"Steven Gould - Jumper 02 - Reflex" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gould Stephen Jay)

He turned back to Millie. "We'd like you to wear this on your person. It's a GPS tracker, a
backup should they get close enough to snatch you."

She stared at it. "On my person? That's a little vague, isn't it? Not in my purse or jacket, right?"

Anders colored slightly. "The bra is probably your best bet. Underneath, to, uh, secure it." He
handed her the case. "I'll be outside." He left the office, closing the door behind him.

Alone, the humor drained away and she felt small and frightened. She was wearing a sports bra
under her blouse and when she pushed the case between her breasts it stayed there, without any
telltale bulges visible, even before she rebuttoned the blouse.

Again, she put on Davy's leather jacket, taking a moment to bury her face in the lining and
inhaling deeply. "Oh, Davy. What have you gotten into?"

The route she'd given Anders wasn't her usual one, but a slight detour past a city playground.
She stopped at the fence, watching mothers with preschool-age kids playing. One woman under the
trees was being buried in leaves by twin girls. All three of them were giggling insanely and Millie felt
tears come to her eyes even as she smiled. "Oh, Davy," she muttered. "I wish you'd knocked me up
before you disappeared."
 Enough of that! She walked on, trying to push the thought away but she wasn't just worried
about Davy. She was scared she'd never have the chance to have his children.

She looked around more obviously, looking for Anders's men and had to admit she couldn't
really pick them out. This was fairly close to the university so there were a lot of pedestrians and
vehicle traffic.

Only once was she sure. A blond man in an OSU sweatshirt with a backpack slung over one
shoulder passed her, going the same direction. The bright orange silkscreen of the university mascot,
Pistol Pete, on the sweatshirt had obviously never been washed and there were still creases from a
hanger standing up on the shoulders. The clincher, though, was a coil of flesh-colored wire trailing
down his neck from his right ear.

Orange is not your color.

She halfway expected Anders to be waiting in the lobby of the condominiums but he wasn't
there. There also wasn't anybody on the stairs or in the hallway. Did they even check the building?

She hesitated before her door. God dammit, this was my refuge. Now it feels like a trap.
She started to turn away when it opened.

"Come on in, Ms. Harrison-Rice. It's all clear."

It was Anders.

She glared. "I don't suppose you needed a key."

He shrugged apologetically. "It was better than hanging around in the hall."

She pushed past him. There was another man sweeping an antennaed box across the far wall