"Steven Gould - Jumper 02 - Reflex" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gould Stephen Jay)

Right, another ally. If she can look amused in that collar, perhaps I can relax under these
circumstances. She decided to settle for a moment, to let them present themselves again, to give her
someone to point at, when the NSA finally showed up. Fifteen minutes went by while the Marchesa
and she communed, during which the only people to enter the room were a woman shepherding seven
pre-teen girls.

Her phone rang and Millie jumped. The guard glared at her and she scrambled to silence the
ringer.

"Hello?" It was the first time the phone had rung and she seriously expected it to be from
someone who'd read the flyer.

"Millie, do you recognize my voice?"

It was Anders, the NSA agent.

"Yes. Thought you were still in the Sooner State?"

"We can gossip later, girlfriend. Right now we'd like you to leave the building on the Sixth Street
and Constitution Avenue side. By the north doorтАФthe one that faces away from the Mall? There'll be
a white cab waiting. The driver is wearing a red baseball cap. He's one of ours. Get in."

"What about my, uh, companions?"

"We'll be watching and recording. Trust us. This is what we do."

"All right." She stared at the impish face of the Marchesa. "Now?"

"Now."

"On my way." She hung up the phone and put it in her purse. The fastest route was through the
Main Gallery to the Rotunda, then down the stairs. She walked quickly, looking straight ahead,
fighting not to stare into every doorway she passed. She continued to hold her allies in her mind, the
images of women throughout the Gallery.
 Serenity. That's the ticket.

It was raining again, with a nasty wind that ripped at her clothes. Her raincoat was still in the
bag, but she didn't want to take the time to put it on, so she held the bag over her head and sprinted
for the street.

The cab was there, as promised, but she felt a stab of dismay as she saw someone sitting in the
back. Did someone grab it first? In this rain, cabs would be eagerly sought. But the person in the
seat handed the driver something, then opened the door and got out as she approached, leaving the
door open for her.

"Thanks," she said as she ducked into the cab, but the man was walking briskly away, toward
the museum. The car left the curb before she'd finished shutting the door and turned hard across two
lanes of traffic to make the Sixth Street turn. She twisted in the seat to watch the museum door, but
parked cars already blocked it, and then buildings as the driver whipped right onto Pennsylvania.