Domination Bid. Don PendletonЧитать онлайн книгу.
of his men, who disappeared through the door, and then returned his intent gaze to Dratshev. “Might I be bold to suggest that the fact I’ve not harmed you would at least buy me an audience?”
“Only foolish men refuse to listen,” Dratshev said.
“My purpose for bringing you here is, quite simply, that I believe in the merits of your research. You see, Doctor, I was once a very high-ranking member of the Libyan government. My position in that government was not too dissimilar from your own—military research and development, although in an unrelated field.”
“So you’re a scientist, too.”
Madari laughed. “Hardly.”
The guard returned with a pack of cigarettes and matches. Madari waited until Dratshev had lit one before continuing, “It was my job to see to the security of scientists, much as those within your own FSB were assigned to do. This is why it was I took you from them with little effort.”
Dratshev exhaled a cloud of blue-gray smoke. “I can assure you that they will find out.”
“In due time,” Madari admitted. “But only when I’m ready to tell them. This will be very soon provided I can pique your curiosity.”
“I’ve already told you that I’m completely loyal to my country. I won’t cooperate with you.”
“Fair enough, but please at least afford me the opportunity to enlighten you to a few facts. The first being that you were betrayed by your own handler.”
“Phah! I don’t believe you.”
“You might if I told you that the team sent to extract you was only a few minutes away.”
Dratshev wasn’t sure he’d heard Madari correctly at first, but then he recalled the handler telling him the retrieval team had been an hour out. “That proves nothing.”
“It does when you consider our agent was able to positively identify you just minutes after you placed the call to your people.”
Dratshev remained silent.
“Oh, yes,” Madari said. “The very seductive young lady who engaged you in the club… She works for me. In fact, you will see her again very soon.”
“What does that prove, sir?”
“It proves we had eyes on you the moment you entered Minsk. We knew your travel plans, your location and your purpose for being there. All of it. That information all came courtesy of your handler. You see, despite any faith you might have in the volition of the FSB, there’s no question everyone has a price. Your handler came rather cheaply.
“But let’s forget that. The other more telling fact is that none of your prototypes was in Belarus. There was no secret development factory north of the city. The government of Belarus would have never permitted such activity by the Russians within your country, to say nothing of the half dozen foreign intelligence agencies with a presence there.”
“You’ve still not provided proof. I won’t take your word alone for it.”
“You don’t have to, Dr. Dratshev. I haven’t brought you here to tell stories. I’ve brought you here because I do have prototypes of your designs.”
“To what end?”
“As I explained, I was once a prominent member of the Libyan government. I was also a leader within what most of the world has dubbed the Arab Spring. But my reasons for that involvement were based solely on my desire to see the Libyan government leave behind the chains of despotism and tyranny that have so long plagued it, and enter into a new and true form of democratic government. A government elected by the people, not by sedition and fear.”
“A noble goal, if true,” Dratshev said, inclining his head to show respect for the idea. “But somewhat naive, don’t you think?”
Madari seemed unmoved. “Is it? You seem to forget my background. I’ve spent most of my adult life around scientists and I understand how they think.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. Stop and consider for a moment why you do what you do, Doctor. The mind of a genius is not motivated by something so abstract and banal as patriotism or thirst for power. Most are also not given to fame or fortune, despite their gigantic egos. No, Dr. Dratshev, I imagine you’re motivated by what most of your kind are—scientific curiosity and the thrill of discovery.”
“And that’s what you’re counting on with me?”
Madari produced a gentle laugh. “That’s exactly what I’m counting on. Come on, admit it. You are curious about the prototypes.”
“Perhaps,” Dratshev said with a shrug, although he knew Madari was too clever to be fooled. “But I won’t help you perfect them.”
“Well, I’m determined not to take no for an answer,” Madari said as he stood. “Would you be kind enough to accompany me to the range?”
Dratshev stubbed out his cigarette, pocketed the remaining pack and matches, and rose with a shrug. “I suppose there’s no harm. And it’s not as though I have a choice, eh?”
“Take heart, Doctor,” Madari replied. “I think you’re about to be impressed.”
As they walked down the long corridor that terminated in an exit, Dratshev said, “I must admit you have a very nice home.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me where we are.”
“Of course,” Madari said. “We’re in the Greek Isles. Although you’ll understand if I’m not more specific than that. Not that you could escape. Not unless you are an excellent swimmer and impervious to sharks.”
“I’ll take your word for it. I am curious about another matter.”
“You’re going to ask where I learned to speak Russian.”
“Very clever.”
“Not really,” Madari said. “As I noted earlier, I have a comprehensive understanding of scientific curiosity. Although, I’m hardly an enigma to be solved. While most would consider a native of the Middle East who lives in the Mediterranean and speaks fluent Russian—and I admit that on the surface it’s odd—you’ll remember I was trained in security at a military R and D facility in the northern region of Libya. I spent many years there. Some of our scientists were from other countries, including a few from the former Soviet Union. I spent four years training in a number of languages. I also speak English and Spanish. And Arabic, of course.”
“Of course.”
The pair walked the rest of the way in silence and it wasn’t until they reached the range that Dratshev understood why he’d not seen it during his earlier romps through the massive grounds. The range was accessed off a secured, gated entrance obscured by foliage woven directly into the chain links of the gate.
They passed through a narrow path created by a natural break between two hedgerows that stood well above their heads. They emerged on the other side and Dratshev immediately recognized the familiar sunken bunkers and supply buildings that probably housed an array of weaponry.
“My security team utilizes this as their training grounds, as well.”
“Impressive.”
“Not yet,” Madari said with a chuckle.
Madari led him to one of the short, squat buildings and rapped twice on a heavy metal door. The door opened and two men emerged, each carrying the oddest-looking weapons Dratshev had ever seen. They literally looked like something out of a science-fiction movie. The barrels, or what Dratshev assumed to be barrels, were thick and extraordinarily long—he estimated nearly nine feet. Directly behind the barrel was a boxy, transparent chamber containing some type of coiled tubing. The stock had a brushed steel finish but there were flutes in the superior