"James Doohan - Flight Engineer Volume 2 - The Privateer-" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doohan James)

with this man, he warned himself. You don’t ever want this man to think you’re laughing at him.
Grettirson leaned closer, until Peter could feel the admiral’s breath on his face.
“You lit-tle pissant!” the admiral said softly.
Raeder’s eyes snapped up in surprise and met the full force of Grettirson’s ice blue glare.
“You think you’ve put one over on me, don’t you?” the admiral asked him. He leaned closer. “You’re probably
laughing at me right now, aren’t you?”
No, sir! No laughing here, sir! But Peter could feel it tickling his ribs. He shook his head, trying to look sincere.
Oh, God, oh, God. Don’t smile, don’t smile. Sweat popped out on his forehead as he struggled manfully.
“Well let me tell you, boy,” the admiral’s teeth were clenched and muscles in his cheeks danced with the stress,
“you may think you’re getting away with something here, but you are in for a big surprise. I know my duty. No one
interferes with the performance of my duty. And my duty is to put glory-hungry loose cannons like you where you
can’t get good men killed.”
Grettirson paused, breathing heavily through his nose, his thin lips pressed tight, the color draining from his
cheeks. Peter sensed the tension in the older man’s muscles, as though the admiral would attack physically if Raeder
made a move. After what seemed an eternity Grettirson seemed to get himself under control once more.
“If you survive whatever party he has planned for you . . .” The Admiral smiled and nodded. “I’m going to issue
you an invitation you can’t refuse.”
Huh? Raeder thought, frantically trying to figure out exactly what the admiral meant. Does he mean he’s going to
court martial me, or he’s got an assignment that’s more of a killer than even Scaragoglu can come up with? There’s
a cheerful thought. Either choice would keep him up nights.
Grettirson poked the commander in the chest, hard.
“You just made yourself an enemy you can’t afford, boy.”
I haven’t got any enemies in my budget, sir, Raeder thought. Especially not admirals.
The admiral leaned in again. “Watch your back, Commander.” He hesitated and then snapped off a salute.
Raeder lowered his arm and watched Grettirson walk away. He shuddered.
There’s a guy who’s right on the edge. Even so, another part of him noted, the admiral couldn’t bring himself not
to salute. But it cost him. Raeder knew it wouldn’t be welcome, but he felt sorry for the guy. Losing your kid must be
the worst thing that can happen to anybody. Which did not mean he had any intention of taking it in the neck as
someone’s revenge against an uncaring universe.
So should I mention this . . . encounter to the Scaragoglu? No. It was doubtful that the Marine general would
appreciate something that smacked of whining. By the same token, he’d expect to be informed. Guess I’d better have
another drink with Sjarhir then.
Raeder continued thoughtfully on his way, feeling a great deal less jaunty than he had.
 To Peter’s surprise, when Scaragoglu’s secretary let him into the inner office, Captain Knott was seated before the
Marine general’s desk, sipping whiskey, looking as though he’d been there for some time. There was a slight smell
of fine tobacco and single-malt liquor tinging the inevitable Navy smell of recycled air and metal and synthetics.
Reader saluted and his seniors answered it. He could feel their eyes on him now, disconcertingly sharp, like the
targeting lasers of a seeker missile. He had the feeling that they were expecting him to do something clever.
Like . . . ?
“Sit down, Commander.” Scaragoglu leaned back in his chair and watched Peter seat himself, then he leaned
forward and pulled the chair up to his desk, leaning his elbows upon it. “I’ve been outlining the bare bones of the
plan to Captain Knott here,” he said, indicating the Captain with a gesture. “Now that you’re here, we can get down
to some of the specifics.
“We’re planning this as a thirty-day mission. The Invincible will enter Mollie space on what is apparently a raid-
scouting mission. We’ve got some good information that should bring you in on the skirts of a pirate we’ve been
tracking.” He passed a chip over to the captain. “That’s her dossier. She’s got three genuine Speeds, four Mollie-built
copies and one jury-rigged critter that still manages to do a lot of damage. The main ship is an old Earth-built bulk
freighter with souped-up engines. Our information says that the Mollies are so eager for the goods she’s carrying that
they’re sending an escort.” He smiled grimly and nodded at Knott. “That should give your people a little something
to sharpen their teeth on. Whatever else happens though, let at least one Mollie ship go crying home to the