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

They did in fact seem to be all around, and not at all reticent about shouting
orders. She didn't recognize the language but that was to be expected.
The odds were that they spoke something beyond anyone's ability on this world to
understand. Of course, to her it kind of sounded like the Chinese army.
That thought did worry her a little. The house was protected from casual attack,
from people wanting in even if they had the usual tools and weapons. It was not
a house built by the Company, though, but an old estate house that had been in
the hands of one family for almost two centuries before the last heir, a writer,
committed suicide here and it was sold to the Company through a blind. A
bazooka, for example, would still blow in that steel door.
She decided to retreat upstairs and let the first floor fend for itself,
something it was doing quite well.
Bond stirred. "What is happening?" he managed.
"They're here. They got us cut off for a little bit and they been tryin' to get
through the security system, so far with heavy losses," she told him, some pride
in her voice. "Still, they been awful quiet all of a sudden for a fairly long
time. Either they gave up, or got in the barn to warm up a little, or they're
settin' up and plannin' somethin'."
"Probably the latter. They won't give up. They can't. They will die first. There
is a drug-most of them are slaves to it. If they return without me, or without
proof of my death, they won't get it and they will die horribly. You can not
believe what lengths they will go to."
She felt a knot in her stomach. "Yes, I can, too. They once had me on that
shit."
"And you kicked the habit?" He sounded more than impressed. "Oh, of course, that
was the old drug where you had a chance. Organic stuff from way up the line.
This is all synthetic, much nastier, but you know their desperation."
She nodded. The idea of a drug even more powerful than the most powerful ever
known before was her worst nightmare come true. She had become a whore, a slave,
a double agent, and more under that old one, and it had taken everything she had
and all the knowledge and skills of the Company's super medical technology to
break her free of dependence on it. Most never could break if, the treatment
either broke them or they lived on a level of it rather than try. If it wasn't
for Sam she couldn't have, either. The worst part was how utterly selfish the
addiction made you. You'd rob, betray, even kill innocents, even those you
loved, to sustain it, but never once did she think of killing herself because
that would deny her the next fix. Those poor devils out there would get in or
die trying.
"The rest are probably Ginzu," he told her. "A fanatical warrior cult that
considers a commission a debt of honor and who would prefer death to dishonor.
They are quite skilled with knives that they create themselves and which they
can use to inflict extreme torture. I escaped from them, which is where my
wounds come from. I should prefer to die rather than fall into their hands
again."
She nodded. Suddenly there was a series of thumps from the roof, and she thought
fast. Normally the roof was slick and she could make it slicker, but right now
it was piled up with snow and there might be a possible footing. Right up top
was an old widow's walk with attic access. Even it was electrified and fortified
just in case, but it was also far weaker, being original to the house. But if
they could get in the attic . . .