"Evans,.Linda.-.Sleipnir" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Linda)My lips and throat were dry. I fumbled for a canteen and swallowed a sip. I didn't dare drink more; no telling how long this half-full canteen would have to last. Once it was secure again, I leaned back and blew out my breath in a gusting sigh. "What a mess." Most people in my shoes would've had the sense either to go quietly mad, or to forget the whole thing had ever happened. Johnson would have crackedЧand, in point of fact, had. Nobody else involved had even come close to admitting what was going on, probably not even to themselves. Gary . . . I swore again. Gary might have believed me. Had believed, in fact, even before I met him. Not that it had done him any good. Regret was also a waste of time. I needed to get my carbide lantern relit, see what I was up against. I hadn't just spent three years guarding nuclear missilesЧand playing pussyfoot with half the terrorist groups in the worldЧfor nothing. I had survived everything the Army and the ragheads and Odin could throw my way. I owed myselfЧnot to mention Gary VernonЧsomething I owed Gary Vernon an apology. And my life. Back | Next Contents Framed Back | Next Contents Chapter Two Of all the gutless wonders, greenhorn newbies, dopers, and fools who joined the Army and somehow got themselves assigned to Pershing, only a pitiful few were competent to handle the job of guarding nuclear missiles. Among those few were guys like "Wally" Wallenstein, and Charles "Chuck" Norris, and Crater, who, as far as I knew, had never been called anything else (although I'd heard it rumored that his real name was Haversham). They'd been among my closest friends. But head-and-shoulders above the whole crowdЧin everyone's opinionЧwas Gary Vernon. The best of the best. An all-around nice guy, who'd lend you beer money when you were short, and watch your back on patrol. Which was good, since he was |
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