"Chalker, Jack L - G.O.D. Inc 3 - The Maze in the Mirror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

limits and their clock was running. They couldn't sustain this blackout for
long, and they couldn't take all night to attack due to the weather and the
uncertainty of how close reinforcements might be.
She heard something on the side and pulled out the pistol, then moved to the
source of the sound. She might have expected them to try her greenhouse first.
All that glass probably looked real tempting, but the shutters were down now for
extra insulation and heat retention and if they tried cutting through the outer
glass as it sounded like and hit those shutters . . .
There was a sudden flash and a scream and the sound of electricity surging
through vibrating metal. She couldn't see anything, but she was pretty damned
sure that somebody had just been fried.
They were far too smart to try the doors, and now the greenhouse had proven
nasty-and they hadn't even hit the bad traps yet had they managed to bypass the
shutters. Next they'd try the frontal assault. She walked back to the living
room and thought she saw shadows through the living room picture window even
though it was pitch dark. Well, she didn't need light.
Certain that Cal was either captured, dead, or well away, she brought up the
pistol and let it do its thing. It moved her hand, faster than she, and fired on
its own. The "bullets" were tiny electrical pulses that showed dull red in the
dark. They struck and went right through the window and she heard a couple of
men's voices cry out. The pistol stopped firing and she had full control again.
The reflex action when fired upon through a window was to fire back. Some of the
men outside did just that with weapons similar to hers. The special "glass" was
strictly one way for that; their shots bounced off. She hoped the ricochets
nailed some of their buddies but they probably just went harmlessly off into the
air where they dissipated. She wondered if they'd try real bullets. They'd mess
up the window but a submachine gun sprayed on there would produce wonderfully
devastating ricochets-for the gunners. They might have figured that this was a
lightly manned and very minor and isolated substation, but the guy who lived
here made his living protecting Company property. Sam had warned that there was
no system that was unbeatable or didn't have some weak points, but what you
bought was time. Time to get help, or time to be rescued. She was in a nice,
warm house she knew well. They were out in cold and wind bitter enough to give a
man frostbite just walking a mile in it improperly clothed and protected. More
important, they had only one exit and it was the equivalent of a highway with
noplace to hide from passing cars. If they were discovered, it was all over and
they were trapped.
Clearly the men outside were getting frustrated fast. They weren't even trying
the conventional doors and windows, since if even the greenhouse and the living
room picture window were traps they knew what the usual places must be like.
She was almost beginning to enjoy this and anticipate their actions. Next they'd
either try and find a ladder in the barn and get to the roof or they'd try
chopping through someplace or, maybe, if they got desperate enough, they might
try starting a fire. She certainly hoped so. The exterior fire suppression
system would spray enough water to coat them with what would be hard ice in a
very short time.
The one thing she'd always hated about this area was the bitter cold, the
feeling of never being really warm. Now, suddenly, she found herself feeling
quite good about bitter cold, snow, and ice. They were allies that even the best
security system couldn't provide on its own.