"Jack McKinney - Robotech Sentientals 4 - World Killers" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

breath rasp. "I thought Edwards would be distracted getting the pursuit of the
Zentraedi under way," he admitted. "Thought we'd have a little more lead
time."
She gave a scornful laugh, shaking her head wearily. "You think T. R.
Edwards is going to go after Breetai personally! And take a chance that things
here will get away from him? You've got a lot to learn, Lieutenant."
The kind of thing I've learned the hard way, she thought. "So, what
now?"
He wasn't sure; the decision to help her escape Edwards's sadism had
come rather on the spur of the moment. "We'll get you to REF Base Tirol, to
Lang's bailiwick, for a start."
"Why? So The Great General has an excuse to kill Lang? Why don't you
save everybody the trouble and just drop me off right here?"
He felt at a loss, but brought the fighter onto course for Base Tirol
anyway, for want of anything better to do. One plan had been to try to link up
with Breetai, but the Valivarre, the hijacked Zentraedi mining op ship loaded
with the all-important monopole ore, was already beyond the VT's range.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," he said in an odd monotone. "It never
does anybody any good. Now, tell me what you want."
"I-I want Jonathan." She was trying to hold back more tears, because she
knew he was right about feeling sorry. "Jonathan Wolff! Just to be with him!"
"So." The word had a hollow, final sound, the way he said it. "Getting
to Lang and the council is still a first step. Hang on." He increased power
again.
"Y-you still haven't told me why you're doing this," she strained to get
out, as the mecha thundered under her.
She didn't have a flight helmet, so she could still only hear him over
his own helmet's tinny external speaker. "I don't like seeing people pushed
around, Minmei."
 Just when he should have been enjoying his triumph, Edwards had to
suffer the galling news of Minmei's escape.
At first he had thought it was just another of her temper tantrums, set
off by news that he had permission to send a contingent after the fleeing
Zentraedi and their stolen ore. He realized now, though, that she still
thought she loved that idiot Jonathan Wolff.
The half of T. R. Edwards's face that wasn't hidden under his gleaming
metal cowl burned red. She was his property, and he had no intention of losing
her-not to Wolff and not to anyone else.
Of course, it was out of the question to admit publicly that she had
left him. The word was put out, to a limited number of key people, that she
had been kidnapped. Minutes later, news reached him of the chase after the
armored Alpha.
Apparently the pilot, whoever he was, was neither a Ghost Rider nor some
rogue Skull, but rather one of the detached-duty fliers serving the R&D people
and council-liaison offices. That hadn't kept him from knocking out several
crewmembers and stealing a VT. Edwards looked forward to exacting a fearsome
revenge.
But he had no time to waste monitoring the pursuit of the Alpha. There
was his flotilla to put into motion, and every second counted, since Breetai
was already under way. The ore the Zentraedi had taken with them was the key