"Jack McKinney - Robotech 05 - Force of Arms" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

One of them drew back his heavy work boot to kick Karita again; Karita
closed his eyes, waiting for the blow. But the sudden sound of shoe leather
sliding on pavement and the thud of a falling body made him reopen them.
He looked up to see one of the assailants down and the other two turning
to face an interloper.
Max Sterling didn't look like the conventional image of a Veritech ace.
The brilliant Robotech Defense Force flier was slender, wore blue-tinted
aviator glasses-with corrective lenses-and dyed his hair blue in keeping with
the current fad for wild colors.
This young RDF legend looked mild, even vulnerable. In a time of crisis,
Max Sterling had risen from obscurity to dazzle humanity and the Zentraedi
with his matchless combat flying. But that hadn't changed his basic humility
and self-effacing good-naturedness.
"No more," Max told the assailants quietly. The bully on the ground
shook his head angrily. Max stepped between the other two, went to Karita's
side, and knelt, offering his hand.
Minmei's Aunt Lena had watched the ominous trio follow Karita when he
left the White Dragon; it took her a few minutes to find Sterling, so Max
said, "Sorry I'm a little late."
This bookish-looking young man who held the highest kill score of any
combat pilot in the ship offered the Zentraedi his hand. "D' you think you can
stand?"
The attacker Max had floored was back on his feet, eyeing Max's RDF
uniform. "You have two seconds to butt out of this, kid."
Max rose and turned, leaving Karita sitting against the wall. He took
off his glasses and dropped them into Karita's limp hand.
"I guess there's gonna be a fight here, so let's get one thing straight:
In case you missed the news, this man isn't our enemy. Now, are you going to
let us by or what?"
Of course not. They had looked at Karita and automatically thought, We
can take him! And that had decided the matter. Now here was the pale,
unimposing Max, and their assessment was the same: We can take him, too. No
sweat.
So the one Max had knocked down came at him first, while the others
fanned out on either side.
Max didn't wait. He ducked under a powerful, slow haymaker and struck
with the heel of his hand, breaking the first one's nose. A second attacker, a
thick-bodied man in coveralls, hooked his fist around with all his might, but
Max simply wasn't there. Dodging like a ghost, he landed a solid jab to the
man's nose, bloodying it, and stepped out of the way as he staggered.
There wasn't much fighting room, and Max's usual style involved plenty
of movement. But it didn't matter very much this time; he didn't want to leave
Karita unprotected.
The third vigilante, younger, leaner, and faster than the other two,
swung doubled fists at him from behind. Max avoided the blow, adding momentum
with a quick, hard tug so that the man went toppling to his knees. Then Max
spun precisely so that he had his back nearly up against the first attacker
and rammed his elbow back.
The man's breath rushed out of him as he clutched his midsection. Max
snapped a fist back into his face, then turned to plant a sidelong kick to the