Domination Bid. Don PendletonЧитать онлайн книгу.
some type of coiled tubing. The stock had a brushed steel finish but there were flutes in the superior line of the stock that looked like bubble levels. Dratshev’s mouth dropped open as he realized they were filled with liquid helium.
Madari looked wholly satisfied. “I can see from your expression that our designs aren’t that far off from your own.”
Dratshev clamped his mouth closed before responding. “Hardly. They’re not even close, actually.”
“Nice try, Dr. Dratshev, but I’d advise you to stick to the truth. You’re really not much of a liar.” Madari took one of the weapons and hefted it. “These are our phase-two prototypes, actually, the closest we’ve been able to come to your original design specifications. But I can assure you your government hasn’t come anywhere close to building anything like it. The barrel, you’ll note, is still too long to make the weapon practical in small-arms applications, but we’ve had difficulty producing sufficient energy pulses through anything shorter. This is one of things I hope you can help us with.”
“I’ve already told you—”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Madari extended the weapon. “Here, you may hold it.”
“I don’t wish to hold it.”
“Please.”
Dratshev folded his arms, determined not to be swayed by Madari’s charms. And yet…something about seeing a prototype EMP of his design, even if they hadn’t gotten it nearly correct, seemed irresistible.
“Please,” Madari reiterated.
“Very well,” Dratshev said, taking the weapon gingerly from his captor-host.
It proved much lighter than he’d expected and he nearly dropped it from over-compensation. The barrel made it top-heavy and he had to angle it slightly to prevent the thing from landing in the gravel-and-dust floor of the range. Dratshev took a minute or two to examine the finer details and on closer inspection confirmed his suspicions about the liquid helium.
Finally he looked at Madari. “How did you—?”
“You’re going to ask how I knew about the specifications. As I already explained, everyone has a price. Your handler has been extremely cooperative.”
“My handler knew nothing about the designs.”
“On the contrary, your handler knew everything about your designs. He intercepted the plans you sent to the manufacturing facility. He also arranged your transfer, without authorization from your government, I might add.”
Dratshev didn’t want to believe it, but his gut told him Madari spoke the truth. So he’d been set up from the beginning. And Dratshev’s handler had probably come up with some story to their masters at the Kremlin about how Dratshev had arranged his own abduction as a means for defection. The leaders in Moscow were certain to have assumed by now that Dratshev was a traitor. Any FSB detachment sent wouldn’t be on a search-and-rescue mission—Moscow would send an assassination team. And Dratshev knew they wouldn’t rest until he was dead.
“Ah, I see the light has come on,” Madari said with a knowing grin. “You finally understand the truth. You see, Dr. Dratshev, I didn’t really kidnap you. I saved your life.”
“And now you think I owe you something for that.”
“Not at all.” Madari shrugged. “It makes no difference to me if you continue to maintain your loyalty to Mother Russia. But understand that if you don’t cooperate with me, I will be left with no other alternative.”
“And that is?”
“To liberate you.”
“I like that,” Dratshev replied with a scornful laugh. “It sounds much better than kill me.”
“No, I literally meant I would free you. You’ll find me a very literal man, sir. As I’ve told you, I’m not an animal or a murderer. If you refuse to cooperate, I will set you free.”
“And then what?”
Madari shrugged, clasped his hands behind his back and replied, “Then I’m certain the FSB will have no trouble finding you and terminating your life—this I can most assuredly guarantee you. This is really to say that releasing you poses absolutely no liability to me. And even if you managed to escape, chances are good you’ll be on the run for the rest of your life. The odds aren’t in your favor, to put it bluntly.”
“It seems to have escaped your notice that if I’m dead, you will be unable to complete building of the prototypes.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Madari favored him with a wan smile. “If you refuse to cooperate, my situation hasn’t changed. And with you dead, I alone possess the knowledge and research, which I will put up for auction to the highest bidder.”
“You seem to forget my government has the information, as well.”
Madari shook his head. “Not all of it. Dr. Dratshev. My arrangement with your handler goes back considerably. Five years or better now, I think. He’s only given your people part of the information and none of the prototype specifications. Those have come straight to me and I have lined your handler’s coffers handsomely for that information.”
Dratshev had heard enough and could no longer contain his temper. “None of this makes any sense, Mr. Madari.”
“Please, call me—”
“Don’t interrupt me! Now you’ve been a gracious host—nay, a captor—to this point, but I can no longer tolerate your egomania. I don’t know what your purposes really are for stealing me and my work, but I deem they are more nefarious than anything else—despite what you say about wanting to bring democracy to your country. I doubt you have little if any influence left there, which probably explains why you’re here.” Dratshev gestured to indicate their surroundings.
“What I do believe is that you have no interest in keeping me alive unless I’m willing to unconditionally acquiesce to your wishes. I am not. Whatever else you may be, Mr. Madari—a gentleman or a patriot or perhaps merely an opportunist out to make as much money and a name for yourself as possible—you are a scoundrel. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. So let us not pretend that your benevolence doesn’t have some ulterior purpose. I am not so easily won over, despite whatever you might think about what motivates the scientific mind.”
For a long time Madari didn’t say anything, and Dratshev was convinced he’d finally called Madari’s bluff. Then the man grabbed the second EMP rifle being held by the other armory guard, aimed the weapon downrange and squeezed the trigger. At first nothing happened, but then a moment later the weapon bucked hard against Madari’s shoulder, hard enough for him to cry out with pain, and then the air in front of the barrel shimmered as if under heat. A moment passed and a massive box made of what appeared to be steel or iron blew apart as if had been packed with high explosives.
Dratshev ducked reflexively and then turned his gaze slowly to Madari, who was handing the rifle back to the guard while rubbing his right shoulder.
Madari whirled to face Dratshev, a gleam in his eye. “That is just a small demonstration of what your genius has accomplished, Doctor. It is my intention to sell this technology to whoever will bid the most. In fact, I released the details of the public auction this morning to five countries. We should be hearing from them very shortly.”
“Clearly, I was wrong about you, Mr. Madari,” Dratshev replied. “You’re neither a fake nor an opportunist. You are, quite simply, a lunatic.”
“Perhaps,” Madari said. “But there are other lunatics throughout history who were able to achieve much more than I ever subsume I may. And for now, Dr. Dratshev, I will do this whether I have your cooperation or not. Think about it. You can profit by this—I will provide you the most advanced facilities at your disposal. Even after we auction this current technology, nothing says we have to stop there. With you by my side, we can develop weapons even more powerful and advanced—weapons I can use