"duane,.dianne.-.spider.man.-.octopus.agenda" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duane Diane)

Jim was cold, he ached, and this guy, though still horribly
frightening, had proved himself human enough to get on his nerves. "Any
promises to keep?" he asked.

The man with the tentacles smiled at him, a smile Jim Heffernan didn't
want to see again for the rest of his life, but he refused to flinch or
look away. If this character was going to kill him, or have him
killed, then nothing he could say or do would prevent that.

"Some say humor is the greatest gift," the man said, mockery edging
that dark voice. "I have little time for it myself, and even less
interest in gifts. I am more concerned with what I can take.
Nonetheless, gallows humor can be appreciated. If I were you, I would
not linger here."

He and his remaining followers vanished into the dark. Jim waited a
long time before he dared to move, and then every movement was an agony
of cramp, or cold, or cut-off circulation from the tightness of the
binder on his wrists. A voice in his brain yelled at him: Run from
here, run as far and as fast as you can. A feeling of dread rose from
him like a fogmor like the wisp of smoke curling out of a gun barrel
from that dark and silent hole in the ground. But he wasn't about to
leave his friends and watch mates behind. No, not even if Hank
hadKrazy- Glued his lunch box shut last week .... But he still managed
to function. He concentrated first on getting himself as loose as he
could. The damn plastic binders were still very tight, but he
managedmwith some wriggling and a pain that made him think he'd
possibly dislocated his wrist or one of the little bones in the
hand--to get his crossed arms

under his butt, and then, more slowly, to fold his legs tight enough
to get them through the looped arms as well. This involved much
squirming, pushing off one shoe so he could fit the foot through, and
bracing the other foot against Hank, who was convenient and (at the
moment) not terribly conscious. After that, when he could get to his
feet again, it was just a matter of hopping around a little to get the
other shoe back on, and then finding something sharp.

Fortunately, sharp things were not in short supply around this
particular building site. The men in black had left the
carborundum-tipped drill bit lying with its end accessible, shoved
against a wall, but not flush against it. The disk-shaped digging end
of the bit had two sets of blades: the outer set consisting of small
plates of industrial diamond and carborundum set alternately in a
herringbone pattern right around the face of the bit. Jim picked one
blade of the herringbone and started sawing away at the plastic
restrainer with it.

It took a long time. Jim hated the sight of his own blood, but he saw