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

and a third standing beside the door to the balcony, looking outside through a part in the drapes.

"Do you plan on moving in with me?"

"No, ma'am. We've been sweeping for bugs and to get the layout. There's a unit available on the
next floor up. We're arranging for its use."

She looked around. The climbing rope and plug of concrete from the cliff house was still in the
corner. When she'd arrived back here, this morning, it had seemed spacious. With the three men
present, it felt like the walls were closing in.

Anders must've seen this. "We'll be out of here shortly."

Millie swallowed. "Leaving me alone?" Make up your mind, girl. Do you want them here or
not?

"We've put a camera in the hall and we'll be watching the entrances to the building. There's the
three, right?"
 Millie shook her head. "Four. There's a stairway from the parking garage in the southeast corner.
Then there's the front and back door, and the one by the pool, though they'd have to go over the
fence to get to that one." She felt her breathing slow. "Where do you monitor the camera?"

"We've got a van parked down the street." At her look of alarm he added, "But there'll be men
on the premises, closer."

She didn't know whether that made her feel better or not, but she said, "All right. I'm going to
take a shower and change. Um, you didn't put any cameras in the apartment did you?"

Anders shook his head. "No... but you should be aware—" He licked his lips. "Well, the
tracking device I gave you has a microphone."

Before she could say anything he quickly added, "I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier, but I
realized that no matter what you thought about the invasion of your privacy, you wouldn't tolerate the
invasion of your clients' privacy."

Her initial surge of anger subsided. "Quite right. We'll have to talk about this, but right now I
want a shower."

She shut the bedroom door and stood, her back to it, her hands over her face, rubbing her
eyes. First things first. She dug the tracker/bug out of her bra and put it on the bedside clock radio,
right on the speaker grill, then turned on the news. Hope that didn't hurt anybody's ears. Only then
did she feel like she could continue into the bathroom.

She ran the water hot and let it stream across her face. Then, like melting ice, the tears came and
the sobs and the fear and grief. Davy, Davy, Davy—you better be all right!



The next morning she met Anders in the parking garage and followed him to a full-sized custom
van with mirrored windows whose chrome roof rack barely cleared the cement beams above. He