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- Ричард Морган
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She
dug
in
her
breast
pocket
and
tossed
me
a
small
packet
.
I
caught
it
reflexively
and
looked
down
.
Cigarettes
.
"
Be
seeing
you
.
"
She
swung
herself
aboard
the
transport
and
slammed
the
hatch
.
Through
the
glass
I
saw
her
looking
at
me
.
The
transport
lifted
on
full
repulse
,
pulverising
the
ground
beneath
and
ripping
a
furrow
across
the
lawn
as
it
swung
west
towards
the
ocean
.
We
watched
it
out
of
sight
.
"
Charming
,
"
said
the
woman
beside
me
,
largely
to
herself
.
"
Mrs
.
Bancroft
?
"
She
swung
around
.
From
the
look
on
her
face
,
I
wasn
’
t
much
more
welcome
here
than
Ortega
had
been
.
She
had
seen
the
lieutenant
’
s
gesture
of
camaraderie
and
her
lips
twitched
with
disapproval
.
"
My
husband
sent
a
car
for
you
,
Mr
.
Kovacs
.
Why
didn
’
t
you
wait
for
it
?
"
I
took
out
Bancroft
’
s
letter
.
"
It
says
here
the
car
would
be
waiting
for
me
.
It
wasn
’
t
.
"
She
tried
to
take
the
letter
from
me
and
I
lifted
it
out
of
her
reach
.
She
stood
facing
me
,
flushed
,
breasts
rising
and
falling
distractingly
.
When
they
stick
a
body
in
the
tank
,
it
goes
on
producing
hormones
pretty
much
the
way
it
would
if
you
were
asleep
.
I
became
abruptly
aware
that
I
was
swinging
a
hard
-
on
like
a
filled
fire
hose
.
