Exit Code. Don Pendleton
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Название: Exit Code
Автор: Don Pendleton
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Приключения: прочее
isbn: 9781474023436
isbn:
“Good morning, Frankie,” the man greeted him cheerily, coming to a stop behind a large cherrywood desk.
Bolan nodded. “I’m, uh—I’m supposed to be meeting Nicolas Lenzini.”
“So you are,” the man said.
“Yeah. So who are you?”
“Nicolas Lenzini,” the man replied.
Bolan shook his head. “No way, pal. This is some kind of joke, right? Like a test of some kind.”
The man’s laugh was really a cackle, which seemed witch-like under the circumstances. “Oh, I assure you this is no joke, Frankie.”
“My name’s Frank,” Bolan said.
“Your name’s what I say it is!” the guy replied. “And I can assure you, I am Nicolas Lenzini. You want to know how I can prove I am?”
Bolan nodded, fully playing his dismay at being smacked down.
“Because if I push the button here under my desk, I’ll have twenty guys here in five seconds who will yank your smart ass outta that chair, beat you senseless, carve you up with a chain saw and flush parts of you down every public toilet in Boston. Got it?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect.”
“I know it. And you’re going to find, Frankie, that if you’re loyal to me, as your reputation dictates, then I’ll be loyal to you. You’ll never want for anything while you work for me. You can ask Serge or any of his boys. Now, I know you’re a contract guy, but I also know you’re out of work and looking for a place to put up your feet. Do this job for me, do it right, and you’ll have a permanent place to call home.”
“That would be nice, Mr. Lenzini,” Bolan replied meekly.
“Now, I know you’ve probably seen pictures of me. And I know you’re probably wondering why I look like this and I’ve got my ass parked in a wheelchair instead of on some hot broad. You wondering that?”
“Yes, actually, I kinda was.”
“Well, the answer is it’s none of your goddamn business! Okay? You just do what you need to do, worry about yourself, and I’ll take of you. My boys can tell you I’m firm but I’m fair. And I only expect to have this conversation once. We see eye to eye with each other now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now get the fuck out of here.” As he spun the chair he added, “Serge will tell you what you need to do.”
A moment later, Lenzini exited through the panel almost as quickly as he’d entered. Bolan sat and waited a moment, not sure what to do. He didn’t want to look indecisive, but he had to admit he was a bit surprised by the brief and terse encounter. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. But he could understand now why the federal law-enforcement community had had such a difficult time getting Nicolas Lenzini. Bolan’s meeting revealed that the man the media called Nicolas Lenzini wasn’t really Lenzini. The Nicolas Lenzini known to the rest of the world was an impostor.
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