Читать книгу Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor онлайн
Finally, Ahmed summoned Aman-Jalil. He was silent for a long time, imitating the Great Iosif Besarionis, smoking his favorite "Duchess" cigarettes.
– You'll work as deputy for now… – he began apologetically. – They've decided at the palace that you're still too young to be the chief inquisitor. Besides, the current chief is an old fighter, a comrade of the Leader… Between us, I'll tell you, he's seriously ill, won't last long, a few years at most, he has cancer, you see?
– There are already two deputies for the chief; who will I replace?
– Not in place of anyone… You'll be the third… Directives came from the emir's palace: about liquidation.
– What does that mean?
– All dissenters, all who oppose can be plundered, proceeds go to the state.
– Glorious, eh!
– You will handle this.
– As you say, boss… And if someone resists or complains?
– Those who resist, you can kill them, and those who complain, exile them to the most remote and coldest island of Bibir.
– Understood, sir!
Ahmed fell silent again for a long while, but Aman-Jalil pressed on.
– It's been half a month for Gyaur… Anything yet?
– Sir, I've been waiting for the appointment…
– You only have half a month left.
– Not enough time.
– I can't wait. – Ahmed crushed an unfinished cigarette into a golden ashtray. – Gyaur is obstructing me… And you'll be the chief inquisitor of the region only after the old fighter for justice dies, that's the order I got from the unmatched Iosif Besarionis himself. By the way, he already knows all about you, remembers your father, so consider your appointment assured… I stand by you, but you must be decisive. In two weeks, you must eliminate Gyaur by any means necessary, or he will be arrested. You promised me stellar performance. I want to see it.
Aman-Jalil understood there was no way out.
– It will be done, boss!
Aman-Jalil, after his father was killed, was raised by his uncle. His mother had suffered a stroke, lying motionless, cared for by his grandmother, leaving the boy orphaned, and Uncle Musa took him in. Musa had a son a year younger than Aman-Jalil, Jumshid. Aman-Jalil spent six months with his uncle. He bonded so well with his brother that Jumshid cried, clinging to Aman-Jalil when his recovering mother came to take him home. Since then, they knew everything about each other, or rather, Aman-Jalil knew everything about him.