Perry, Steve - Matador 07 - Brother Death by Perry Steve

Perry, Steve - Matador 07 - Brother Death by Perry Steve

Author:Perry, Steve [Perry, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-08-15T15:35:20+00:00


Bork's vision cleared. He was lying on his side, staring at the base of a bush covered with green thorns.

The air smelled funny, a sweetish odor. Roses, he realized. He couldn't remember how he had gotten here. He had no idea how long he had been here.

An alarm chirred, over and over, and a woman screamed.

Bork shoved himself up. His head nearly exploded, red plashed over his eyes, he throbbed in tune to his heartbeat. What-?

A big robed figure was approaching an old woman. Bork didn't know who they were, but the big one had a sword.

Whose side was he on? Bork had time to wonder.

The woman screamed again.

"Hey!" Bork yelled. That hurt his head. "Hey! Stop!"

The big robed figure turned. Bork pointed his hands at the guy, both spetsdods centered on the guy's chest. "Put down the sword!"

The man had something wrong with his face.

A flash of memory hit Bork like a strobe. Being tossed through the air like a child. Bork blinked, shook his head. No. Couldn't be.

The swordsman was five meters away; he could reach Bork in a second, he hurried. "Put it down!"

What was that on the front of his robe? Looked like flies stuck there; no, those were darts. What did that mean?

Armorweave, that's what.

The blackness swam up from some hidden depth and tried to claim him. Bork could feel himself losing it. He staggered, fell to one knee. Fought the thing trying to drag him under. Wished he knew what was going on.

The robed man looked back at the old woman, who was making a pretty good speed for parts elsewhere.

Glanced back at Bork. Turned to follow the woman.

"No!" As the darkness washed over his sight, Bork remembered that his left spetsdod carried special loads. He pointed the weapon and triggered it. It coughed five times. Only five? He didn't hear any explosions. Must be armorpiercing, he thought, only had five in the magazine. And explosive rounds would explode, right?

The last thing he saw before he went under the black veil again was the robed figure grabbing at one shoulder and staggering. Gotcha, he thought.

Gone.

Bork awoke in a medical box, a minimum Healy 'unit, looked like. Didn't even have the lid down. Taz and somebody he didn't know stood next to him.

Some of it came back immediately. The client!

"The old lady?"

"Okay," Taz said. "She, uh, got hit on the buttock by one of your darts. Punched right through, didn't do any real damage. She's awake now and pissed off."

"What about the big guy in the robe?"

Taz shook her head. "No sign of him."

That surprised him. "I hit him with an AP dart. He should have gone down. How long?"

"You've been out for three hours. The labbos dug around outside and found four darts, counting the one that poked a hole in M. Jorine. They say that's all there is."

"I shot all five."

"Then the assassin must have taken it with him."

Bork tried to shake his head. Ouch. "I don't see how. He took a solid hit.



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