The Last Ring-bearer - Kirill Yeskov [128]
After the sergeant had committed the legend to paper, twice, Tangorn renewed his bonds, took both sergeant's badges (the talkative one was Aravan, the tough one was Morimir; the baron checked the latter's carotid artery while removing the chain from around his neck and found a pulse), and left the house to his involuntary interlocutor's frenzied cries: "Untie me! Let me go!" By Tangorn's design, the later the man fell into his friends' hands at 12 Shore Street, the better; the baron took care to find a policeman (not an easy task on Carnival night) and let him know that the door to 4 Lamp Street was open slightly and someone was calling for help inside: "Doesn't sound like a joke – perhaps some drunk is misbehaving?" Then he put Aravan's testimony and badge into the letter destined for Kharmian Village. The other copy he addressed to the ambassador of the Reunited Kingdom: let him and Marandil try and puzzle it all out. Bafflement breeds inaction, as is well known.
Tangorn made it back to the Flying Fish by dawn and fell asleep like a log. The deed was done and all he had to do was wait: the lure he had dropped – the real name of one of the underground leaders – was too good to be passed up. The Elves couldn't ignore the meeting; at the very least they'd show up to kill him. Their checking will probably take a few days, so he should only go to the Green Mackerel next Friday, the twentieth. Now he had enough time to plan both the talk with Elandar and the cover and escape routes.
**
"…He will only talk to Elandar himself, as he's not interested in flunkies."
"You are mad!" The gaze of the Great Magister was terrible. "He can't possibly know this name, nor can anyone outside Lórien!"
"Nevertheless, that's what he said, milord. Should we contact him?"
"Definitely, but I will do it myself – this is too important. Either he really does have some important information, in which case we need to get it, or he is provoking us and we must liquidate him before it's too late. How long will it take your security service to verify this weird miraculous rescue story?"
"I believe that four days will be sufficient, milord. You should be able to visit the Green Mackerel this Friday."
"One more thing. This Algali… he has heard a name he has no business knowing. Make sure that he never tells it to anyone."
"Yes, milord." The chief of security looked away momentarily. "If you think it's necessary…"
"I do think so. The kid has been compromised: both the Secret Guard and DSD will be hunting him now. We have no right to endanger the entire underground. Yes, I know what you've just thought: had it been an Elf, I'd behave differently, right?"
"No, milord," the other replied woodenly. "The safety of the Organization is paramount, that's basic. I only wish to remind you that it is Algali who is supposed to meet Tangorn and also to pick up the letter in Kharmian Village, so we'll have to wait until Friday to do it…"
Yes, thought the Great Magister with fleeting pride, we have really trained them well, and in just two years. The magic phrase 'it's necessary' accomplishes everything. Who would've thought that all those liberal humanists will be so eager to stand at attention and salute, and find a deep sacred meaning in doing so, one that's beyond their weak civilian minds… Actually, this Algali is lucky, if you think about it. They are all dead men anyway, but he will at least die happy, full of illusions and believing in a glorious future, whereas the others will have to behold what they've done and realize whose road they've paved before they die…
***
"Barrel of pus!! Can't blame those Gondorian idiots, but where the hell were you, Jacuzzi?"
It was not often that the Vice-Director