Critical Intelligence. Don PendletonЧитать онлайн книгу.
just got here!” Schwarz protested.
“Hurry up,” Blancanales answered him. He caught sight of the approaching gangsters in the rearview mirror and snapped his cell phone shut, cutting off the angry Tsai. “If you don’t move fast, Schwarz, then Ironman is going to kill all the good ones.”
Stony Man Farm
BARBARA PRICE, hair still damp from her shower, finished dressing.
She was in the bedroom of the farmhouse where she kept toiletries and clothing for the times she spent overnight at Stony Man. Most weeks she spent more time sleeping here than she did at her D.C. town house.
The shower in the room’s bathroom was running as Mack Bolan rinsed off. He’d just returned from somewhere, doing something—Price had no idea what.
He’d smelled like gunpowder and had blood under his nails. The past half hour had been stolen moments, but stolen moments were the only moments the casual couple got.
She thought idly about perhaps stripping down again and joining him in the shower. What was another fifteen minutes if she was in a stealing mood?
The push-talk application on her SME PED broke squelch and she heard Kurtzman’s gruff voice call out to her from across the Farm in the Annex.
“You on, Barb?” the leader of the cyberteam asked.
Price sighed and rose off the rumpled bed. She felt a pang at the missed opportunity but by the time she reached the phone the feeling was gone. With practiced self-discipline she slammed her shields down, brought her discipline up and become once again mission controller.
“Go ahead, Bear.”
“Barb, Carmen has pulled something out possibly relating to Seven. I think you should take a look.”
“Copy. I’m en route to your twenty now.”
“I’ll have the coffee ready.”
“Don’t threaten me, Bear.”
Price turned to look in the mirror over the dresser and pushed a stray strand of her blond hair behind an ear. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together. Whoever this Seven was, Price could tell she was starting to get their scent in her nose now.
It’s only a matter of time, she thought. She left the room, mind completely absorbed in the problem now.
Bolan would figure out something had come up easily enough.
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