"Nancy Kress - Stinger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kress Nancy)

noncommittal noise, тАЬEhhrrrmmm.тАЭ
тАЬI understand how you feel, Robert, even though
you think I donтАЩt.тАЭ
Still no clue. He tried a vaguely thoughtful frown.
тАЬOnce you get used to the new assignment, youтАЩll
probably be as happy there as you were in
Organized Crime,тАЭ Judy said, and Cavanaugh
relaxed.
He had been transferred from the BureauтАЩs
Organized Crime and Racketeering Section at
headquarters to its Resident Agent program only
four months ago. No, тАЬtransferredтАЭ wasnтАЩt the word;
it had been a goddamn heist.
The FBI regs were clear: тАЬUpon completion of
four years in his/her first office of assignment, and
until reaching ten years in the same office, a
Special Agent can be considered for a
nonvoluntary rotational transfer to a second field
office depending on the staffing needs of the FBI.тАЭ
Fair enough. Cavanaugh was able to concede the
staffing needs of the FBI. Cavanaugh had been in
Washington for over four yearsтАФbarelyтАФand less
than ten. Cavanaugh was willing to learn new roles,
new skills, new procedures.
But as a resident agent for southern Maryland?
тАЬYouтАЩre assistant special agent in charge,тАЭ Judy
said soothingly.
тАЬOut of two people! And Donald Seton is an idiot.
IтАЩm the only real, functioning FBI agent in a place
where the biggest federal crime is the condition of
the roads.тАЭ
 Judy laughed, knitting needles clicking away. The
sound irritated Cavanaugh. TheyтАЩd been living
together for over a year now, and only recently had
Judy taken up knitting. A freelance science writer,
she could work anywhere and had taken the move
from D.C. to Rivermount with equanimity.
NoтАФwith relish. The sight of her hanging curtains
and matching fabric swathes and buying scatter
rugs for the little house theyтАЩd rentedтАФsheтАЩd even
found the house, falling in love with the view of the
Patuxent RiverтАФall this made Cavanaugh
profoundly nervous. It looked soтАж domestic. And
now there was this knitting. He had avoided asking
what the purple thing was going to be.
Restless, he opened the sliding glass door to the
tiny redwood deck and stepped outside. Beyond the
air-conditioning, the early June night throbbed hot
and fragrant. It smelled of honeysuckleтАФit seemed
to him that all of Maryland smelled of