"Linnea Sinclair - Gambit" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sinclair Linnea)

But not this time. The second and third round she tried a generic series that could
get you into the better liquor stock in just about any government run spaceport pub
system. No luck. She leaned back into the seat and chewed her lip thoughtfully. This
was going to take some work. She figured she had about an hour before the Abaris
powered up for jump. One hour to get out of her pleasant prison, find the
Dreamweaver and get the hell out of here.
It wasn't a lot of time.
Accessing the computer might allow her to pinpoint alarms and fail-safes in the
corridors. And if there were a hangar lock override in the bay where Jhen-Aris held
her ship. If she couldn't get the bay doors open, her only alternative would be to use
the ion cannons rather creatively. It was a dangerous option--she could incinerate
herself as well--and one she hoped she wouldn't have to use.
She wasted another fifteen minutes before giving up. She had to remember that
Jhen-Aris designed the whole system. Like the man, this wasn't going to be easy.
There were several potential exits in her cabin. The most obvious and unlikely was
the door. She lay her hand against the wall and tried to remember all she'd been
taught, tried to forget the failures that haunted her because she was a half-breed. She
let her mind drift.
It took her almost ten minutes, but she had her answer... one she didn't like. She
тАШfelt' two guards on the other side of her door. Overpowering them mentally was out
of the question. She was still shaking from a simple scan.
She sought other options. There was a fairly wide air-duct in the main room and one
in the тАШfresher. She stacked the chair on the desktop, then balancing precariously,
carefully slid back the hinged cover. If, by any chance, she could hoist herself up far
enough to get inside, she'd be trapped eventually by the narrowing of the ducts
themselves.
It didn't look good.
She had less than forty minutes.
She looked over the room again. A narrow wall of adjustable shelves formed a
partial privacy screen in front of the sleeping area. She grabbed some utensils from
the cabin's small kitchenette and pried loose one of the thick plasteel support bars.
She swung it in a small arc. It would have to do.
She pulled the cushions from the sofa and threw them to the floor so they
overlapped. Beneath them, she tucked the bar so it was undetectable. Then she took
two deep breaths and let loose the most bloodcurdling scream she could muster.
She fell to the cushions as the door irised open. The guards rushed in.
Ty kept herself still and loose as they barked urgent commands in Jhenian. She felt
the give of a cushion as the guards knelt beside her. One lightly grasped her wrist.
Then, the light trill of a wrist-com being activated. Now. It has to be now. In one
smooth motion, she grasped the bar beneath her and rolled over. Before the guard
could call for help, she slammed the heavy bar against his head with a sickening
thud, then pushed herself to her knees.
The second guard sprang up, stunner in hand. He fired as she lunged for him, the
bar whizzing past his head. The shot missed her, but was close enough that her skin
itched. She caught the guard in the stomach with a backstroke.
He grabbed her as he fell and they tumbled to the floor. He tried to roll on top of
her, but she squirmed sideways, bringing the bar upward. She slammed it into his
throat. He collapsed beside her with a grunt.
Quickly, she pocketed the two stunners and slid under the bed. Footsteps pounded
down the corridor.