"Kristine Smith - Kilian 4 - Contact Imminent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Kristine)

"Rip-roaring? It'sтАФitтАФ" A long sigh rattled. "Ah, boy."
"Out with it, Pull." Niall's shoulders shook.
"Rip-roaring means ... exciting, ni Tsecha. Thrilling." Pullman's voice grew
softer with each passing syllable. "Electrifying."
"So you find standing in deep snow late at night an excitement? I learn more
of you each day, Lieutenant." Tsecha's air of mischief faded. "What of the
mine?"
Pullman's voice emerged more businesslike. "From what
4 Kristine Smith
I have been able to determine thus far, ni Tsecha, the mine is most likely a
remnant from an old field exercise. The Service used to operate training
facilities here before the land was leased to the idomeni."
"What sort of mineтАФhave you yet determined such?" "No. Ni Tsecha. That's still
under investigation." "It is a trainer, as you say? Or a dud? Such objects
emit signals particular to their type, do they not? One simply identifies the
signal, and thus the type of mine, and removes it accordingly."
"Yes. Ni Tsecha. We have not yet identified the signal." Jani glanced at Niall
to find him regarding her, his face set with concern. They had both sensed
Pullman's reluctance to discuss the situation. They've had two hours to ID
that mine, and they haven't yet. What's the problem ?
She reached for the console controls and tapped one of the pads. The flat
display shimmered, then the two-dimensional image pushed out from the screen,
lengthening and widening to form a three-dimensional layout of the mine site.
The casualty radius, centered by a black X and encircled by an orange ring two
hundred meters in diameter, stared out like a huge bull's-eye. The image
stuttered every few seconds as the relays miscued, but it remained steady
enough to discern the movement of personnel and equipment, both human and
idomeni. "There's the demolitions tech." Jani pointed out the lone figure
standing within the cordon, operating the remote-control 'bot that cleared
snow from around the mine. "He's still digging the thing out, but I can
already spot it at this scale. Why's he still working?"
"Where is Dathim?" Tsecha leaned over the console and searched the
miniaturized scene for the towering figure of his suborn. "I will contact him
and learn what he knows." He walked to the far side of the bunker as he dug
inside his coat for his handcom.
Niall leaned close to the speaker and dropped his voice. "OK, Tsecha stepped
away for a while," he said, the sharp
CONTACT IMMINENT 5
tones of Vynsharau Haarin serving as background. "What's going on?"
In the three-dimensional image, a figure at the edge of the cordon raised a
hand. Pullman, kitted out in grey and white winter camou topped with a layer
of body armor. "The disposal tech thinks that some water got into the brain of
the mine and is screwing up the thing's ability to respond to signals. I'd
never heard of that happening, but your guy confirmed. Faber, your comtech.
He's at the supply truck hunting for parts for your console."
Niall edged about in his seat as he studied the scene. "So if the tech doesn't
know what kind of mine we're dealing with, how the hell is he setting up?"
"According to Ordnance, it's one of two types. Either a Slager that's live but
sans detonator, or a Beekman trainer that's most likely a dummy but could be
live as well. The Slager's casualty radius is the greater of the two at one