"Williamson,.Michael.Z.-.Freehold" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williamson Michael Z)

"Great. An obvious decoy. Any sign of the real threat?" the
ambassador asked. The UN and several of its member nations
loved to play spy games. Observers here, line taps there, always
some kind of low-level harassment.

"Not yet. He says his people are ready, though," Marx confirmed.
He'd made sure of that himself.

"They always are," she nodded. At least the espionage kept her
security people alert. "Keep me informed. I have to smooth out
some details between GM North America and GM Freehold. The
UN Secretary of External Trade is the problem. Everyone else
sees the advantages of the deal."

"Yes, ma'am."
* * *

Kendra became attentive as a truck pulled up to the gates. She
started the motor and waited. Her plan was to pull through after the
delivery of whatever cleared the entrance. Cautiously, she gave the
motor a bit of rev to ensure it was working. It was, of course. She
gasped her breath out in furious realization of how panicky she
was. She hadn't realized she'd been holding it and didn't realize
she was holding the next one. Watching the truck, she tried to
judge distances and space while keeping an eye on traffic. There'd
be an opening in the flow right after that red car in her mirror.

The gates were already sliding shut on their powered rails. She
stomped the accelerator while swearing, yanked the wheel hard
and pulled right behind the red vehicle while almost crashing into a
pillar as she bounced inside the embassy grounds. She
immediately had to brake to avoid the truck, which was stopped for
inspection.

An armored guard leaped in front of her, pointing one of the brutal-
looking weapons that the Grainne military used. He took a step
sideways as she locked her car in park and barked orders that
were clearly audible inside her little Mazda Jog as several other
guards materialized from somewhere.

"Shut the motor off! Place your hands on top of the steering wheel!
Reach over with your right hand and open the door!"

She moved her left hand to comply and he bellowed, "Right hand!
Place it back on the wheel! Eyes front!" She did as he ordered,
eyes nervously leaving the gun, guts knotted in fear, and saw
movement out of the corner of her left eye. One of the other
guards was crawling under the area swept by the door, in case of a
boobytrap. He rose next to her, placing the gaping maw of his