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

Snators green, standing by for release.

Release at will.
 He didn't need any more urging. The first group of snators left wakes, so
energetic was their water entry. The odor of decaying meat permeated that link.

No smell through the sensie-links? DeJahn snorted to himself, even as he
blocked the decay odor and the snators slowed, their snouts turning from side to
side, as if puzzled by the change, but they kept swimming downstream.

The second attack group had begun to slide through the marsh and reeds
toward the nodecaster on the low hillock to the south. The last three hundred yards
was across what amounted to mowed lawn, and deJahn would have to sacrifice one
of the snators to take out the sonic electric gating to the lawn--it might have been a
cricket field or pitch, whatever they called it.

Group three had a curving path through the public gardens, exposed most of
the way. That worried deJahn. Gatorlike creatures in the gardens would certainly
attract some attention, but then, if need be, he could push them into a run, and
snators could make speed.

Four and five had near-direct water routes, with only the last few hundred
yards exposed, but five had to cross a side road, supposedly with low traffic.

He flicked from image to image, flickering from snator to snator so fast that
twice the integrator blanked. The snators' binocular vision was clear, and there
wasn't much color. He wanted to get a better and quicker personal sense of locale
matched with the plot map, but he forced himself to slow down.

He did have another thirty standard minutes, and the snators were fast.

Group five was running ahead, but deJahn didn't see that it mattered. Better
ahead and clear than on sched and facing opposition.

Group three was already on target, less than sixty yards below the nodecaster
concealed in an artificial rock cliff slightly north of the center of the gardens.

One of the local patrollers was also there, and she had a stun-rifle out, leveling
it at the lead snator. DeJahn dropped the third snator into limited free hunt, because
its reactions and impulses were far faster than his through the links.

Her shot went wide. She did not get a second shot.

Someone else did, with a biodetonator.

Electrofire slammed back through the links, and deJahn shuddered, even as he
accelerated two of the gators toward the base of the cliff, seeking whatever access
points there might be. Neither of the two lagging snators could locate the attacker,
even as one registered projectiles screaming past it.
 Giving up on locating the attacker, deJahn pressed the laggards after the