"Shadow Game" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feehan Christine)

For the first time that he could remember, Ryland was embarrassed by a woman. He
was making an ass out of himself. Even her damn high heels were classy. Sexy,
but classy.
A small smile curved her mouth. "You're making a total ass out of yourself," she
pointed out, "but fortunately for you, I'm in a forgiving mood. We elitists
learn that at an early age when they put that silver spoon in our mouths."
Ryland was ashamed. He might have grown up on the wrong side of the tracks in
the proverbial trailer trash park, but his mother would have boxed his ears for
being so rude. "I'm sorry, there's no excuse."
"No, there isn't. There's never an excuse for rudeness." Lily paced across the
distance of his cage, an unhurried examination of the length of his prison. "Who
designed your quarters?"
"They constructed several cages quickly when they decided we were too powerful
and posed too much danger as a group." His men had been separated and scattered
throughout the facility. He knew the isolation was telling on them. Continual
poking and prodding was wearing and he worried that he could not keep them
together. He had lost men already; he was not about to lose any of the others.
The cell had been specially designed out of fear of reprisal. He knew his time
was limitedЧthe fear had been growing for weeks now. They had erected the thick
bulletproof barrier of glass around his cell believing that it would keep him
from communicating with his men.
He had volunteered for the assignment and he had talked the other men into it.
Now they were imprisoned, studied and probed and used for everything but the
original premise. Several of the men were dead and had been dissected like
insects to "study and understand." Ryland had to get the others out before
anything else happened to them. He knew Higgens had termination in mind for the
stronger ones. Ryland was certain it would come in the form of "accidents," but
it would definitely come eventually if he didn't find a way to free his men.
Higgens had his own agenda, wanting to use the men for personal gain that had
nothing whatsoever to do with the military and the country he was supposed to
serve. But Higgens was afraid of what he couldn't control. Ryland wasn't about
to lose his men to a traitor. His men were his responsibility.
He was more careful, speaking matter-of-factly this time, trying to keep the
accusations, the blame he put squarely on her father's shoulders from spilling
over into his thoughts, in case she was reading him. Her eyelashes were
ridiculously long, a heavy fringe he found fascinating. He caught himself
staring, unable to be anything but a crass idiot. In the midst of being caught
like a rat in a trap, with his men in danger, he was making a fool of himself
over a woman. A woman who very well might be his enemy.
"Your men are all in similar cages? I wasn't given that information." Her voice
was strictly neutral, but she didn't like it. He could feel the outrage she was
striving to suppress.
"I haven't seen them in weeks. They don't allow us to communicate." He indicated
the computer screen. "That's a constant source of irritation to Higgens. I bet
his people have tried to break your father's code, even used the computer, but
they must not have been able to do it. Can you really read it?"
She hesitated briefly. It was almost unnoticeable, but he sensed the sudden
stillness in her and his hawklike gaze didn't leave her face. "My father has
always written in codes. I see in mathematical patterns and it was a kind of
game when I was a little girl. He changed the code often to give me something to