"Steve Perry - Matador 01 - The Man Who Never Missed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Steven)

The Lojt handed the flicksticks and money back to Khadaji. Khadaji
extended the pack toward the officer. "Like a smoke?"
 "No, sir. Not on duty."
"For later, maybe?"
The officer hesitated a moment, then shook his head. "Better not. Go ahead
in, sir."
Inside, there was at least a pretense of privacy; Creg sat behind his desk,
and the two men were alone in the room.
"Sit," Creg ordered.
Khadaji shook his head. "First we make sure I get back to the Jade Flower
alive," he said. "I want you to arrange for a quad to escort me back, now that
you've marked me by having me brought in under heavy guard."
"It'll be taken care of."
"No, sir. I want you to get on the com and tell that friendly Lojt outside the
door that when I come out, he's to take me back to the Flower without any
stopsтАФthat anybody who tries to approach is probably Scum, no matter
what they claim to be or look like and they are to be spiked." The
commanding officer of the forces on Greaves looked irritated. "Mister
Khadaji, you have vital information for me and we are under Military
Interdiction. I can pry what I want from you in five minutes."
"I know that," Khadaji said. Careful. "But I'm here voluntarily. I want to tell
you what I know, and you can verify it easily. I just want to make sure I
survive. Is it so unreasonable a request?"
Befalhavare Creg weighed his options. Khadaji could see him decide. "All
right, Mister Khadaji." He reached for the com unit on his desk, touched a
pressure-sensitive pad, and spoke quietly. 'Temms, when this man leaves
here, you are to escort him back to where he came from. No one is to
approach without being considered an assassinтАФnot anyone, including your
mother, you copy?"
"Sir."
The Old Man looked up. He was only about fifty, Khadaji estimated,
hardly old, with ajnilitary shag cut and hard features. Probably a by-the-tape
commander.
"You have somebody monitoring this conversation, commander?"
"I gave you my word otherwise, didn't I?"
"Recording?"
"That I do, mister. Now, you had something to tell me?"
Khadaji nodded. He took the pack of flicksticks from his pocket. "Do you
mind if I smoke?"
 Creg shook his head. "Not if you get to the point."
Khadaji smiled and scratched the tip of the flickstick along the leg of his
pants. The tip flared and he put the doped cigarette to his lips, but didn't
draw on it.
"Me," Khadaji said.
"Excuse me?"
"Me. I'm the leader of the Shamba Freedom Forces. In fact, I'm the whole
army."
Creg's eyes widened, then narrowed. "I don't much care for jokes, misterтАФ
!"
Khadaji took a deep breath, centered the flickstick in his mouth, and blew,