The Last Ring-bearer - Kirill Yeskov [93]
Silence fell for a couple of seconds.
"Damn! Is it so obvious on my face?"
"Without a doubt – although I can't see your face in this dark. In other words, let the experts worry about such things and do the job you know how to do, all right?"
"Please accept my apologies, Superintendant."
"Don't worry about it. As long as we're on the subject: the people you'll be working with at that 'university' got there in a variety of ways; many are your good friends. You can discuss anything your heart desires with them – student parties, news of the Resistance, philosophy – anything but the story of how you got there. Loose talk on the subject can cost a lot of people their lives – both my colleagues, like our mutual friend in Mindolluin, and your colleagues still in the hands of the enemy. I say this with utmost seriousness and responsibility. Do you understand, Engineer Second Class?"
"Yes, Superintendant."
"Very good. Get well soon and move on."
**
"Congratulations, Mongoose." Cheetah straightened up in his armchair and looked over the Secret Guard lieutenant standing there at attention. "I have examined your report on Operation Mockingbird. Six men rescued – great job. The Service thanks you."
"His Majesty's servant, sir!"
"At ease, Lieutenant. Sit down, this is no parade ground. So the retreat from Mindolluin happened under the emergency option?"
"Yes, sir. The last man I've watched – engineer Kumai, number thirty-six on our list – got into a stupid mess the day before the planned escape. The local warders turned him into chopped liver, and I had to fix him up real fast; to be honest, first I thought that there was no hope. I did save and extract him, but this completely exposed me: the snitches reported the healing, and… In other words, your boys from the backup team showed up just in time."
"Yeah," Cheetah grumbled and looked at the shabby walls of the safe house with visible disgust, "quite in time… Two dead bodies, three wounded, Her Majesty's entire Secret Service is frantically looking for a Mordorian spy: a swarthy man with small scars around the mouth. Meanwhile, the police is looking for an escaped convict of the same description… I think, lieutenant, that it's high time you changed climates; get packing to go South, to work in Umbar."
"Yes, Captain, sir!"
"Here, examine this dossier. Baron Tangorn, Faramir's Umbarian resident before the war. We have reasons to believe that he is doing the same thing we are doing – looking for Mordorian experts and documents for his prince; there are indications that soon he'll show up in Umbar. Your task is to capture Tangorn and get all the information concerning this Ithilienian venture out of him. His Majesty considers this operation to be of exceptional importance."
"May I treat him harshly to get the information?"
"It won't work in any other way; judging by this dossier, the baron is not the kind to buy his life with the secrets he's been trusted with. In any case he'll have to be disposed of after the interrogation, since we're formally allied with Ithilien, so this whole story must not become known."
"How will he come to Umbar – in an official capacity or?.."
"Most likely 'or.' You have an important advantage: it appears that Tangorn doesn't know that he's being hunted. He may even stay openly in a local hotel, at least at first, and then his