"Michael Stackpole "Rogue Squadron"" - читать интересную книгу автора

interrogation because his boss, Billey, had his people dose themselves with
lotiramine. It metabolizes the interrogation drug and can induce chemical
amnesia or, in some cases, death."
Kirtan gave Bastra a cold smile. "Your medical scan shows elevated levels of
lotiramine in your blood."
""I guess you'll just have to kill me the old-fashioned way, then." Bastra
smiled openly, flashing white teeth in a thick, stubble-coated face. "Since
Vader was the last Jedi, I guess you'll even have to get your hands dirty doing
it."
"Hardly."
"You never were one to break a sweat doing any work on Corellia, were you,
Loor?" Bastra slumped back against the bulkhead. "I don't think you would have
fit in even if you'd made an effort. You were always your own worst enemy."
"I wasn't meant to fit in. You were Corellian Se-curity, I was Imperial
Intelligence attached to your office." Kirtan forced himself to calm down a bit
and unknotted his fists. Lowering his hands to his sides, he tugged on the hem
of his black tunic. "And now you are your own worst enemy. You have ac-celerated
blastonecrosis."
"What? You're lying."
"No, no I'm not." Kirtan let pity slip into his voice. "The lotiramine is very
effective in masking the tracer enzymes for the disease. Here, on this ship, our
medical facilities are far superior to those you would find among Rebels. We
were able to pick out the enzymes."
Gil Bastra's shoulders slumped and his grey head bowed. His hands came together
around his bulging stomach. "The fatigue, loss of appetite. I thought I was just
getting old."
"You are. And you are dying." The Intelligence officer idly stroked his sharp
chin with a long-fingered hand. "I can do nothing about the former problem, but
there are ways to cure blastonecrosis."
"And all I have to do to be cured is turn in my friends?"
Looking down upon the grey lump of a man across from him, Kirtan felt
momentarily embar-rassed by memories of having feared Gil Bastra's judgment of
him and his work. Bastra had not been his direct supervisor, but he had been the
one to as-sign officers to work with Intelligence, and Bastra's lack of respect
had been reflected through the per-sonnel sent to work with Kirtan. Every time
that Kirtan had felt in control and superior, Bastra had managed to undercut him
and shame him.
Is this another of those times? Kirtan caught himself and nodded slowly. "There
is more fight in you than you would want me to believe there is. I know you
fashioned the new identities for your con-federates and did a very good job of
it, too. In fact,
you only made mistakes in your own cover. Still I knew that you'd find yourself
a freighter and hop around the galaxy, as your heart pleased. You were too old
to change your lifestyle to something totally alien to avoid detection. You
decided to gamble and now you have lost."
The old man's head came up slowly. Kirtan saw fire still smoldering in the blue
eyes. "I'll give you nothing."
"Yes, yes, of course you won't." The Intelligence man laughed lightly. "You
forget, I learned inter-rogation from a number of very good people, in-cluding
yourself. I will get information from you. When I do-and you know I will-Corran