The Last Ring-bearer - Kirill Yeskov [113]
The big guy positively bent over with laughter, and then drawled, encouraged by his boss's sneer: "Forget it, Lieutenant! You know how they say: three out of four problems solve themselves, and the fourth is unsolvable. Better come with us to the basement – the cutie'll service you first, you being a guest and all. She'll lick you or you can lick her…" Marandil surreptitiously enjoyed this put-down of the visitor from the capital. Of course, he'll have to assist, but first let the man understand that here, in Umbar, he's nobody, and his name is nothing …
"How are you standing in front of a superior officer?" Mongoose inquired in a flat voice, looking Marandil's henchman up and down, lingering on the tips of his boots a bit.
"What's wrong with how I'm standing? I'm not falling over, right?"
"That's an idea," the lieutenant said thoughtfully and moved forward in a light dancelike move. He was a foot shorter and half as wide as his opponent, so the big man struck carefully to avoid accidentally killing him with his melon of a fist. He struck and froze in amazement: Mongoose did not even dodge the blow or move back – he simply disappeared into thin air. The man stood gaping until someone tapped his shoulder from behind – and he actually turned around, the fool…
Mongoose stepped over the prostrated body – fastidiously, as if it was a pile of manure – stopped in front of Marandil, who involuntarily retreated behind the table, panic clearly visible in his eyes, and said drily:
"Your subordinates can barely keep their feet. Are you starving them or something?"
"Hey, you're cool, Lieutenant!" the other managed to say. "Don't be offended; I just wanted to see you in action…"
"I figured as much. Have you seen enough?"
"Are you maybe one of those, what's their name – nin'yokve?"
"That's a different technique, albeit based on the same principle. Back to business. Regarding fun in the basement – I'm afraid you'll have to wait, perhaps even skip it. Tell your people to start without you. Oh, and let them remove this impudent youth."
Mongoose turned down both wine and coffee and got straight to business.
"Yesterday your people tried apprehending Baron Tangorn at the Seahorse Tavern. What does this mean? Have you forgotten that Ithilien is a vassal of the Crown of Gondor?"
"We had no idea it was Tangorn! He gave Mordorian recognition signals, so my boys thought he was their courier."
"Aha!" Mongoose closed his eyes for a second. "This changes things. So he is undoubtedly tied to Mordor. Well, he's useless to them now, too."
"Don't worry, we'll get him before nightfall. It's not just us looking, we've activated the Umbar police. They've already found one of his lairs, he'd left it literally half an hour before they showed up…"
"That's why I'm here. You must immediately stop looking for Tangorn. Tell the police that this was an accident, a miscommunication between two friendly secret services… especially since this does resemble reality."
"I don't understand how you…"
"You don't have to understand anything, Captain. Are you familiar with the letter G?" Marandil took one look at the square of silk in the lieutenant's hand and visibly blanched. "The baron is my responsibility, and he must not concern you. Call your people off, but most importantly – I repeat – stop the police immediately! Should Tangorn fall into their hands rather than mine, it'll be a catastrophe that will cost us both our heads."
"But, Lieutenant, sir… He killed four of my people!"
Mongoose shrugged. "He did the right thing. Fools that get into conversations with their targets ought to be killed on the spot. Now: you stop looking for Tangorn and simply wait. It's not unlikely that he'll show up soon one way or another…"
"Show up? Is he nuts?"
"Oh no, not at all. However, he's apparently in a bind, and as far as I understand him, he's inclined to bet the farm in such situations. Should you learn anything about him, let me know right away: have a Dol Amroth pennant hoisted