"Gordon Eklund - Falling Toward Forever" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eklund Gordon)

stay clear of the windows.

There wasn't time to flush them out. All he could do was hurry
and hope.

He lost another man.

At last he thought sure he had found it. The hut was made of
stone and the door was a thick metal barrier. He stationed his
remaining two men one on each side of the door. Then he fired
at the lock. He pumped a dozen bullets into the door, clanging
and ringing, without the least effect. Suddenly, the door sprang
open. "Get down!" he shouted flopping into the dust.

But the two men with him were eager. While bullets rattled
the dust near his head, the men dashed through the door. Waller
shrugged, stood up, and followed them cautiously.

By the time he passed through the door, the room directly
behind was empty of any life. There was a dead manтАФone of his.
From a second dim room in the back, the sound of gunfire
continued. Waller darted forward and threw himself against the
wall beside the open door. He dropped his rifle and raised his
pistol, peeping around the corner.

It was too dark in there to see well after the bright sun
outside. He thought he saw a bodyтАФno, twoтАФupon the floor.
More clearly, he made out, stacked against the rear wall, piles of
crates and boxes. The weapons. So he had found the right place.
 But could he go in to claim them? Unable to see, he tried
listening. He thought of other places, other times, acquiring
patience. He watched the door behind him but no one entered. If
there was anyone in that room, he wanted to lure them out. Pop
them off one at a time. It was the only way.

But no one came out.

Finally, Waller sensed that it was past time to move. Until the
very end, he kept his ears poised for any disturbing noise. He
went around the corner and darted through the doorway.

Inside the room, he glimpsed a man. Soldier. He was armed,
aiming. Without forethought, Waller lifted his pistol, dropped to
a knee, and fired. The man screamed and his gun flew up.
Something hit Waller from behind. A bullet cracked his arm.
Clutching the pistol, he spun around.

Crouched in a corner he discovered his assailant. A woman. A
young white woman with blond hair and a pretty face. She wore
khaki desert garb but was not anything like a soldier.