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edge. If it comes to that.
"I'll visit Daud and leave the two of you alone," Mslope says with a smile,
and as he turns toward Daud's room he reaches for the candy in his shirt
pocket.
Sarah sits down on one of the plush lounge chairs and gives Andre a grin.
Behind her a couple of elderly patients complain in Spanglish about their
doctors. "How's Cunningham?" she asks. "Or Calvert, or whatever he's calling
himself these days?" A jab, she figures, maybe set the boy off balance.
Andre's eyes barely flicker. "He's fine, Sarah. He has nothing to worry about.
He's on the side that's going to win."
"Be sure to give him my regards. I haven't seen him since before you people
started shooting rockets at me."
He gazes at her for a moment. It's Cunningham's style, she recognizes, that
quiet, arrogant assumption of superiority. But Andre's not Cunningham; he
can't bring off that tempered razor menace, not quite.
"You were a danger then," he says. "Any knowledge you have of our operations
is now obsolete. Policy's changed."
"How do I know it won't change again?"
"I am authorized to offer guarantees."
Sarah laughs, throwing her contempt at him. She can tell he's irritated; he's
not used to having dirtgirls find him amusing. "Guarantees backed by what?
Your word of honor as a killer in the employ of a bunch of mass murderers?"
Andre's mouth tightens, as if he's just bit into a lemon. "We are not here to
discuss politics."
"We're here to discuss your company's habit of killing people who are no
longer of use to them."
Andre fidgets with the case in his lap. "What sort of security would you
require?"
"Tickets out of the well for myself and my brother. To a bloc of my choice.
You can take it as given that the bloc will not be your own."
"That's expensive."
"Not to you people. Issue me some stock. I'll trade it for what I want."
Andre leans forward. She can see his cold chrome pupils dilate as he looks at
her like a sniper through his scope. "We want the Hetman," he says.
"You'll get him. If I get my guarantees."
"Understand," Andre says. "You're not that valuable to us. The Hetman is
losing anyway;
he's only got a few months at most. We only want to end things quickly, just
for the sake of convenience."
"If I'm not that valuable, why are you talking to me?" She leans toward him,
giving an intimacy to her mocking tone. "Or haven't your owners given you the
authority to make a deal?"
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Andre reaches into a pocket for a cigarette. During the time it takes to light
it a hovercraft shrieks past, doing 200 on the limited expressway behind the
hospital. "I'm not sure if
Michael the Hetman is worth what you're asking."
"Better talk with your masters before you draw that particular conclusion."
She leans back, giving him an insolent grin. "Understand," she adds, "I'll
feed you the Hetman, but I'm not going to make it easy for you by letting
myself get caught in the crossfire when it starts-I'm going to be far across
town with my own guards. I'll let you know where the Hetman is staying, or
when he's moving from place to place. After that, you can fire your own
rockets.
Andre stares at her dully. "I can't guarantee any of this now," he says.
"Let me know when you can. You know where I can be reached."
Sarah stands up and walks toward the hallway that leads to Daud's room. She
struts slowly, making her exit last as long as possible. She can feel Andre's
gunsight eyes on her all the way.
"I CAN BREAK A BRICK WITH MY IMPLANT CRYSTAL!" SEZ VIDEO BANGER KNUT CARLSON,
PLEASED WITH HIS NEW
HARDWIRED KARATE REFLEXES
Just in case, she uses her inhaler in the car before she steps out to visit
Daud. Her nerves crackling with hardfire, Sarah walks into the building and
sees Andre sitting in the lounge. She knows she has him hooked. She peels her
lips from her teeth in a carnivore smile.
"Was it the shuttle, Andre?" she asks. "Did that push you over the line?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]