Read Online Blackcollar: The Judas Solution by Timothy Zahn - Free Book Online Page B

still. There was a flicker of movement from the mansion itself, and Skyler was slammed backward as a flechette slammed into his chest, turning his flexarmor momentarily rigid as it blocked the shot and distributed the impact over his entire body. He dived away from the car as the flexarmor relaxed, dodging in a roll-leap evasive maneuver, wishing he'd had time to put on his battle-hood as he searched the windows for the sniper. There was a second flicker from one of the first-floor windows, and he caught a glimpse of a figure standing there as a patch of pavement beside him erupted into splinters. Dodging again to the side, he grabbed another shuriken and hurled it toward the window, knowing the sniper was well out of range but hoping to brush him back until O'Hara could get to cover and get out his slingshot.
    There was another flicker from the window; but this time the shot buried itself in a tree trunk five meters to Skyler's left. He pulled out another shuriken , wondering if the man could really have reacted that strongly to his first throw.
    And even as his brain caught up with the fact that that there had been two men at the window, the tingler on his wrist came to life: sniper down; house secure .
    Skyler huffed a sigh of relief. But there was no time to pause for congratulations. The two men who'd followed the car in from the gate were sprinting toward them now, one rapid-firing paral-dart bursts, the other laying down scattergun blasts as fast as he could work the pump.
    They were still coming when the paral-dart gunner abruptly folded over his stomach and flopped onto the ground. His partner had just enough time to work the scattergun pump one last time, and then his head jerked hard and he, too, crumpled into a heap.
    "You okay?" O'Hara called as he rose from the partial cover of the car, a third stone ready in his slingshot as he surveyed his work.
    "I'm fine," Skyler assured him, looking up at the stars overhead. Paral-dart guns meant Security, and Security meant high-flying spotters. He wondered how much of the brief battle they'd seen. "Let's get inside."
    Kanai was waiting inside the front door, and together they went back to the house's well-stocked library. Reger was seated in a large chair near the center, with a couple of bodies on the floor behind him and two uniformed Security officers posed stiffly against one wall. Standing watch over the whole thing was Hawking. "Any problems?" Skyler asked as they joined him.
    Hawking shook his head. "Most of them were conveniently grouped in the dining room, standing guard over the house men. The roamers were a little more trouble, but not much."
    "Good." Skyler turned to Reger. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Reger."
    "The pleasure's all yours," Reger countered sourly. "Skyler, isn't it?"
    "Yes," Skyler confirmed. He nodded toward the Security men. "Who are your friends?"
    " Nobody in this room qualifies as a friend," Reger retorted. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"
    "Making trouble," Skyler said, looking at the Security men. "And you are ...?"
    "General Avral Poirot, Denver Chief of Security," the older man identified himself, his voice as stiff as his posture but calm and professional for all that. "This is Assistant Chief Colonel Pytor Bailey. I see tonight's drop was personnel, not equipment. My mistake."
    "Mistakes happen," Skyler said. So even with their new nonchuted drop pod's faster descent, Security had still spotted it. That was useful to know. He hoped Lathe's zip line insertion on Khala had worked out better. "So was this just a social visit?"
    Poirot snorted. "Please, Commando. The very fact that you're in this room proves our suspicions of Reger and his Resistance connections were right."
    Reger swore under his breath. "Oh, that's wonderful," he ground out. "Just wonderful. Thank you, Skyler, thank you so very much."
    "A temporary problem only," Skyler assured him. "The general and colonel are about to graduate from the third type of person to