"Molly Brown - Community Service" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Molly)

resist, and the more upset they got, the more he loved it. I couldn't
blame him for that. The poor guy was stuck monitoring sector nine, the
most boring sector you could imagine. Semi-rural. Nothing ever happened in
sector nine.
The look on that man's face as he shook his fist at me was so comical I
almost started laughing myself. Then I remembered I was supposed to be
angry. I bit my lip and stared straight ahead at my screen.
Jimmy got out of his chair and sat down on top of my desk. He bent
forward, blocking my view of the terminal. "Nora, is something the
matter?"
I shook my head "no".
"So how come the silent treatment?"
"Silent treatment?" I asked innocently.
"You've hardly spoken a word to me all morning."
Hurrah, I thought. He'd finally noticed. "Haven't I? Well maybe I just
thought you might be all talked out after your long conversation with
Officer Stone last night."
Jimmy's mouth dropped open. "You mean Francie? Is that what this is all
about?"
"All what about? And will you please get off my desk before I punch out
all your teeth?"
He switched back to his chair. "Don't be like that, Nora! We were only
talking about work."
"So that's why the two of you went off to sit alone in a booth, is it? So
you could talk about work?"
"Exactly." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "There's things going on
that we're not supposed to know about. Since Francie's moved upstairs,
she's overheard some pretty amazing stuff."
"Like what?"
"Apparently there's some big -" Jimmy stopped mid-sentence. "I'll tell you
another time," he said, nodding towards something behind me.
I turned and saw a man in the blue and gold torso armour of the Airborne
Patrol walk into the room.
Everyone looked up. As far as we were concerned, this guy was one of the
elite; his uniform had shoulders out to there, and it looked as if he had
enough firepower hanging from his hip to blow up an entire block.
The airborne cop took off his helmet, revealing an angular face framed by
a tangled mop of curly black hair, and began to move slowly up and down
the rows of terminals, as if he was looking for someone or something.
I directed my attention back to the bottleneck in my sector. A truck had
started backing into Valley View Road. Great, I thought, just what I do
not need.
I looked up a minute later and saw the airborne cop looming over the back
of my terminal. He looked about twenty-five - a couple of years younger
than me - with large dark eyes and full lips. Dishy. "Can I help you,
Officer?" I asked him.
He raised a hand to his forehead, then hurried from the room.
The guy was waiting in Larry's Bar when we got off shift. I didn't
recognize him at first, without the blue and gold. He was sitting at the
bar, staring straight ahead, a half-empty glass in front of him. Dressed