L Frank Baum Oz 08 Tik Tok of Oz
L Frank Baum Oz 06 The Emerald City of Oz
Wells Herbert George Niew
Herbert Frank Tom 2 Dune Messiah
Wilmar Shiras Children of the Atom
DEIRDRE MANIFOLD FATIMA I WIELKI SPISEK
Dziecko zwane niczym czyli dziecićÂca wola przetrwania Dave Pelzer
Golding William Papierowi ludzie
Anne McCaffrey Pern 04 Dragon Singer
Blackmailed Sister in law
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
preparation: read all of the material, study all of the plans. It had not
surprised her that Carlos was in Archives. He had an Archives mind.
The trip to Oregon and the cozy journey in the van-camper had been everything
she'd expected.
Crawling hands and a crawling mind. She had finally told Carlos that she'd
contracted a serious venereal disease on her previous assignment. He refused
to believe her. Quite calmly, she'd told him then that if he persisted, she
would put a bullet in him. She had displayed the small Belgian automatic she
always wore in its wrist holster. Something about the clear calmness of her
manner told him to believe this. But he had taken the rebuff in muttering bad
grace.
The job was another matter, though, and she'd wished him luck when he took off
in his ridiculous bird-watching clothes. All through the long day then, when
she'd been fulfilling her part of the
cover by painting, she had grown increasingly nervous. There had been no
particular thing on which to focus her uneasiness, nothing concrete to explain
it. The whole scene bothered her. It reeked of trouble. Carlos had been
predictably imprecise about his estimate of return time. It all depended on
what he saw in his preliminary scan of the farm.
"Shortly after dark at the latest," he'd said. "You be a good wife and paint
your pretty pictures while I go look for birds. When I come back, I'll teach
you all about the birds and the bees."
"Carlos!"
"Ahhh, my love, someday I shall teach you to say that exquisite name with true
passion." And the bastard had chucked her under the chin as he took his
leave.
Tymiena had watched him zigzag his way up the grass-brown slope into the
trees. The day was already warm and filled with that special kind of
insect-singing stillness that spoke of more heat to come. Sighing, she had
Page 53
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
taken out her watercolor materials. She actually was quite a good
watercolorist and, occasionally, during the long day she had experienced real
involvement in capturing the essence of the autumn fields. The golden browns
were particularly warm and inviting.
Shortly after midday, she put her painting aside temporarily and fixed herself
a light lunch of sliced hard-boiled eggs and yogurt cold from the camper's
icebox. During the break, although the camper's interior was oven hot, she
stayed inside to check over the instruments. To her surprise, the speed-trap
warning, which could be turned on its base and had a null indicator, showed
radar activity in the direction of the farm. There was a clear signal aimed
at the camper.
Radar surveillance of her from the farm?
She interpreted this as a danger sign and thought of going after Carlos to
call him back. An alternative was to warm up the radio and report this
development to headquarters. She knew with a sure instinct that headquarters
would make light of it. And Carlos had ordered her to stay with the camper.
In the end, she opted for neither course. Her own indecision added a
frustrating accent to the nervousness that afflicted her throughout the
afternoon. The sense of danger accumulated. She felt that something was
warning her to get out of there. Leave the camper and get out of there! The
camper was a big, fat target.
In the half-light of dusk, she folded up her painting tablet, dropped it and
her paints on the cab seat, and slipped into the seat. It took a moment to
warm up the radio and she checked the signal monitor, found a search resonance
fanning across her own frequency. When she keyed her transmitter, the search
resonance homed on her signal and jammed it. The monitor howled with the
interference. She slapped the off switch, stared up the dusky hillside toward
the farm. The place was not visible from this parking spot, but she felt it
out there as a malevolent presence.
There was still no sign of Carlos.
Darkness would be on her within minutes. She felt nervously for the little
automatic in its wrist holster.
What the hell was delaying Carlos?
She turned off all of the camper's lights, sat in the settling darkness.
Radar from the farm's direction. They jammed her radio. This case had turned
nasty. She stood up, moved softly to the rear door, slipped out on the side
opposite the farm. The van itself would shield her from that searching beam. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
