Уловка 22

The Cellar

           Andwesureknowit’sveryserious."ThecarswungofftheroadatGroupHeadquarterswithasquealoftires,slackeningspeedonlyslightly,andcontinuedaroundpasttheparkinglottothebackofthebuilding.Thethreeofficersandthechaplaingotout.Insinglefile,theyusheredhimdownawobblyflightofwoodenstairsleadingtothebasementandledhimintoadamp,gloomyroomwithalowcementceilingandunfinishedstonewalls.Therewerecobwebsinallthecorners.Ahugecentipedeblewacrossthefloortotheshelterofawaterpipe.Theysatthechaplaininahard,straight-backedchairthatstoodbehindasmall,baretable.

           "Pleasemakeyourselfcomfortable,Chaplain,"invitedthecolonelcordially,switchingonablindingspotlightandshootingitsquarelyintothechaplain’sface.Heplacedasetofbrassknucklesandboxofwoodenmatchesonthetable."Wewantyoutorelax."Thechaplain’seyesbulgedoutincredulously.Histeethchatteredandhislimbsfeltutterlywithoutstrength.Hewaspowerless.Theymightdowhatevertheywishedtohim,herealized;thesebrutalmenmightbeathimtodeathrightthereinthebasement,andnoonewouldintervenetosavehim,noone,perhaps,butthedevoutandsympatheticmajorwiththesharpface,whosetawatertapdrippingloudlyintoasinkandreturnedtothetabletolayalengthofheavyrubberhosedownbesidethebrassknuckles.

           "Everything’sgoingtobeallright,Chaplain,"themajorsaidencouragingly.

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