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

weapon against her kidney and fastened magnetic shackles firmly
around her wrists. Grasping them, he pulled her around and out of
her car, his rifle now under her breastbone. About ten meters from
the vehicle they stopped. Her escort stepped back and slung his
weapon as a woman with an explosion of red hair around her
helmet stood in front of her. The woman's face was mostly hidden
by a darkened visor, but her mouth was visible and totally
emotionless. Her weapon was unwavering.

Kendra heard more orders from the first guard, who was behind
her now. "Spread your legs wide. Wider. Place your hands on top
of your head." She did so, feeling the shackles bite into her wrists.
Her shoulders stretched back awkwardly.

She had expected to be searched by the woman, was surprised
that the second male guard was approaching. He started at her
head, mussing her hair, crushing the fabric of her collar while
looking for small items, slid his hands down her back, over her
hips, down each trouser leg and into the tops of her boots. He
stood and walked around in front as the other two guards moved to
keep him out of line of fire. He resumed his search. He pulled at
her lips with gloved hands. He then felt along her sleeves and
under her arms in a fashion that might have tickled had she not
been so scared. He reached inside her shirt and felt the neckline
again, then ran fingers along the contour of her bra and grabbed
both her breasts. By the time she realized it was neither an intimate
gesture nor an assault, but still part of a very thorough search, he
had felt around her waistband and clutched at her crotch. He slid
down her legs again and checked the fasteners of her boots.
Finished at last, he stepped back.

Kendra said, "I need asylum. My name is—"

"Silence. You may see the ambassador later."

He unslung his weapon and all three guards moved back. She was
directed inside, the three standing well clear and keeping their
weapons on her. Not a word was spoken to her and Kendra didn't
feel like offering anything. She was taken down a service elevator,
marched in front of a door and stopped.

The woman approached this time and quickly unfastened every
button, snap, zip and rip on Kendra's clothing. She stepped around
behind Kendra, grabbed a leg and pulled off a boot and sock. She
repeated the procedure from the other leg, then yanked her pants
and underwear down together and pulled them off one foot at a
time. Reaching up, she uncharged the shackles, whisked them
away and pulled Kendra's arms down behind her. Shirt and bra
were pulled off, leaving her naked. A wand ran over her, seeking
anything dense, metallic or electronic, and while she expected it to