"Newman, Kim - The McCarthy Witch Hunt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Newman Kim)

The warlock, whom the other twelve called 'den mother', said it whenever
there were reporters within earshot, making sure it was taken down. Finlay
must have heard the quote four or five times. It would be in all the
papers, all the history books.
The battle was over before the regular army got within ten miles of
Berlin. The process of occupying the city was more a matter of putting out
fires and rescuing trapped civilians than conquering the enemy.
At the end, though, the krauts put up a tougher fight than the Japs two
months ago. Hitler's mages had held out to the last, circles of protection
shrinking as the allies moved in. Then the Thirteen convened and made the
Great Invocation.
'He's become Shiva,' Lilith said, 'and we've become extras, trailing
behind with our spears.'
Lilith Ritter was the first witch Finlay had seen at close range. She had
her hair up like a society matron, but wore combat fatigues a size too
large for her. Around her waist was a belt like a mechanic's, tools
familiar and unfamiliar dangling like the grasses of a hula skirt. He had
no idea how old she was; her body was trim, but there was a deal of silver
in her ash-blonde hair and deep lines bracketed her mouth and eyes. After
the battle, she was clearly exhausted and wanted to sleep but the den
mother wanted the Thirteen to convene physically on the site where they
had triumphed spiritually.
Patton called the Great Invocation 'fighting fire with fire'. Just now,
everyone was high on it. Only Finlay was close enough to be scared.
They advanced slowly through a residential area. They should all be in
position by dawn. Then the coven would give thanks to whatever it was they
worshipped and banish it back to wherever it had come from. Finlay wasn't
sure how easy that would be. He didn't know Shiva but he'd certainly heard
of Pandora's Box.
They had given Finlay a rifle but no one expected him to use it. That
meant he got stuck with looking after Lilith. After all, they had a lot in
common.
Sergeant Stoner was checking out their way. He signalled an advance, and
the whole platoon started walking, as casually as if looking for a bar or
a picture show. They all held their rifles loosely, hoping the shooting
was over.
There was a fat dead woman in the road, rope-like blonde braids spread
away from her head, face a bloody skull. She wore the black uniform of the
SS Lorelei Division. The air was thick with the tang of ozone, remnants of
the lightning bolts that had fallen in sheets when Asmodeus fought Tir.
This had been the Twilight of the Nazi Gods. There were dead Norns and
kobolds and trolls and aesir turning to mist throughout the city.
A shot spanged against the sidewalk and soldiers scattered for cover.
Finlay dragged Lilith behind the burned-out hulk of an army truck. The
metal was still hot.
'Sniper,' he said.
The city would be full of diehards, mostly driven mad by the battle. It
might take weeks to flush them all out. The Great Invocation had ended the
War but it would be down to GI Joe and his aching feet to clear up the
mess.