[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Natalia began to turn to Santiago, but then her eyes drifted across the room
to a white-coated, dark-skinned steward entering the room. The man stopped
beside Santiago and placed a silver tray on the table before him. Santiago
unfolded a note on the tray, nodded to the steward, and returned the note to
the tray. The steward picked up the tray and left. Santiago looked at her a
moment, then said, "My dear Major Tiemerovna, there is a radio-telephone
message for you. You may take it on the telephone in your room if you wish."
"Thank you." Natalia stood and both Santiago and Miklov began to rise.
"Please, gentlemen," she murmured, sweeping past the end of the table and
touching the fingers of her left hand to Santiago's epauletted shoulder as she
walked by.
Natalia crossed the room, feeling Santiago's eyes on her, then opened the
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double doors and walked through the doorway, closing them behind her. She
leaned against the door a moment, looking down at the carpet beneath her feet.
The caller had to be Varakov, she knew. She pushed away from the door and
started toward the stairs, running up to the second floor of the house, then
to the door of her room, quickly opening it. She walked inside and closed the
door behind her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing her skirt under
her, she lifted the telephone receiver, pulling off an earring as she brought
the earpiece up. "This is Major Tiemerovna," she said into the receiver.
"Natalia, listen carefully," her uncle's voice began. "Rourke called me the
news he had was important. He used one of our own radio receivers. That is not
important, though. Listen carefully."
Natalia looked down at her lap, then past the hem of her light blue skirt,
along her bare legs and to her feet, then along the blue carpet and toward the
glass doors leading onto the balcony and past the open curtains. She could
just see the ocean beyond. "John Rourke," she whispered into the telephone.
She heard her uncle telling her of the impending destruction of Florida, the
meeting she had to arrange under a flag of truce for Rourke and the Wiznewski
woman with General Santiago. She heard all of it, but the words that most
stayed with her were, "John Rourke." She would see him again....
For several minutes after the conversation with her uncle she lay back across
the bed. It was incredibly new to her, the idea that she could love someone
and yet debate whether or not she should try to kill him.
Chapter 37
"I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about, fella," the red-faced,
beer-bellied man told Rubenstein, then turned back to work on his boat.
"Captain Reed gave me your name, Tolliver. He said you were the man down
here."
"I don't know no Captain Reed. Now get out of here!"
Paul Rubenstein, the sun glaring down on him, his legs tensed, realized then
he'd been balling his fists opened and closed. He reached out with his left
hand and grabbed the florid-faced Tolliver by the left shoulder and spun him
around, his right fist flashing out and catching the larger man at the base of
the chin, the man falling back across the front of his boat.
Tolliver pushed himself up onto his elbows, squinting at Rubenstein. "Who the
hell are you, boy?"
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"I told you," Rubenstein said, his voice low. "My name is Paul Rubenstein.
I'm just a guy who needs your help. I know Captain Reed of U.S. II. He gave me
your name when I told him I was coming down here. Now you're bigger than I am,
probably stronger, but believe me, I can be meaner I learned since the Night
of the War. Now," Rubenstein shouted, "I need your help!"
"Doin' what?"
"You ever go down by the camp the big one?"
"Maybe."
"I'm going to break everybody out of there and you're going to help me."
"You're full of shit, boy."
Rubenstein glanced over his shoulder, saw no one by the sandy cove where he'd
found Tolliver working on his beached boat. Then Rubenstein reached under his
leather jacket and pulled out the Browning High Power, shoving the muzzle less
than two inches from Tolliver's nose. The hammer went back with an audible
double click. "If you can sleep nights seeing those people in there, then
whatever I could do to you would be a favor. You either help me round up some
people in the Resistance to get those folks out of there, or I'm killing you
where you stand."
"You're the one caused all that fracas there this morning, ain't you?"
Rubenstein nodded, then said, "Yeah I am."
"Put the gun away. Why the hell didn't you say so in the first place. I'll
help, then we can all get ourselves killed together. Never fancied much dying
alone, if you get my drift."
Rubenstein raised the safety on the Browning and started to shift it down
when there was a blur in front of his eyes. Tolliver's right fist moved and
Rubenstein fell back into the sand, starting to grab for his gun.
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"Now take it easy, fella. That was just to make us even. You shoot me, and
you'll never find the Resistance people."
And Tolliver's big florid face creased into a smile, and he stuck out his
right hand. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl chiara76.opx.pl
Natalia began to turn to Santiago, but then her eyes drifted across the room
to a white-coated, dark-skinned steward entering the room. The man stopped
beside Santiago and placed a silver tray on the table before him. Santiago
unfolded a note on the tray, nodded to the steward, and returned the note to
the tray. The steward picked up the tray and left. Santiago looked at her a
moment, then said, "My dear Major Tiemerovna, there is a radio-telephone
message for you. You may take it on the telephone in your room if you wish."
"Thank you." Natalia stood and both Santiago and Miklov began to rise.
"Please, gentlemen," she murmured, sweeping past the end of the table and
touching the fingers of her left hand to Santiago's epauletted shoulder as she
walked by.
Natalia crossed the room, feeling Santiago's eyes on her, then opened the
Page 99
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
double doors and walked through the doorway, closing them behind her. She
leaned against the door a moment, looking down at the carpet beneath her feet.
The caller had to be Varakov, she knew. She pushed away from the door and
started toward the stairs, running up to the second floor of the house, then
to the door of her room, quickly opening it. She walked inside and closed the
door behind her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing her skirt under
her, she lifted the telephone receiver, pulling off an earring as she brought
the earpiece up. "This is Major Tiemerovna," she said into the receiver.
"Natalia, listen carefully," her uncle's voice began. "Rourke called me the
news he had was important. He used one of our own radio receivers. That is not
important, though. Listen carefully."
Natalia looked down at her lap, then past the hem of her light blue skirt,
along her bare legs and to her feet, then along the blue carpet and toward the
glass doors leading onto the balcony and past the open curtains. She could
just see the ocean beyond. "John Rourke," she whispered into the telephone.
She heard her uncle telling her of the impending destruction of Florida, the
meeting she had to arrange under a flag of truce for Rourke and the Wiznewski
woman with General Santiago. She heard all of it, but the words that most
stayed with her were, "John Rourke." She would see him again....
For several minutes after the conversation with her uncle she lay back across
the bed. It was incredibly new to her, the idea that she could love someone
and yet debate whether or not she should try to kill him.
Chapter 37
"I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about, fella," the red-faced,
beer-bellied man told Rubenstein, then turned back to work on his boat.
"Captain Reed gave me your name, Tolliver. He said you were the man down
here."
"I don't know no Captain Reed. Now get out of here!"
Paul Rubenstein, the sun glaring down on him, his legs tensed, realized then
he'd been balling his fists opened and closed. He reached out with his left
hand and grabbed the florid-faced Tolliver by the left shoulder and spun him
around, his right fist flashing out and catching the larger man at the base of
the chin, the man falling back across the front of his boat.
Tolliver pushed himself up onto his elbows, squinting at Rubenstein. "Who the
hell are you, boy?"
Page 100
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"I told you," Rubenstein said, his voice low. "My name is Paul Rubenstein.
I'm just a guy who needs your help. I know Captain Reed of U.S. II. He gave me
your name when I told him I was coming down here. Now you're bigger than I am,
probably stronger, but believe me, I can be meaner I learned since the Night
of the War. Now," Rubenstein shouted, "I need your help!"
"Doin' what?"
"You ever go down by the camp the big one?"
"Maybe."
"I'm going to break everybody out of there and you're going to help me."
"You're full of shit, boy."
Rubenstein glanced over his shoulder, saw no one by the sandy cove where he'd
found Tolliver working on his beached boat. Then Rubenstein reached under his
leather jacket and pulled out the Browning High Power, shoving the muzzle less
than two inches from Tolliver's nose. The hammer went back with an audible
double click. "If you can sleep nights seeing those people in there, then
whatever I could do to you would be a favor. You either help me round up some
people in the Resistance to get those folks out of there, or I'm killing you
where you stand."
"You're the one caused all that fracas there this morning, ain't you?"
Rubenstein nodded, then said, "Yeah I am."
"Put the gun away. Why the hell didn't you say so in the first place. I'll
help, then we can all get ourselves killed together. Never fancied much dying
alone, if you get my drift."
Rubenstein raised the safety on the Browning and started to shift it down
when there was a blur in front of his eyes. Tolliver's right fist moved and
Rubenstein fell back into the sand, starting to grab for his gun.
Page 101
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Now take it easy, fella. That was just to make us even. You shoot me, and
you'll never find the Resistance people."
And Tolliver's big florid face creased into a smile, and he stuck out his
right hand. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]