Read Online Cold Allies by Patricia Anthony - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Anthony
Ads: Link
caught sight of the glow coming up the ravine, Gordon stiffened, believing at first that the Arab platoon had finally found him.
It was Rover.
The light floated happily toward him over the rocks like a dumb, friendly dog.
“Go away,” he whispered.
Rover stopped, hovered. The sound of the helicopter changed from an indistinct growl to a quiet flutter.
“Get the fuck away!” Gordon hissed.
Reaching out, Gordon grabbed a nearby tree limb and pulled it over the front of his unit. A few yards from him Rover was bobbing up and down in place, a balloon at the end of a tether.
Whop-whop. WHOP-WHOP. The Hind was just above Gordon, coming in low over the trees. Suddenly the north side of the stream lit up in sickly shades of night-vision green.
Above Gordon’s head came a sound as if something heavy and soft had fallen from a height, the noise of an ATGM leaving its tube. Instinctively, Gordon shut his eyes. A second later the missile hit with a comic book KA-BLAM that set Gordon’s ears ringing. Mud and small stones pattered on the CRAV’s exposed hull.
When Gordon opened his eyes, he saw that both lights were gone. The clear stream was making a waterfall into a newly dug crater.
THE LINCOLN MEMORIAL, WASHINGTON, D.C.
The rising sun turned the Reflecting Pool what Mrs. Parisi might have decided was a charming color had she not been waiting so impatiently.
The morning had turned from peach to gold by the time the publisher pulled up in an electric-powered Chevy van and stopped.
Tad was chain-smoking. His little effeminate face was pinched. “Oh my God, Linda,” he blurted. “Are you all right?”
“Did you bring the money?” she asked.
He handed her a thick envelope. She opened it and peered inside: the tractable boy had brought all two thousand. The bills, she saw at a glance, were newish but not stridently so.
“What are you going to do?” Tad wailed.
Glancing up at his disheveled blond hair, she twisted her mouth in disgust. The least the man could have done was make himself presentable. She wondered if he had rented the van with his hair all stuck up like that. “Well, I’m leaving, dear.”
“For where?”
“I think it’s best you don’t know. You might inadvertently tell them.”
Tad’s pale-blue eyes darted toward the traffic on Constitution Avenue. “Oh, God,” he said under his breath. “They’ll get me, too, won’t they. No telling what I’ll say under torture.”
‘That’s right.” She handed him the purse. “Now listen,” she told him. “I want you to take this back to Fairfax Hospital and give it to a Sally Glenndarning. Tell her I am so appreciative of the loan of her dress, and that I hope she won’t file charges.”
Tad’s blue eyes widened. For an instant he actually seemed intelligent and awake. “File charges? Oh, God. What about the van?”
“You should probably pay for it, dear. That’s what the Eridanians have told me.”
“Okay,” he said glumly. “I rented the nicest they had.
It’ll be expensive,” he added.
“Tad, if you’ll remember, the Eridanians have no concept of money. And you mustn’t complain. They can sense that, you know.”
Still morose, Tad nodded.
“But, just to show I love and trust you, I’m leaving you my dog.”
She jerked open the door pointedly. After some hesitation, he clambered out.
“Can you drop me off at National?” he asked so pitifully that she was almost inclined to take him. But it was best, she knew, to get on the road early, before the heavy traffic began.
Climbing into the seat, she slammed the door and looked out at him. Really, the boy needed a comb and a few hours more sleep. “Why don’t you take a cab,” she suggested, keying the ignition.
The van started with a soft hum. The dash readouts came on, the charge light reading FULL. She drove off, leaving Tad standing in the parking lot, staring forlornly after her.
As Mrs. Parisi sped over the Arlington Memorial Bridge, she rolled down the
It was Rover.
The light floated happily toward him over the rocks like a dumb, friendly dog.
“Go away,” he whispered.
Rover stopped, hovered. The sound of the helicopter changed from an indistinct growl to a quiet flutter.
“Get the fuck away!” Gordon hissed.
Reaching out, Gordon grabbed a nearby tree limb and pulled it over the front of his unit. A few yards from him Rover was bobbing up and down in place, a balloon at the end of a tether.
Whop-whop. WHOP-WHOP. The Hind was just above Gordon, coming in low over the trees. Suddenly the north side of the stream lit up in sickly shades of night-vision green.
Above Gordon’s head came a sound as if something heavy and soft had fallen from a height, the noise of an ATGM leaving its tube. Instinctively, Gordon shut his eyes. A second later the missile hit with a comic book KA-BLAM that set Gordon’s ears ringing. Mud and small stones pattered on the CRAV’s exposed hull.
When Gordon opened his eyes, he saw that both lights were gone. The clear stream was making a waterfall into a newly dug crater.
THE LINCOLN MEMORIAL, WASHINGTON, D.C.
The rising sun turned the Reflecting Pool what Mrs. Parisi might have decided was a charming color had she not been waiting so impatiently.
The morning had turned from peach to gold by the time the publisher pulled up in an electric-powered Chevy van and stopped.
Tad was chain-smoking. His little effeminate face was pinched. “Oh my God, Linda,” he blurted. “Are you all right?”
“Did you bring the money?” she asked.
He handed her a thick envelope. She opened it and peered inside: the tractable boy had brought all two thousand. The bills, she saw at a glance, were newish but not stridently so.
“What are you going to do?” Tad wailed.
Glancing up at his disheveled blond hair, she twisted her mouth in disgust. The least the man could have done was make himself presentable. She wondered if he had rented the van with his hair all stuck up like that. “Well, I’m leaving, dear.”
“For where?”
“I think it’s best you don’t know. You might inadvertently tell them.”
Tad’s pale-blue eyes darted toward the traffic on Constitution Avenue. “Oh, God,” he said under his breath. “They’ll get me, too, won’t they. No telling what I’ll say under torture.”
‘That’s right.” She handed him the purse. “Now listen,” she told him. “I want you to take this back to Fairfax Hospital and give it to a Sally Glenndarning. Tell her I am so appreciative of the loan of her dress, and that I hope she won’t file charges.”
Tad’s blue eyes widened. For an instant he actually seemed intelligent and awake. “File charges? Oh, God. What about the van?”
“You should probably pay for it, dear. That’s what the Eridanians have told me.”
“Okay,” he said glumly. “I rented the nicest they had.
It’ll be expensive,” he added.
“Tad, if you’ll remember, the Eridanians have no concept of money. And you mustn’t complain. They can sense that, you know.”
Still morose, Tad nodded.
“But, just to show I love and trust you, I’m leaving you my dog.”
She jerked open the door pointedly. After some hesitation, he clambered out.
“Can you drop me off at National?” he asked so pitifully that she was almost inclined to take him. But it was best, she knew, to get on the road early, before the heavy traffic began.
Climbing into the seat, she slammed the door and looked out at him. Really, the boy needed a comb and a few hours more sleep. “Why don’t you take a cab,” she suggested, keying the ignition.
The van started with a soft hum. The dash readouts came on, the charge light reading FULL. She drove off, leaving Tad standing in the parking lot, staring forlornly after her.
As Mrs. Parisi sped over the Arlington Memorial Bridge, she rolled down the
Similar Books
