"Wilson, F Paul - Implant (aka Colin Andrews)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson F. Paul)

implant
by
F. Paul Willson

Welcome to Federal World.

She cut diagonally across to her left, weaving between suited federal
employees and T-shirted tourists, and came out on First Street. She
comulted her hand-drawn map■she'd been to the Capitol area many times
as a child, but never to a Senate office building. Up ahead the white
blocks of the Russell Building sat to the right, the Dirksen Building
to the left. She hurried past the Dirksen's shrub and flower-lined
parking lot labeled "Federal Employees Only"■hopefully she'd have a
spot there soon■and up to Constitution, then left past the Dirksen and
a scruffy clutch of helmeted bike messengers lounging on the sidewalk,
waiting for a call on the walkie-talkies protruding from their vests.

Her destination was the adjoining block of white marble, the Hart
Building.

In the white marble lobby she gave her name to the uniformed security
guard and signed in. She was directed to place her bag on a conveyor
belt. As it was swallowed by the X-ray box, Gin stepped through the
metal detector. Just like an airport.

More white marble beyond the guards■the whole building seemed to be
made of it. A short walk down a corridor lined with potted trees and
she came to the Hart's huge central atrium.

She stopped, struck by the sheer mass of the enormous black steel
sculpture that dominated the space. A series of jagged black peaks,
stark against the white of their surroundings, thrust upward, reaching
for the sunlight streaming through the ceiling beyond. Between the
skylight and the peaks floated a gargantuan mobile of equally black
disks.

Black mountains and black clouds in a white room. Arresting. But the
tension coiled inside prevented her from fully appreciating it. Had to
move, keep going, get upstairs to Senator Marsden's office.

As she passed through the atrium she noticed a man staring at her. In
his gray suit he could have been any one of the thousands of Senate
aides who worked on the Hill. He was good-looking, though, thirtyish,
fair, tall, close-cropped blond hair, blue eyes, square jaw. But why
was he staring at her like that? She wasn't dressed in any way to make
her stand out from any of the other women passing through the atrium.

Nothing special about her sedate, navy pinstripe suit■just a
knee-length skirt and a short fitted jacket. So why was he ogling her
like she was wearing a micromini and a halter top?