"Chalker, Jack L - G.O.D. Inc 1 - Labyrinth of Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

this time from the other end.
The major asset Brandy had during that period when she tried to keep the agency
afloat after her father had died, and even in tracking down his killer, was the
number of relatives her mother had all over the metropolitan creation. Cousin
Minnie had been just one of these; there were many more, and while she was close
to none of them, it was true that blood was thicker than water. We didn't have a
whole hell of a lot of time, and we had an awful lot to do.
My old bum disguise was out; not only was it pretty well known, but it's kind of
conspicuous for a bum to buy an airline ticket at all, let alone with either
cash or a credit card. Instead, I dyed gray the hair I still had, and added a
matching false moustache and my reading glasses, although they actually limited
my vision for all but reading, and I usually just carried them in my pocket. In
fact, just looking in the mirror I felt old, and I didn't like it. I had the
uncomfortable feeling that I was staring at the not-too-distant future. Adding a
small and worn hat and a very rumpled blue suit, and walking a little bent over
and carrying a drugstore cane, I was pretty sure that nobody who didn't come
straight up to me and examine me would recognize me.
Brandy slipped out of the apartment while it was still dark. She had a more
extensive makeover to do, and we agreed to meet later, having set up a system
with her cousin Lavonia, who happened to be a cabbie. Lavonia was perhaps more
distant than any of the other cousins, but it was amazing how sweet and loyal
she could be when presented with unregistered cash. Still, we could take no real
luggage with us. All that nice stuff we'd bought had to be abandoned for now.
We'd have to buy what we needed when we got there.
I left the apartment house at nine in the morning on a bright, sunny day, after
spending an hour making sure that I looked and acted correctly and consistently.
About a block down I finally spotted the feds' tail, sitting there in his car
sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. He gave me half a glance when I walked
by directly across the street from him, but nothing more. I couldn't spot Little
Jimmy's tail, if it existed, but I was reasonably confident that if the feds
ignored me when they knew I'd had a reputation for disguises as a vice cop,
Little Jimmy's cretins would be even more easily fooled.
Lavonia was sitting in her cab where she was supposed to be, and I walked up and
opened the back door.
"Fuck off, geezer! I'm off duty!" she shouted at me with the usual tact and
diplomacy of a cabbie.
"Take it easy, Lavonia; I'm the one you're waiting for," I responded, and got in
and shut the door.
She turned and stared at me suspiciously for a moment through the bulletproof
glass partition separating her from her fares. She looked nothing like Brandy;
light-complected, skinny, and with a face that was born hard and mean. "That
really you, Horowitz?"
"Yeah. Let's get going. There's a fed just around the corner, and
who-knows-who-else looking around."
She switched on the ignition and pulled out into traffic with the usual
disregard for traffic, pedestrians, and stationary obstacles. I often think that
there is a factory someplace that makes all the world's cabbies. They all look
different, have different accents, but deep down they're all the same person.
She dropped me at one of those motels on the north side of the city that rents
rooms by the hour and asks no questions. I would have to stay pretty much on ice