"Jeff Grubb - StarCraft Libertys - Crusade" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grubb Jeff)

hand ensnared his own.



CHAPTER 2
THE CUSH POSTING

Service in the military, for those of you unfortunate enoughnever to have experienced it
firsthand, consists of long periodsof boredom broken by mind-shredding threats to oneтАЩs lifeand
sanity. From what I can gather from the old tapes, itтАЩsalways been like that. The best soldiers are
those who canwake suddenly, react instantly, and aim precisely.

Unfortunately, none of those traits are shared by the military intelligence that controls those
soldiers.

тАФTHELIBERTYMANIFESTO


тАЬMR. LIBERTY?тАЭ SAID THE PERKY MURDERESS AT THE hatchway. тАЬThe captain would like a
word with you.тАЭ

Michael Liberty, UNN reporter assigned to the elite Alpha Squadron of the Confederate Marines,
propped open one eye and found her, all smiles, standing next to his bunk. An all-night card game had
just adjourned, and he was sure the young marine lieutenant had waited until he had lain down before
barging into his quarters.

The reporter let out a deep sigh and said, тАЬDoes Colonel Duke expect me immediately?тАЭ
тАЬNo, sir,тАЭ said the murderess, shaking her head for effect. тАЬHe said you should come at your leisure.тАЭ

тАЬRight,тАЭ said Mike, swinging his legs over the edge of his bunk and shaking the temptation of sleep from
his brain. For Colonel Duke, тАЬat your leisureтАЭ usually meant тАЬwithin the next ten minutes, dammit.тАЭ Mike
reached for his cigarettes, and only when his hand had dipped into the empty shirt pocket did he
remember he had given them up.

тАЬFilthy habit anyway,тАЭ he muttered to himself. To the marine lieutenant he said тАЬNeed a shower. Coffee
would be good, too.тАЭ

Lieutenant Emily Jameson Swallow, LibertyтАЩs personal assistant, liaison, minder, and spy for her military
superiors, waited only long enough to determine that Mike was serious about getting up, then beetled off
to the galley. Mike yawned, figured he must have had all of five minutesтАЩ sleep, stripped, and padded off
to the sonic cleanser.

The sonic cleanser was a military model, of course. This meant it was similar in construction to those
high-pressure jets that lasted the meat off the bones at slaughterhouses. In the past three months Mike
had gotten used to it.

In the past three months Michael Liberty had gotten used to a lot of things.

Handy Anderson had been true to his word. The posting was posh, or at least as posh as a military
assignment could be. TheNorad II was a capital ship, one of theBehemoth -class, all neosteel and laser