he pulled up to the main building, "I gotta warn you. They're very touchy in installations like this. Don't antagonize them. Please. And above all, do not touch any buttons or levers or anything. You could single-handedly trigger World War III."
"Do not tell me about nuke-nuke madness," Chiun snapped as he stepped from the jeep. "I have been in these places before."
"That's right, you have, haven't you? Should I bring the trunk?"
"Later. We must examine the zones of disturbance first."
"Zones of-?"
Chiun raised an imperious hand. "Hold your questions. I will teach you the basics as we go along."
"You're the Master," Remo said.
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They were met at the flight-security controller's officer by a bantamweight redhead with snapping blue eyes. Her eyes snapped even more when they alighted on Remo's T-shirted torso.
"You're Remo Verral?" she asked incredulously. She wore a regulation blue Air Force skirt uniform.
Remo pulled an ID card from his wallet, caught himself before handing over a laminated card identifying himself as Remo Hoppe, an FBI special agent, and gave her the GAO ID.
While Robin Green looked it over, Remo looked her over. He decided he liked what he saw.
Robin Green did not.
"I'm still waiting," she said hotly, "for someone to explain to me what the investigating arm of Congress is doing in the middle of an internal Air Force investigation."
Remo started to say, "Your guess is as good as mine," but decided he wanted to make a good impression. Instead he said, "This is a very, very serious matter." He hoped Robin Green wouldn't press the point. Remo didn't know squat about half the ID cards he carried. If Smith said to use one, he used it.
Robin's voice tightened. "The Department of Defense, I could understand. Or DARPA. Even CIA. But GAO?"
Remo thought fast.
"The material stolen was paid for by the taxpayers, right?"
"Well, yes," Robin Green said slowly. "So?"
"So Congress wants to know what happened."
"There's no rank on this card. You're civilian."
"Both of us," Remo said, tossing the ball into another court.
Robin Green turned to Chiun. The Master of Sinanju was looking her up and down critically. He walked behind her, as if examining her for flaws. He made a
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complete circle of her, saying nothing, but frowning furiously.
"Oh, this is Chiun," Remo said. "He's with Korean Intelligence."
"Korean Intelligence!"
"It's too complicated to explain," Remo said, taking back the card. "He's a specialist on loan to us. Just take my word for it."
Robin considered. "I'm a dead duck if I don't produce results pronto. It took me three days just to convince them I wasn't on drugs. So I guess I should be grateful for whatever help I can get. How do you do?" she said, shaking Remo's hand. Remo held it a few seconds longer than necessary and Robin Green's tight expression softened. Remo smiled. She returned the smile uncertainly. Worry lines still haunted her eyes.
But when she went to reach for Chiun's hand, the Master of Sinanju presented her with his austere back. He pointedly examined a plaque on the wall.
"What's his problem?" Robin asked in an injured voice.
"Technical specialists are like that," Remo said. "Preoccupied."
Chiun turned suddenly. "I would like to see the zones of disturbance," he said in a formal voice.
"He means the theft areas," Remo said in response to Robin's baffled expression.
"All right. Follow me."
As Robin escorted them down a long corridor, Remo dropped back to have a word with Chiun. It gave him a chance to check out Robin Green's walk. It was a nice walk, considering that she was in uniform. There was the suggestion of a wiggle. Not many women wiggled when they walked, he thought approvingly.
"Why did you stiff her like that, Little Father?" Remo wanted to know.
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"Do not trust her, Remo," Chiun hissed back. "She is an impostor."
"Her? She's Air Force Intelligence. Smith said so."
"An impostor," Chiun repeated firmly.