"Mel Odom - Shadowrun 33 - Run Hard, Die Fast" - читать интересную книгу автора (Odom Mel)

you. I think it would have been a blast.
And to the fans of Shadowrun who've written and told me what the shadows mean to them: SeTthSon, Matthew
Banning, Buddy Lacey, Robert Doyle, Ron Peterson, Dave, Brandon A. Reed, and STR8EDGBOB! Run fast and true,
churnmers, or the shadows will get you!

Prologue
From transcript of conversation with confidential informant, Bonez. Submitted by
Sgt. N. Cooper, Department of Special Investigation
04:11:23/10-6-60 CC:LTG 2418 (32-0113)
[Note per Cooper: Cap, I know everybody thinks Bonez is a burnout simsense junkie, but the guy is knowledgeable in what
goes on in the shadows, a regular fanboy with a serious jones for shadowrunners. Nobody else had a finger on Argent, but
Bonez had this.]

"Argent? Sure I've heard of Argent. Frag, anybody who's into the serious end of runners knows about this
guy. And yeah, he's one guy. Some of the street guff says he's a clone or something; maybe got five or six
of him running around at the same time. Not true.
"Argent is a scary guy. Not 'cause he's one of those sadistic fragging posers that hang out in so many of
the flops the shadowfolk have. But when Argent gets down to biz, the hincky guttermeat that goes up
against him generally flatlines in messy pyrotechnics if the ops goes bad. Otherwise, Argent's in and out and
somebody's slagged before they even know they've been cheated out of their next cardiac bumpety-boom,
bumpety-boom.
"Military training? I've heard he had some tours with Fuchi during their Desert Wars. Then he hung it up
and went private in the shadows. Had a group they called the
Wrecking Crew. They were a specialty team that handled any kind of project if the credstick was big
enough. Very select about what they took on. Argent's got standards. That joker had his flesh and blood
arms chopped so he could cyber up. I mean, you know what kind of thinking and self-control that takes?
You can have an arm augmented with less trauma. 'Course, then you've only got an augmented arm, not a
weapon the way Argent went.
"A few years back, according to a wisp of street buzz I haven't been able to nail down, a run went to
squat and two of the Crew got greased in the confusion. Since then, Argent's operated on a smaller scale,
only taking on one-man contracts, or two-man if he can fill the bill himself.
"The gen is that Argent lost some of himself when the Wrecking Crew flamed out. Others say that
Argent won't just partner with anybody, so that's why he's working lonesome these days. Nobody much is
saying either way anyhow 'cause nobody knows.
"I go with the first thought. Every runner I know would give their right nut to work with Argent, and half
the cred involved. Argent's a credstick in the slot every time. He's staying small 'cause he wants to.
"Oh, one other word of advice, Cooper: you somehow manage to wind up in Argent's way, get the frag
to a new twenty. There's no back-up in the guy, and when he takes something on, his word's his bond. The
frag-up that cost the lives of two Crew members? Word I get is that Argent completed the contract
anyway. Signed, sealed, and delivered. That's just the kind of joker he is. Real stand-up, you know."


1
"Skyhook, I have your target located."
"Affirmative, Groundwire, bring us onto the target." Argent shifted in the passenger seat of the Hughes
WK-2 Stallion helicopter and stared down at the grid of lighted streets through the cool blue polycarbonate
glazing of the craft' s cockpit bubble.
He was a big man with a squared-off face that looked like it had been cast in bronze. His fair hair was
cut in a military flat top that he'd worn for years. He went clean-shaven, and the weak moonlight dusting in
from outside the cockpit faded against the camou makeup he wore to blunt his features. Dressed in a dark