"Robert Weinberg - Logical Magician 02 - A Calculated Magician" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weinberg Robert)

Reaching down, she lifted a cloth sack off the ground. Inside it, something wiggled. “I dislike
modern weapons,” said the Amazon. “Guns are so... uncivilized. So I brought along my own secret
weapon.”
“You’re expecting another attack?” he asked.
“They found us at the camp,” answered Cassandra. “I discovered a radio transmitter back in the
woods. Which probably means that their confederates realize the first attack failed. Chances seem pretty
good that they’ll try again. I’d be very surprised if we make it to the city without an encounter.”
“But we’ll be on the highway,” he declared. “Nobody fires a gun on a highway.”
Cassandra smiled. “Ever hear of drive-by shootings, my naive young friend? Assassins don’t
worry about breaking city or state ordinances,” She patted the mysterious sack, which shook violently
under her touch. “Better we’re prepared than dead.”
Jack nodded unhappily, Cassandra actually appeared quite cheerful. Which was not surprising.
As an Amazon, she lived for danger. Violent action defined her existence. The one thing she never
walked away from was a fight.
“You think they’ll try an ambush on the road instead of waiting till we get to the city?” he asked,
opening the door to the Buick.
“If I wanted to kill someone,” answered the Amazon, sliding into the driver’s seat, “I couldn’t
think of a better location than the Chicago highway system.”
“The traffic is murder,” admitted Jack.
“The major roads are always under construction,” stated Cassandra, turning the key in the
ignition. “There’s potholes big enough to swallow a truck. Drivers in this area are the worst tailgaters in
the country. Entrance ramps barely exist, making high-speed merges a crapshoot. Everyone drives
twenty miles above the posted limit.” She grinned. “Who would notice a few guys shooting at each other
from car windows?”
“Well,” said Jack, settling back in the sedan’s lush seat, “at least this car’s built like a tank. I
remember you saying that when we bought it. And it does have its secrets.”
The Buick was no ordinary vehicle. It had been rebuilt inside and out by Fritz Grondark, one of
the fabled dwarven mechanics. Already possessing one of the biggest engines ever put in an automobile,
the magically enhanced Buick was capable of outrunning anything on the road. Incredibly responsive to
its driver’s touch, it could make impossible turns and stop in half the time of a normal vehicle. The
unmarked condition of its exterior proclaimed that it could not be scratched or dented. Jack wondered if
that also meant the car was bulletproof. He hoped so.
Stepping on the gas, Cassandra gunned the car onto the country road that led from the trailer
camp to the highway into town. Nervously, Jack kept a lookout for anyone following them.
The first fifteen minutes passed without incident. Jack liked jazz while Cassandra preferred
classical music. After much debate, they settled on an oldies station. Weekday traffic was light and they
made good time. Cassandra kept their car in the middle lane, maintaining several car lengths between
them and any other vehicles. The mysterious sack remained untouched in the backseat.
“Seat belt fastened?” she casually asked Jack, adjusting the rearview mirror as she spoke.
“Of course,” he answered. “Why?”
“It’s against the law to sit in the front without your belt buckled,” said the Amazon. “Besides,
there’s two cars coming up fast behind us. I think company’s arrived.”
 Turning, Jack caught a glimpse of a pair of black Cadillacs a half dozen car lengths behind them.
There were two men in each car---one driving while the other was in the rear seat. Jack noted they were
dressed in the same khaki greens as his earlier attackers.
“If they’re pros,” said Cassandra, “one car will pull up on our side while the other remains
behind. That gives them a second chance if we manage to evade the first attempt.”
“Wonderful news,” said Jack, slumping in his scat. “Can’t we outrun them?”
“Not with this traffic,” said Cassandra, waving at the congestion ahead. “There’s too many trucks
for us to weave safely in and out of traffic. We’re moving at a steady fifty. Don’t worry. We can take