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

If it worked, it would serve and if it failed, well, there were risks in
everything. As Subru had put it, one could be flattened by a ground-effect
tank while crossing the street. Life was always shadowed by death.

Preparations were simple. Khadaji took the container of extra spetsdod darts
from his desk, along with the writing pad with the number of casualties from
the hidden box under his desk and dropped them into a public disposal. There
was a flash as the unit's lasers ignited the rigged packets. The disposal was
built to take worse and now that evidence was gone. If nothing else, the
legend was safe.

He walked back to the Jade Flower and used the public com just outside the
fresher. As he waited for the connection to be made, he looked around, taking
in the sights and sounds and smells of the pub. It was all very sharp,
diamond-clear, made so he realized by the fact this might be the last time he
would see it. Interesting how a man's mind worked—

"Befalhavare Creg's office."

Khadaji turned his attention to the com. "This is Emile Khadaji, owner of the
Jade Flower. I'd like to speak to the Befalhavare."

"Hold, sir, I'll get the Sub—"

"Negative, mister. I need the Old Man himself."

"Sir, Befalhavare Creg is in conference at the moment and cannot be disturbed.
If you would like to leave a message, you will be contacted when—"

"Listen, mister, I am holding 'Ears Only' material for your C.O. You don't
want to be the one who kept him from hearing it ASAP."

There was a pause. Khadaji could imagine the soldier's thoughts. There were
procedures, standing orders which were supposed to be followed. Deviation from
such could mean his ass; on the other hand, if Khadaji—a man of some local
standing—was holding 'Ears Only' material and wasn't put through, the Old Man
might use somebody's balls for marbles. Either way was a risk. It would depend
upon how bright the clerk was.

He was bright. "Hold a moment, sir, I'll put you through."

Khadaji grinned into the comset.

The Old Man was not one to waste words. "What?"

"Befalhavare Creg, Emile Khadaji, I'm the owner—"

"I know who you are, sir. What is your business rattling my clerk?"

Khadaji smiled again. "I know who the leaders of the Shamba Forces are."