"Lawrence Watt-Evans - In for Pound" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

But she could get around that . . .



She stood, thinking hard, for a moment, then turned and went inside.



A few hours later, somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00 in the morning, she cruised down the deserted
streets and parked the car in an empty lot two blocks from the pound; she didn't want anyone getting her
license number. Then she got out and opened the trunk. She was trembling; it took three tries before she
could get the key in the lock.



It opened at last, though, and she reached in and pulled out Dave's bulletproof vest.



She'd never worn it before, and it was too big for her, but she got it on and tied it in place, the kevlar
panels pressing uncomfortably on her breastsтАФit was meant for a man, not a woman, and she was
bigchested.



Then she pulled on the old black raincoat, to further hide her figureтАФshe was already wearing black
jeans and a black T-shirt, to make it as difficult as possible to see any distinctive details about her. Her
feet were in old deck shoes with black stockings pulled up over them, to blur any markings or footprints.



Then came the motorcycle helmet with the dark visor, hiding her face and hair completelyтАФand making it
hard to see; it was like wearing sunglasses at night.



It was wearing sunglasses at night, reallyтАФthe tinted visor was meant to serve the same purpose, as well
as keeping bugs out of a motorcyclist's teeth.



And then came the scary part, as she lifted Dave's pump-action twelve-gauge out of the trunk.



She had fired the gun exactly three times. The first time she had started at the bang when it went off, but
the other two she had been ready for it. She had still completely missed the target Dave had set up for
her, and the next day her shoulder had been sore from the recoil, but she had fired it.