"Christopher Pike - The Last Vampire 03 - Red Dice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pike Christopher)

afford one, the court will bleed a little for you. Yeah, I think sarcastically as they shove me into the back
of the armored vehicle where they threw Joel, I will be given all my rights as an American citizen. Behind
me I see them trying to put out the fire. Too bad they brought the firepower but forgot the fire engines.
The house is a funeral pyre. Eddie Fender will leave no legacy to haunt mankind.

But what about me? Joel?

Our legs are chained to the floor of the vehicle. Three men with automatic weapons and ghostly faces lit
from a single overhead light sit on a metal bench across from us, weapons trained on us. No one speaks.
Another two armed men sit up front, beside the driver. One carries a shotgun, the other a machine gun.
They are separated from us by what I know is bulletproof glass. It also acts as soundproofing. I can
break it with my little finger.

But what about the miniature army around us? They won't break so easily. As the door is closed and we
roll forward, I hear a dozen cars move into position around us. The chopper follows overhead, a
spotlight aimed down on our car. Their precautions border on the fanatical. They know I am capable of
extraordinary feats of strength. This realization sinks deep into my consciousness. For five thousand
years, except for a few isolated incidents, I have moved unknown through human history. Now I am
exposed. Now I am the enemy. No matter what happens, whether we escape or die trying, my life will
never be the same.

I'll have to tear up my credit cards.

"Where are you taking us?" I ask.

"You are to remain silent," the middle one says. He has the face of a drill sergeant, leathery skin, deeply
etched lines cut in from years of barking commands. Like his partners, he wears a flak jacket. I think I
would look nice in one. I catch his eye and smile faintly.

"What's the matter?" I ask. "Are you afraid of a young woman?"

"Silence," he snaps, shaking his weapon, shifting uncomfortably. My stare is strong medicine. It can burn
holes in brain neurons. My voice is hypnotic, when I wish it to be. I could sing a grizzly to sleep. I let my
smile widen.

"May I have a cigarette?" I ask.

"No," he says flatly.

I lean forward as far as I can. These men, for all their plans, have not come as well prepared as Slim's
people did. Yaksha had them bring cuffs made of a special alloy that 1 could not break. I can snap these
like paper. Yet they are seated close together, these SWAT experts, and they have three separate
weapons leveled directly at me. They could conceivably kill me before I could take out all of them. For
that reason I have to take a subtle approach.

Relatively speaking.
 "I don't know what you've been told about me" I continue. "But I think it's way out of line. I have done
nothing wrong. Also, my friend here is an FBI agent. He shouldn't be treated this way. You should let him
go." I stare deep into the man's eyes, and I know all he sees is my widening black pupils, growing as
large as the dark sides of twin moons. I speak softly, "You should let him gonow."