"Chalker, Jack L - G.o.d. Inc. 2 - The Shadow Dancers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

X-rays. We'll put one or two in, immunize her against the agents, and all she
has to do is kiss him and within two minutes or less he'll be the most
cooperative, docile sort of fellow you ever want to meet. The cruder, less
certain methods would be strictly backup."
"And I'd have like twenty minutes to lay this guy low, then at most another half
hour to get him through the tunnel to you, right? That ain't much of a margin
when anything might go wrong," I noted. "What if he decides to stick one of them
little cubes on me? Or has somethin' done to my brain before he takes me up
there? We got a lot of chances for things to go wrong for good here, and only
real short margins for it all if it goes right. Maybe if them Nazis were
invadin' here right now, and Sam and me are both candidates for the gas
chambers, then this would be worth the risk, but it ain't. I'm sorry 'bout this
world, but it ain't my world and it's gonna be just as shitty with or without me
or Vogel. It's my life or at the luckiest the rest of my life as a slave. My
ancestors was slaves once, but they sure as hell didn't volunteer."
Sam nodded. "She's right, Bill. The puzzle's a good one, and I'd like to help
solve it, but you're asking her to risk everything in a very slim chance of this
in the name of saving some company bigwigs from an eventual threat that, if it
affects us at all, probably won't until we're old and gray. The last time they
were working our city in our world. I'm sorry for these people, but I just can't
believe this kind of James Bond plan has a ghost of a chance."
Markham hardly blinked. "I'm authorized to offer one million dollars cash, taxes
paid, no strings, to take the case. All money up front, win or lose."
I got startled and just stared. A million bucks tax free . . .
"What good's the money to me, Bill?" Sam asked him. "Damn it, Brandy's worth
more than that. If she's not here to spend it with me it's sure as hell not
worth it."
I really loved Sam for that, but Bill really got me in my greedy part. A million
bucks, cash, tax paid. 'Course, a million ain't what it used to be, but it's
pretty good. I was beginnin' to wonder just how possible this thing was."
"I can't pretend this is risk free," Markham kindly admitted, "but I can cover
some of the bases. If she's in there more than five days we'll come in, take her
out, and blow the joint and the hell with Vogel. Guaranteed. We can also set
what's known as an anxiety threshold on the tracer. We can get her pulse and
blood pressure from it. If she's threatened with anything like surgery or this
drug, it'll trigger her out of the persona and her pulse rate and blood pressure
will shoot sky high and then we go in and get her right then and there and
bye-bye Vogel. If we're down to ten minutes and holding the station and she
doesn't show, we'll blow through that place and force whoever's in that Safe
Room to come out one way or the other. I don't say you can't get hurt or killed,
Brandy, but we'll do everything to keep it from happening, that I swear-and
under no circumstances will we strand you there."
I looked over at Sam. "If it was you and not me, would you seriously give it
some thought? Honest, now, Sam!"
He sighed. "If it was me going in, I have to honestly say I'd give it some
thought, yes," he admitted, knowin' he couldn't fake that kind of stuff with me.
"But a million bucks is not worth losing you, babe."
I looked at Bill. "You wanta leave us alone for a couple of minutes?"
Markham took the hint and left. I think he figured on it right off. I don't even
think he was listenin' in someplace.