"Michael Z. Williamson - Freehold 3 - Better to Beg Forgiveness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williamson Michael Z)

awkward than this route, but longer. Besides the Marines, there were a few support personnel passing
by. They were probably honest, but it was a lot of gear the team were each and collectively signed and
accountable for.

Once they were a way down the hall, Jason asked, "What the fuck happened to my Army? It used to be
professionals and they were competent." He glanced around in case he'd offended any lurkers. He didn't
seem to really care, but there was this professional image.

"Politics," Alex said. "The last SecGen drove out the good ones. Now we have a war with what's on
hand, which isn't much."


"It's scary. Depressing. Fuck." Jason apparently didn't feel like discussing it further.

The first point of business was to coordinate the operation. A female Aerospace Force Tech 1 in
spotless, almost unused battledress led them through cool, lit hallways. Her name tag said "White." With
her was an AF security NCO named Buckley. White had a pistol, he had an abbreviated combat load:
all weapons, no ruck.

The team had memorized the floor plan, but this area had not been on those plans. They swapped
guarded looks. Not in concern over the screwup. That was expected, inevitable. Their concern was
about the potential threats that had not been uncovered yet. Glancing around, they determined these
corridors were little used and rather old, with a hint of dust and must. Hopefully, that disuse meant they
were not a well-known route.

But they would be soon. There were other personnel walking around the maze, all potential leaks, and
one such group fell in with them.

A dusty officer with a ragged voice asked, "Agent Marlow?" His uniform was not spotless and unused.
He wore a well-broken-in harness and carried a scratched submachine gun, commo helmet, and
strapped gear. So did his men. They were all male, all serious business, and clearly professional.

"Here," Alex agreed.

"I'm Major Weilhung." He paused a moment with a hint of challenge in his expression, that seemed to
say,Yes, that is my name, can we dispense with stupid jokes and move on? "I'm commanding the
palace and movement security."

"Good, glad to meet you already," Alex said, offering his hand. They swapped firm grips. It was true,
and diplomatic. The six of them were the immediate escort for Bishwanath. They alone couldn't stop a
serious force. They could only get him out of line of fire, secure a room, and call for extraction. Weilhung
was the officer in charge of said extraction. Good relations with him were necessary. Thank God he
seemed competent.

"Yeah, likewise. It's a bit disorganized out there," Weilhung said.

Seeing the expression on his face, Alex said what Weilhung couldn't. "You mean it's a massive wringer
and sledgehammer party and all of our balls are hanging out?"

The AF escort choked and tried to stifle a grin. Unsuccessfully. She made no comment.