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

"My friend, I am a businessman," Mr. Victor said. "I am the man in the middle. I bring prospective
clients together with specialists such as yourself. Whether the client is a businessman like me or the party
offering an original contract is of no importance to my trade. You see why I am reminding you of this?"
I
"You only got some of the details."
"Si, a few. L. Kahn asks to be connected with an experienced team possessing a broad range of
capabilities. He has said that the contract is for a high-risk job, and that the pay will be commensurate to
that risk. I am led to believe that the assignment comes from high places. A success here could add great
weight to your reputation."
"What's the run involve?"
"It was described to me as being in the nature of a recovery job. Naturally, I thought you would
approve."
"What's being recovered?"
"That is for L. Kahn to say."
"Could be a datasnatch."
"It could be many things, my friend,"
"I heard L. Kahn contracted for the Winter Systems job."
"That is only rumor."
"Still..."
Winter Systems had contracts for police services in Manhattan, Union City, and other places around
the New York-New Jersey megaplex. The Winter Systems job had involved the kidnapping and murder of
several Winter Systems execs, and, incidentally, a conspiracy that had touched practically every major corp
in the megaplex.
The murders were what mattered to Rico. He did not do killing for hire. Neither did he do kidnapping.
Neither did anyone in his group. "You trust this slag L. Kahn?"
"Can anyone be trusted, my friend?"
"Some can. Some can't."
Mr. Victor paused for a few moments, then said, "As you well know, there are no guarantees in this
life. I would say that L. Kahn can be trusted. More than some, less than others. I have not heard that L.
Kahn has ever broken a contract or betrayed a trust. You must decide for yourself, my friend. Merely tell
me now whether I should arrange a meet."
Rico thought about it, and nodded, "Si."
"Consider it done, my friend."
3
Thorvin didn't much notice the first few bangs and pings against the sides of the van. He was busy.
He'd managed to pull the G-6 torque converter out of the drive train of an otherwise ruined Gaz-Willys
Nomad. That was like finding gold. The G-6 was built like an anvil, durable as a slab of tempered steel.
Finding one amid the wasted, ghost-haunted toxic graveyard of Newark's Sector 13 was a freaking miracle,
though it didn't really surprise him. He'd been hunting through the crumbling projects and derelict tenements
around the old airport for years. That was how he'd dug up the City of Linden no-parking sign, now hanging
in his garage. And who saw any of those standing around anymore? Thorvin knew there were treasures
here, minor mechanical marvels, gleaming motes of engineering majesty not apparent, much less
comprehensible to the ordinary eye. He just hadn't expected to stumble over, of all things, a G-6 torquer.
The prizes to be had in this sector ran heavily on the side of wafer-guided electronics, appliances, household
drek.
Something clanged loudly against the side of the van. With that rose a howling that sounded decidedly
unnatural.
Thorvin paused and looked up.
When the van starting rocking back and forth like a boat turned crossways to a heaving
sea-accompanied by a storm of clanging and banging-he dropped his chrome ratchet and can of lubricant