"Steve Perry - The Man Who Never Missed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Steven)

The Sub-Befalhavare went into poison contractions; the strength distribution
of her muscles causing her to sit back in her chair, her fists drawn up to her
shoulders and her face clenched into a snarl. She held onto the smoothbore
pistol at an almost classic port-arms position, pointed by her right ear.

It should not have been funny, but it struck Khadaji that way. He laughed,
thought about it for a few seconds, and decided to add a touch more. There was
a flower arrangement on the woman's desk and he pulled a long-stemmed green
rose from the vase and stuck it into the barrel of the smoothbore. One had to
keep one's sense of humor, after all. And it could be a clue for a wise man. A
green rose— a jade flower.... He doubted the Sub-Befalhavare would think it
funny, but humor always depended upon one's viewpoint, whether you were the
one who stepped on the banana peel or an observer.

Time to leave. Khadaji sprinted from the office and into the street. Other
troops would be coming and he wanted to be back at the Jade Flower by the time
somebody started a net working in the city.

He jumped the downed figure of a quad member near the door and started down
the street. Another easy station, he thought, as he ran. He shook his head a
little. He had to watch that, the feeling of invincibility, the sense of
right-ness which made him feel as if he could not fail. That was dangerous,
that kind of thinking. Just because he knew who he was and what he was doing,
there was no guarantee he'd succeed. Over-confidence had ruined more than one
man, especially men with grand plans who let the big vision cloud the details
of the smaller workings. The tendency was to feel as if there was some kind of
benevolent spirit backing him, the hand of Fate guiding and protecting him
because he was its instrument, and that was dangerous. He was fourteen years
past his Realization and he still had to fight the sense of superiority it had
given him.

He heard voices approaching from a side street and slid to a halt in the
shadow of a trash-recycle hopper. A pair of quads ran by, heading back toward
the T-plex. Close.

Yes. It could happen at any time. A stray bullet triggered by a falling
trooper could do it, a slip while running from pursuers, any one of a hundred
things. For nearly six months he'd been careful and lucky.

He ran back toward the Jade Flower. He recognized that his worry meant the
time for the end was getting nearer. It gave him a fluttery stomach to think
about it, a tingle in the muscles of his buttocks even as he ran.

"Have a nice nap, Chief?"

"I feel much better, Butch. How's business?"

"Goin' pretty good, now. I heard Anjue on the com a few minutes ago, he said
when Sister Clamp came in, fifteen troopers joined the line."