"Gordon, Steve - Insectoid 03 - Death to the Insectoids!" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gordon Steve)

When they had gotten several corridors away, Yaney asked, "What
was that all about?"
"A trap," said Croft bluntly. "I noticed that while there was all
sorts of garbage on the ground, that the intersection with the other
corridor was clear, as if something had passed through there recently."
"What did you see?" Tanil asked.
"A very ugly Insectoid head," said Croft. "We can't reach the
Silencer now. He's being watched and guarded too closely."
"We can't just leave him," said Red Sally, her hair starting to
sparkle.
"We don't have the numbers for a frontal assault, and there's no
other way to get easy access to him," said Croft. Suddenly, he made a
shushing gesture, and they crouched down. In the distance they could
see an Insectoid patrol passing by through a cross corridor. "Right now
all we can do is worry about ourselves," he hissed. "Let's get away
from here while we still can."
After the patrol had passed, they slowly started their cautious
trip back to the ship. As they passed by a dark side corridor, they
didn't notice a hooded figure standing in the shadows, watching them
go.

Chapter 2
Whatever happened to Mongo?

Turning back the clock:
Date: One Year, 11 Months after the Invasion

"Always ungrateful," Mongo hissed. "Always ungrateful, and
foolish, yes, very foolish."
He was more irritated than usual. Croft and his allies had
learned that Preston and Sashay were walking into a trap and had gone
to rescue them. Mongo had tried to warn them but no, they wouldn't
listen to Mongo. So as they headed in one direction, into a deadly
ambush, Mongo headed into another.
As he scampered away, possibilities of the future flashed through
his mind. But they were all jumbled, all coming too quickly. Mongo,
however, saw images of his being captured, or killed by the Insectoids.
The bugs were very active today. If he wanted to escape, he'd have to
move fast.
Mongo headed down, down, down to the lowest levels of the
underground. Insectoid patrols ran there too, but less frequently. He
peered about cautiously in the gloom. Only the dim illumination of
sparsely spaced emergency light panels flickered in the corridor. He
heard the sound of water dripping. Nothing else.
Mongo scampered away into the darkness.

Three days later found Mongo on the edge of exhaustion and
starvation. He hadn't eaten since he had left Croft's base, nor drank
except for some questionable water dripping from a pipe. But at least
he had moved away from the center of Insectoid activity; he had only