"Michael Swanwick - The Raggle Taggle Gypsy - O" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swanwick Michael)

"Pay attention, babe," Crow said. "I'm gonna teach you a little guerrilla warfare."

He got out his rifle from its saddle sheath. It was a Savage 110 Tactical. Good
sniper rifle. He knew this gun. He'd packed the shells himself. It was a reliable piece
of machinery.

"This here's a trick I learned in a little jungle war you probably ain't never heard of.
Hold out your thumb at arm's length, OK? Now you wait until the helicopter's as big
as the thumb. That's when it's close enough you can shoot it down."

"Will that work?" she asked nervously.
"Hell, if the Cong could do it, so can I."

****

He took out three Basilisks before the others could sweep up and around and out of
range again. It was damned fine shooting if he did say so himself. But then the
survivors set down in the distant snow and disgorged at least thirty armed men.
Which changed the odds somewhat.

Annie counted soldiers, and quietly said, "Crow ..."

Crow held a finger to her lips.

"Don't you worry none about me. I'm a trickster, babe. I'm arche-typal. Ain't none
of them can touch the Man."

Annie kissed his finger and squeezed his hand. But by the look in her eyes, he could
tell she knew he was lying. "They can make you suffer, though," she said. "Eric has
an old enemy staked to a rock back at his estates. Vultures come and eat his
intestines."

"That's his brother, actually." It was an ugly story, and he was just as glad when she
didn't ask him to elaborate. "Hunker down, now. Here they come."

The troops came scattershot up the slope, running raggedly from cover to cover.
Very professional. Crow settled himself down on his elbows, and raised his rifle.
Not much wind. On a day like today, he ought to be able to hit a man at five hundred
yards ten times out of ten. "Kiss your asses good-bye," he muttered.

He figured he'd take out half of them before they got close enough to throw a stasis
grenade.

****

Lord Eric was a well-made man, tall and full of grace. He had the glint of power to
him, was bold and fair of face. A touch of lace was at his wrist. His shirt was finest
silk.