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

Jack paused. “Did you hear someone moving in the outer office?”
“I canceled my appointments for today,” said Merlin, “so that we would not be disturbed,” The
magician’s brow wrinkled in annoyance. “Strange, I sense . . .”
Before Merlin could finish the sentence, the door to the inner room burst open and a half dozen
men dressed in green combat fatigues, carrying Uzi machine guns, crowded into the chamber.
“Shit,” said Hugo.
“Death,” replied a tall, bearded man with shaven head. “Death to our quarry and his friends.”
Savagely, he squeezed the trigger of his Uzi. Nothing happened. At his sides, his men aimed and
fired. Again without results.
“A dampening spell on the office makes gunfire impossible,” declared Merlin smugly. “Those
weapons are useless.”
Snarling with rage, the bearded man slammed his gun to the ground. Angrily, he pulled a huge
knife from a sheath strapped to his side. “Now they die!”
“You talk too much, baldie,” declared Cassandra, A flawlessly executed spin kick ended with
her right foot slamming into the bearded man’s jaw. His teeth exploded across the room. His mouth a red
ruin, the man fell backward, his eyes wide with shock.
Howling wildly, his followers reached for their own knives. Jack, Megan, and Merlin retreated to
the rear of the room, knowing they’d only be in the way. Six normal humans, even trained assassins,
were no match for one angry Amazon. Not to mention a slightly out-of-shape Valkyrie and two fiendish
ravens.
With a war cry of “For Asgard!” that nearly shattered the chamber’s glass windows, Freda
Collins hurtled forward at the astonished killers. For a woman her size, she moved with astonishing
quickness.
Effortlessly, Jack’s mother grabbed two of the men by the neck, raised them into the air, and
smashed them together like two bricks. They collided so hard that Jack could hear the sound of their
bones breaking across the room. Snorting in disgust, Freda threw the limp pair against the office wall.
They collapsed lifelessly to the floor.
Hugo and Mongo made short work of the third attacker. Wings thrashing furiously, they slashed
at his unprotected face with their claws and beaks. His head spurting blood, the man collapsed facedown
on the carpet. One concluding shudder and he was still. Remembering the raven’s earlier remarks about
poking out eyes, Jack felt no desire to learn how that luckless individual had expired.
The last two killers actually managed to draw their weapons before Cassandra reached them.
That proved to be their undoing. Faced with two attackers armed with knives, the Amazon reacted by
instinct alone. Her deadly hands moving faster than the eye could follow, she killed both men instantly.
Jack clenched his fists in frustration. Of the six attackers, only the leader remained alive.
Anxiously, Jack glanced at the bearded man, his back pressed to the doorframe. Face white with shock,
the assassin surveyed the carnage surrounding him. Bloody lips moved as if in prayer.
“Stop him,” cried Jack, but it was already too late. Without a sound, the bearded man slumped
to the floor, dead. There would be no learning anything from this group. Jack had a feeling that
questioning prisoners was going to prove quite difficult.

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“ eaklings,” said Freda Collins, snorting in derision, staring at the bodies littering the floor. She was
barely breathing hard. Daintily, she cracked her knuckles. “Odin would have sent us packing if my sisters
and I brought ones such as these back to Valhalla.”
Mentally, Jack filed a note to ask his mother someday about her adventures as one of the
Choosers of the Slain. It was an intriguing thought, but there were more pressing concerns to worry