Dragonfly by Dean Koontz

Author:Dean Koontz [Koontz, Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780394492148
Google: xVMrAQAAIAAJ
Amazon: 0345251407
Barnesnoble: 0345251407
Goodreads: 434961
Publisher: Ballantine
Published: 1975-07-14T05:00:00+00:00

snapdragon

He drank some more of the whiskey. It was excellent, due in large measure to the water with which he had cut it. You had to mix fine whiskey with the proper water; otherwise, you might just as well drink vinegar or moonshine—or that absolutely terrible rice wine which the Chinese fermented and served with such great pride. He had gone to considerable trouble to obtain the right water for this whiskey, and now he took time to enjoy it. After another sip, which he rolled on his tongue, he said "Ahhh," and put down his glass. The second line of the number code read:

10003210004

Consulting The Wind in the Willows, he found that the fourth word in the three-hundred-twenty-first line of the first chapter was "fly." He wrote that down and looked at what he had thus far:

snapdragon fly

He crossed out the first four letters and drew the rest of it together in one word:

dragonfly

He had another sip of whiskey.

600030007

He worked that out rather quickly and wrote the word "to" after "dragonfly."

600030008 10002100003 11000600010

Gradually he worked his way down through the list of numbers, taking time out to sample his drink, now and then reading a passage out of which Rice had plucked a word. In half an hour he had decoded the entire message:

dragonfly to be used as soon as possible stop within twenty-four hours maximum essential stop city will be unsafe for ninety-six hours after dragonfly is triggered stop save self but staff must be abandoned stop risk all end

Humming softly and tunelessly, the man at the desk read the brief message several times, savoring it as he savored the whiskey. Then he put it through the paper shredder and watched the pieces flutter into the wastebasket. The largest and yet quickest war in history was about to begin.

FOUR

FAIRMOUNT HEIGHTS, MARYLAND: FRIDAY, 7:40 P.M.

"I still don't see what the hell Sidney Greenstreet has to do with this," Bernie Kirkwood said, leaning over the back of the front seat as the sound of the car's engine faded and the night silence closed in around them. Burt Nolan, the six-foot-four Pinkerton bodyguard who was behind the wheel of McAlister's white Mercedes, said, "Do you want me to come in with you, sir?" "There won't be any trouble here," McAlister said. "You can wait in the car." He opened the door and got out Scrambling out of the back seat, Kirkwood said, "I suppose I'm allowed to tag along." "Could I stop you?" McAlister asked. "No." "Then by all means." They went along the sidewalk to a set of three concrete steps that mounted a sloped lawn. "You've been damned close-mouthed since we left the restaurant," Kirkwood said. "I guess I have." "The description in the newspaper . . . You recognized the man who beat up on that hooker." "Maybe I did." At the top of the three concrete steps, there was a curving flagstone walk that led across a well-manicured lawn and was flanked on the right-hand side by a neatly trimmed waist-high wall of green shubbery.

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