"13 Sentinels 01 - The Devils Hand" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

"You do that," Jack told her, breathing hard.

The SDF-3 was still at its orbital holding point above Tirol. The general staff was kept informed of the situation below by continuous updates from the GMU. One such report was coming into the fortress now, and T. R. Edwards left the TIC's balcony rail to listen more closely. A tech loyal to the cause was making adjustments for reception, and punching decoding commands into the console.
"It's from Grant, sir," the tech reported, seeing Edwards peering over his shoulder. "The situation has deteriorated and is growing untenable."
Edwards glanced around the balcony area. Hunter and Reinhardt had gone off to meet with Lang and some of the council members. "Speak plainly, Lieutenant," he said, narrowing his eye.
"They're getting their butts kicked, sir. Grant is requesting air support from the ship."
Edwards straightened up and felt the stubble on his chin. "How do we know this isn't some enemy trick, Lieutenant? Did the GMU use the proper authentication codes?"
"Affirmative, sir."
Edwards was silent while the planetside transmission repeated itself. "But then they broke our code once already."
The tech risked a grin. "I think I understand, sir."
"You'll go far," Edwards told him, leaning in to dial the gain knob down to zero.
At the same time Edwards was gloating over having eliminated Vince Grant from his life, Minmei was fantasizing about how to get Jonathan Wolff into hers. It was the flower arrangement the colonel had had delivered to her cabinspace that kicked off the fantasy; obviously he had called in the order before he left, perhaps right after they said good-bye in the dropship hangar. She was toying with the flowers now, lost in a daydream, while Janice studied her from across the room.
"Keep fooling with those things and they're going to wilt before they have a chance to bloom," Janice said from the couch.
Minmei showed Janice a startled look, then gave the arrangement one last turn before she stepped back to regard it.
"You're thinking about catching that bridal bouquet, aren't you?"
Minmei smiled. "How could you tell?"
"Because sometimes I can read you like a screen," Janice sighed. She patted the cushion next to her. "Come over here, you."
Minmei fixed two drinks and sat down, kicking off her shoes and curling her legs beneath her. Janice sipped at her glass and said, "Now tell your partner all about it."
"Do you believe in omens?"
"Omens?" Janice shook her head. "First I'd have to believe that the future has already been written, and that's simply not the case. Reality is shaped and reshaped by our words and deeds."
"I'm not asking you philosophically, Janice."
Janice took another sip and glanced at the flowers. "You think destiny has thrown you and Jonathan Wolff together."
Minmei nodded. "Don't you?"
"No. Not any more than I think destiny brought you and me together. We have a tendency to highlight moments we wish to think preordained."
"I promised myself I'd never get involved with a military man," Minmei continued, as though she hadn't heard Janice. "Not after Rick. And now here I am worrying about Jonathan, just the way I used to worry about Rick." She met Janice's eye. "I don't want to lose him, Janice."
"Worrying doesn't change anything, Lynn."
"Then what does it matter if I worry? Maybe I just didn't worry enough about Rick."
"`They also serve...'" Janice mused.
"Huh?"
"Just something I heard once." She took Minmei's hand. "Go ahead and worry. We all have our appointed tasks."

"I'm sick of having to listen to everyone," Rick complained bitterly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He and Lisa had taken advantage of a short break to rendezvous in their quarters. "The council has decided we should recall the GMU and leave Tirolspace. Suddenly they're all convinced this bloodshed has been a misunderstanding. They want to remove our `threatening presence'-those are their words-and try to open lines of communication. Station a small unarmed party out here or something..." Rick exhaled forcibly. "War of the worlds...Even Lang has reversed himself. Ever since his teams started picking apart those Invid mecha we salvaged. All at once he's fascinated with these butchers."
Lisa rested her hand on his shoulder. "Don't do this to yourself, Rick."
He looked up at her, eyes flashing. "Yeah, well, I'm tired of being the one who has to walk around with his guts tied up."
"Rick, nobody's asking you-"
"My place is with the VTs. I just wasn't cut out for command."
Lisa kneeled down to show him the anger in her own eyes. "Maybe you weren't, if you're going to talk like that. But first tell me who we should have in command. And tell me what good you think you can do in combat?"
"Are you saying I'm rusty?"
Lisa's eyes went wide. "Stand down, mister, I'm not saying that at all. I'm asking you what good it's going to do to add another combatant to the field, when what we need is some enlightened decision making." She relaxed her gaze. "You're not thinking clearly, Rick. You need some rest, we're all frazzled."
"Maybe you're right," he allowed.
The door tone sounded just then, and Max entered.
"Rick, Lisa. Sorry to barge in."
"It's all right, Max," Rick said, getting to his feet. "What's up?"
Max hesitated for a moment. "Rick, why are we ignoring the GMU's requests for backup?"
Rick stared at Max blankly. "What are you talking about?"
"They've been sustaining heavy losses down there."
"Why wasn't I informed of this? Who's in the Situation Room now?"
"Edwards."
Rick cursed under his breath. He gave Lisa a brief kiss and grabbed hold of Max's arm, tugging him from the rim.
The two men burst into the Tactical Information Center a few minutes later. Rick glanced once at Edwards and demanded an update from a tech.