"L. E. Modesitt - Spec-Ops" - читать интересную книгу автора (Modesitt L E)

some other reason. Like a sector-wide push in another few days.

He couldn't help but turn toward Meralez.

They both nodded, but so slightly that the major didn't notice, then returned
their eyes to the presentation. The mess had darkened, to enhance the holo image of
the target, a hulking industrial dinosaur that might have come from a hundred years
earlier in NorAm.

"... water intakes are standard bioscrub ... strike team three has already
planted z-clambers . . . intake volumes are down fifteen percent..."

The major droned on, and deJahn managed to catch what he needed to know,
and that was that most of the techs would be on late-disengagement. Another sure
sign of trouble.

The last power plant image vanished, replaced by three lists. "Check for your
assignments here."

DeJahn checked. He had the main pod, but it didn't say what he'd be
handling.

"... any questions?" the major finally concluded.

"Why the late disengage, sir?"

DeJahn didn't see the speaker; but it sounded like Chihouly.

"A number of the targets require higher-than-normal acquisition ratios, and
that requires greater tech presence and persistence than can be obtained through
late-stage free-ops."

"Any other questions?"

No one spoke. There wasn't any point to it, not after the major's last answer.

"Duty stations will commence at 0900. Dismissed."

The techs all rose, stiffened, and stood while the major departed.
 That left thirty minutes to kill. DeJahn got some coffee. When he looked
around for Meralez, she and Castaneda had left.

He sat back down.

Chihouly sat at the next table. Neither one said a word.

Finally, fifteen minutes later, deJahn got up and tossed the disposable mug
into the reformulation bin and walked toward the pod.

Meralez was one of the first into the pod, after Vielho, and deJahn was right