[Magazine 1966-09] - The Brainwash Affair - Davis Robert Hart (читать книги онлайн полные версии .txt) 📗
"Why hasn't it been done be fore?" Solo asked.
"It has," Waverly said. "Currency of countries has been devalued, a country has been forced to back its paper currency with gold reserves beyond its means––but never on such a vast, cruel and inhuman scale as this present conspiracy can be."
"Why would they want to do it?" Illya said.
"In the minds of international renegades who care only to rule the world, the economy of great powers can be destroyed without a qualm. What would THRUSH care what happened to the dollar? We believe THRUSH is behind this. Our computers have selected THRUSH as the only alliance so callously heartless as to spread world-wide ruin, depression. THRUSH could then hope to take over international banking and thus control all nations."
Solo found himself remembering the stark fear in Lester Caillou's face.
"How could it happen?"
"There are many ways that one man, or several key men in the World Bank could make sudden and drastic changes in monetary policies that would create international fiscal crises.
"First, by buying, demanding gold in payment, collecting all gold, until one nation, or one group controls gold, an imbalance of fearful proportions would be created.
"Next, causing business and export-importers to lose faith in any country's currency, so they'd refuse to accept anything except gold as a medium of exchange, is another way to create panic.
"If, in panic, several countries refused to accept a country's currency in exchange for materials or services, disaster for the country affected, follows.
"Another way would be to flood a country with counterfeit money, causing panic among banks and people.
"This devaluation of the money of the great nations of the free world looks like THRUSH's first calculated step toward the control of world finances.
"One of its biggest threats is to peaceful trade between East and West. It's taken a long time to stabilize it. Commerce between West and East countries has made a one hundred percent increase in the last seven years. This will be wiped out by THRUSH manipulation of the dollar."
Waverly gazed at his operatives. "In THRUSH's hands, this is money gone berserk, leading to panic, mistrust between nations, especially the Iron Curtain and the free world."
Illya shook his head. "How could THRUSH control the World Bank directors?"
"Very likely they couldn't," Waverly said. "In order to cause disaster, they'd need to control no more than two or three, perhaps only one. They count on shock and reaction to help after the value of free world currency is forced down."
Illya persisted. "How could they control even one director who must be known down to his smallest vice by the World Bank and by his own people?"
"We have that answer, too," Waverly said. "THRUSH owns the Ultimate Computer, as you men well know. All known facts about World Bank directors are programmed into their ultimate computer. From these known facts, the Computer gives them the unknown facts, the weaknesses, strengths, perhaps even the most carefully guarded secrets in the pasts of these men. THRUSH would then find the weakest link and—" Waverly spread his hands, letting them complete the thought in their own minds.
After some moments Waverly said, "Our task is clear. Simple. We must uncover the plot and expose it. One factor THRUSH cannot overcome in an operation like this is publicity. Once their victim of blackmail pressure extortion is located, once that black secret is exposed, this particular gimmick will no longer work for them."
Illya spoke slowly. "But we must have proof, eh? To air suspicions, without proof, would only increase the panic—"
"Right. And play THRUSH's game for them," Waverly agreed. "I see I've chosen the right two men for this vital mission."
Solo spoke without much hope., "Our computers weren't able to supply the name of the man or men that THRUSH has gotten under its control?"
Waverly smiled sourly. "Our computer is not the Ultimate Computer, Napoleon. Using it against THRUSH's ultimate machine is a sad battle of unequals."
"We know nothing more than whet you've told us, then?" Napoleon Solo asked.
"We know only that THRUSH, through its Ultimate Computer, can learn men's weaknesses, can control them, and through this man or men, can control and wreck the world financially."
"Their man might be anyone in the World Bank," Illya Kuryakin said.
Waverly nodded. "And he will defy exposure, because he will have even more to lose, from his own view, than THRUSH. Exposure will mean disgrace and death to him. This is how THRUSH was able to get him under control in the first place."
"Where do we start?" Illya asked.
Solo yawned helplessly. "I could start with a shower and a beauty-rest."
Waverly said, "Hope you liked Paris, Napoleon."
"It wasn't dull." Solo touched gingerly at his face.
"We're sending you back there on the next jet."
"I wasn't that enthused about it—"
"Directors of the World Bank are meeting in Paris with the U.S. Secretary of the Treasury and De Gaulle's finance men. This seems an ideal moment to test THRUSH's strength and power."
"Should be easy, Illya," Solo said in a low ironic tone. "All THRUSH has is the Ultimate Computer—and after all, we have each other."
"Precisely my view," said Alexander Waverly.
THREE
THE AIRFRANCE jet screamed homing in on the black fabric of its runway laced across the Orly airfield. The lights of Paris shone distantly an hour before dawn. Even at this hour the City of Light glowed, sparkling like thrown gems.
Solo and Kuryakin left Customs, crossed the lobby to pick up the Citroen which had been reserved in their names. The vivacious French girl at the rental desk handed over the keys and bade them in French to have a good time.
Two menacing forms materialized from the fading night shadows as Solo and Illya approached theft car.
Solo hesitated a few feet from the Citroen, touching Illya's arm warningly.
The Arab girl and the huge Moor lounged against the hood of the Citroen.
"So you came back," the Moor said to Solo in pity and contempt.
"Do you have the fright concession at this airport?" Solo asked.
"Only when we need it," the Moor said. "Only when men like you refuse to learn."
"Friends of yours, Napoleon?" Illya inquired.
Solo spoke from the side of his mouth. "Watch his gloves. Metal lined."
"Come quietly," the Moor said, standing erect. "No one need get hurt."
"Oh, I think it's time someone got hurt," Solo said urbanely.
Solo lunged suddenly toward the Moor.
"Look out, Albert!" the Arab woman screamed.
The Moor laughed, setting himself. "I'm always careful, Gizelle."
Coming in close to Albert, Solo feinted with his left. Laughing, the Moor swung upward.
Solo danced lightly beyond the reach of the wildly swinging arm. He clasped Albert's wrist as the big Moor drove forward.
Grabbing the arm in both hands, Solo moved with him, smashing the gloved fist into the fender of the nearest car.
Albert sobbed in agony. Solo did not even hesitate. He chopped Albert across the neck with the side of his hand. Albert toppled, his face striking the car fender. The sound was like a boulder pounding metal.
Gizelle watched for one horrified moment. She sprang at Illya, fighting a switchblade from her pocket.