"Nyx Smith - Fade to Black" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Nyx)

like a stream of pure white liquid marble. Rico's escort paused at the entrance to the garden and motioned
him ahead.
The path led to the center of the garden, a circular patio surrounded by pillars set with busts of slags
from ancient history. Rico recognized two of them-the busts of Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar. The
man he was here to see liked to talk about slags like that sometimes.
The man was known as Mr. Victor. He sat looking at Rico from the round transparex table at the
center of the patio. He wore his thin black hair drawn back flat against his head to the nape of his neck,
where it blossomed into the brief bushy extravagance of a ponytail. That was the only extravagant aspect
of his appearance. The rest was severe, even grim. He wore a suit and tie of jet black, a crisp white shirt,
no jewelry of any kind. Based purely on his appearance, he might have been an undertaker or a corporate
exec. In truth, he was far more.
He smiled in greeting and waved briefly at the other transparex chair at the table. Rico nodded and
moved to sit. "How are you, my friend?" Mr. Victor said. "I'm good."
"One of the best." Rico shrugged.
"Only the truth, my friend." Mr. Victor smiled faintly, then snapped his fingers sharply and gestured.
The house-boy standing nearby brought a tray of coffee, which he served in small china cups. Not kaf, not
synthetic. The real thing, its aroma rich and flavorful. Like wine, Rico thought. Wine from the finest
vineyards of France. It smelled that good. The taste was indescribable.
Mr. Victor waved a hand and the houseboy went away. "I regret that I had some other business to
attend to this evening," Mr, Victor said. "That is why I could not see you immediately. Forgive the delay."
"Seguro," Rico said, nodding definitely. "But you don't owe me no explanations."
"I owe you much," Mr. Victor's expression turned sober, men abruptly filled with disgust. "These slags
I saw before you came... they make me ill. They are not men, you understand? They are like dogs. Eager
for any scrap I will feed them. There is nothing they would not do for a price."
Quietly Rico said, "They have no honor." Mr. Victor nodded, "No honor. No morals. No respect For
themselves or anyone else. One job is the same as the next. They would kill their own madras for enough
nuyen. They call themselves runners. 'Shadowrunners.'" Mr. Victor turned his head aside and leaned over
and made as if to spit "They step over the line into darkness, these dogs. They are criminals. I would not
deal with them except that I have nothing against setting dogs on other dogs. Criminals against other
criminals. I hope you do no hold that against me, my friend."
"I should judge what you do?" Rico replied. "I don't think so."
"That is your right. Your right as a man. I respect you. I respect your opinions. Tell me what you
think."
Rico did not have to think long. "I think you got good reasons for whatever you do. How you deal with
criminals is your business. Not mine."
"You hold generous opinions, my friend."
 "Maybe. Where it is due."
Mr. Victor sat still a few moments, looking off across the garden. When he spoke, he kept his voice
quiet, private. There was a sadness in his tone. "It's difficult to find work for a man such as you. There is
always work in the shadows, but some jobs you will not accept. I am always on the watch for the right kind
of work, you know this. Jobs appropriate not just for you, but for you and your team of specialists."
Rico nodded.
"You have heard the name L. Kahn?"
"Seguro," Rico said, again nodding. The name L Kahn was well known throughout the Newark
metroplex. With that name came many rumors but few verifiable facts. Rico understood the name to be a
Johnson, like a cipher. A name to be used where real names were never used. The man behind the name
"L. Kahn" was said to have juice, connections, money. It was said that he had contracted for some of the
biggest jobs ever pulled in the Newark plex.
"I can arrange for you to meet this man."
Rico didn't doubt it. Mr. Victor had juice of his own. "What's the deal?"