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

them.”
Jack suspected the Amazon was using the heavy traffic as an excuse. She hated running from a
fight. No matter what the odds. He only hoped Cassandra’s honor wouldn’t get them both killed.
The Amazon grunted in satisfaction. “Here they come. The first car is making a move. They’re
pulling up on your side. Obviously, you’re the primary objective, Jack. These guys want you dead.”
“Terrific,” said Jack. “You have a plan?”
“Of course,” said the Amazon. “Something nice and easy and unexpected. Grab the sack. Don’t
be afraid. There’s nothing in it that can hurt you. At least, not as much as a bullet.”
Immeasurably cheered by that remark, Jack reached behind him and pulled the cloth bag onto his
lap. Something large and active wiggled on his legs. But he was too concerned about the assassins to
care.
“Now what?” he asked, terribly aware of the other car’s hood only a few feet away from their
rear bumper.
“Shooting accurately from a moving car isn’t easy, even for trained killers,” said Cassandra. “The
man in back won’t risk firing until they’re right on our side. Loosen the string on the top of that sack. Be
ready. When I yell, toss the bag out your window. And then duck.”
Jack untied the cord on the cloth bag. Putting both his hands beneath it, he waited for
Cassandra’s command. Behind them, a motor roared.
“Now!” the Amazon shouted, and spun the steering wheel to the right.
Metal screeched against metal as the Buick slammed hard into the black Cadillac. Jack caught a
glimpse of the driver of the other car, feverishly fighting to keep his vehicle on the road. Then, obeying
orders, Jack hurled the cloth bag out the window. Sending it hurtling directly into the front seat of the
other car.
Immediately he ducked, expecting the roar of gunfire. Instead, there came a horrifying scream,
the screech of tires, and the sound of steel hitting concrete. Seeing the ghost of a smile appear on
Cassandra’s lips, Jack slowly straightened in his seat.
“Perfectly executed,” declared Cassandra, her gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. “They collided
with the cement guardrail on the shoulder. The Cadillac is pretty well demolished, but that’s their worry.
No other vehicles involved, but traffic behind them has slowed to a crawl. As usual, nobody on the
highway can drive past an accident without gawking for a few seconds. By the time their buddies in the
following car make it past the scene, we’ll be downtown.”
“What was in that bag?” asked Jack.
“A snake,” said Cassandra. “A nice big one I found in the woods. Not the least bit dangerous,
but it sure looked vicious. I thought it might distract the driver at a crucial instant. Guess I was right.
Surprising how the coolest professionals are suckers for large, ugly, nasty reptiles.”
Jack drew in a deep breath, glad he had not asked Cassandra earlier about the contents of the
bag. He was not particularly fond of reptiles himself.
“They were both mortal,” he said, as much to himself as his companion. “Neither of them were
supernatural.”
“I noticed,” said the Amazon. “It looks like not all of your enemies are mythological beings. Any
idea who the killers might be? Or why they are after you?”
“Unfortunately,” said Jack, “I suspect I know the truth. Something the first killer said set off alarm
bells in my mind. I think I’ve finally placed the reference. And I’m not happy about it.”
 He paused, gathering his thoughts together. The more he considered the clues, the more positive
he grew that he had correctly deduced the identity of his attackers.
“You’re wrong about the supernatural element,” he continued. “The evil mastermind behind these
assassination attempts is a particularly notorious mythical being. He’s definitely not mortal. The problem
for us is that his followers are. They’re usually the dregs and lowlifes of society. In these times, that
means there could be thousands of them. And most likely, they’re all programmed to try to kill
me---without any regard for their own safety.”