Krokodil Tears by Jack Yeovil

Author:Jack Yeovil [Yeovil, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 187237218X
Publisher: Games Workshop
Published: 1990-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

0001–0001.

She knew the procedure. There would be some top cat out there in the desert, sealed up tight in his High Performance Auto, sitting out the slaughter and counting the expenses. Mr Holderness or Mr Manolo, she expected.

There was supposed to be no way to get at the bastard. But she felt she had to try. She needed some leverage to help her attack the Op’s ve-hickle. She looked around for a tool, and found a soldier’s dropped bayonet. It still had a good edge.

It would have to do.

0001–0001.

Manolo stabbed the dashbuttons, intending to blank the reading. Only one figure disappeared.

0001.

It was 0001 in blue. His own reading. As long as the number was there on the dashscreen, he was alive.

He would have to sit it out, but he would live. He’d spend hours down at the Pyramid talking through his emotions on this one. There would be untold anguish to purge in the group sessions. But Gari would help him cope with it. Guilt was no good, he knew. He had to quash that, and learn to feel good about himself again. That was the main thing, to feel good about yourself.

He wished he hadn’t blasted so many beers. His bladder was full to straining, and there was no catheter-tube in the DeLorean. He would have to piss in the backseat, and that was imported Argentine leather hand-tooled by a specialist flown in from Tijuana.

He should never have taken on this penny-ante bounty hunt. Bob Holderness wouldn’t have touched it. He had wanted the Agency to specialize in political cases. That was probably why he wasn’t around any more. Manolo had always known there were men in suits behind the Surf Nazis, but he’d never carried the vendetta to them.

When he got out of here, he would make that up. He would track down the boardroom where the orders were issued, and he would declare all-out war on whichever Japcorp or state authority had been behind the singe.

The car shifted, and something clanged. She was out there. Jessamyn Bonney.

She couldn’t get in, but she was out there. The ve-hickle rang with her blows. She would get frustrated soon, and go away. Bronson Manolo could wait her out.

He had chewed his moustache ragged. His teeth were clogged with hair. That wasn’t supposed to happen. His barber-surgeon had guaranteed the attachments against all eventualities.

The banging continued.

0001.

Manolo muttered to himself. “Home freeee, you can’t get meee…”

She would have to be an H-M exec to get through the DeLorean’s brain, and unseal the system.

The banging stopped, and there was peace for a moment. She must be giving up, walking away. Manolo had pressed his bleep-alert. The Insurance people would be here within minutes.

There was a hum of machinery, and a hiss of expelling air.

It wasn’t possible. The car was rolling over and kicking its legs for her. The doorseals receded, the shutters vanished.

Manolo squirmed, pushing himself back against the seat. He didn’t even have a gun.

A breeze passed through, as the doors raised like beetle-wings.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.