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

harder to hear over the TV, and then, to everyone's shock, the door to the room
on the left opened and a man stepped out and closed it behind him. Suddenly he
saw the black clad gas team and froze for a precious second.
One of the marksmen got him with a fast and dirty pulse shot that was nearly
dead silent, and two gas team members caught him as he fell and hauled his limp
body to one side almost in a continuous motion. Still, everybody froze for a
moment, waiting to see if anything had been heard, but they relaxed when nothing
happened.
The snoring died away in the room on the left and was replaced mostly with dead
silence, while in the other room there was still the sound of somebody moving
and the TV going on. There was the sudden sound of something dropping and
something hard hitting the carpet and bouncing, and that was that.
The assault team of the gas squad switched on their respirators, then moved to
both doors. There was a quick series of loud breaths from the team leaders that
clearly was meant as a synchronization signal, and when both were satisfied it
all went down real fast.
Rifles fired, burning the locks in an instant, then the assault men went in like
lightning. Sam and the others were up and moving in almost immediately, with a
squad of heavily armed plainclothes men going to each van, opening it, and
starting to haul limp forms out.
"All secure," came the report from the gas team leader. "We got him! One of 'em
wasn't quite under but he was too woozy to do anything except get bloody when I
kicked his face in. Guess the opening of the door diluted the gas."
Sam was ready to run into the room but one of the agents stopped him. "There's
still enough gas in there to knock you for a loop!" he warned. "Stay here and
they'll bring him out!"
A tall assault team member seemed to hear, and emerged from the snoring room
with Dash's small, limp form. Sam rushed up to him and looked down at the
unconscious form of his son.
"He'll be fine," the assault team man assured him. "Strong, normal pulse. Let's
get him over to the ambulance and we'll bring him out of it in a jiffy."
Sam nodded numbly and let the man carry Dash away. The ambulance was already
driving in and it was only a few feet to it, but Sam found himself instead
leaning against the side of the motel building, using it for support. He gave a
heavy sigh and then couldn't help crying. The pressure was suddenly relieved,
the emotions could no longer be so professionally repressed.
Bill Markham came up to him but said nothing, letting the detective get hold of
himself. Finally Sam managed, with a sob, "You got a handkerchief, Bill?
Wouldn't you know I left without one. . . ."
"Daddy!" Dash clung to Sam and started crying himself, almost starting Sam
again, but Sam held it and just hugged Dash and held him very close. Finally the
boy looked up, tears streaming down his face, and said, "I knew you'd come. I
knew you wouldn't let 'em take me away."
"Not if I could help it, son," Sam responded with gentle firmness.
The boy looked around, suddenly panicked. "Where's Mommie?"
"She's okay. The bad men hurt her when they took you and she has to stay in bed
for a little while but she's going to be fine. She's home waiting for you. We'll
call her later on and you'll see her tomorrow. Okay?"
"Is she hurt real bad?"
Sam thought about it. How do you explain a Ginzu paralysis hold to a