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"
For
Christ
’
s
sake
,
Kovacs
,
"
Ortega
was
fumbling
for
her
own
weapon
.
"
Get
it
over
with
.
"
I
snapped
off
a
shot
and
the
shell
punched
the
synth
backwards
onto
the
glass
-
strewn
floor
.
It
twisted
a
couple
of
times
,
then
lay
still
but
breathing
sluggishly
.
As
I
watched
it
,
fascinated
,
a
gurgling
laugh
arose
from
its
mouth
.
"
That
’
s
fucking
enough
,
"
it
coughed
,
and
laughed
again
.
"
Eh
,
Kovacs
?
That
’
s
fucking
enough
.
"
The
words
held
me
in
shock
for
the
space
of
a
heartbeat
,
then
I
wheeled
and
made
for
the
door
,
dragging
Ortega
with
me
.
"
Wha
—
"
"
Out
.
Get
the
fuck
out
.
"
I
thrust
her
through
the
door
ahead
of
me
and
grabbed
the
railing
outside
.
The
dead
pistoleer
lay
twisted
on
the
walkway
ahead
.
I
shoved
Ortega
again
and
she
vaulted
the
body
awkwardly
.
Slamming
the
door
after
me
,
I
followed
her
at
a
run
.
We
were
almost
to
the
end
of
the
gantry
when
the
dome
behind
us
detonated
in
a
geyser
of
glass
and
steel
.
I
distinctly
heard
the
door
come
off
its
hinges
behind
us
,
and
then
the
blast
picked
us
both
up
like
discarded
coats
and
threw
us
down
the
stairs
into
the
street
.
The
police
are
more
impressive
by
night
.
First
of
all
you
’
ve
got
the
flashing
lights
casting
dramatic
colour
into
everyone
’
s
faces
,
grim
expressions
steeped
alternately
in
criminal
red
and
smoky
blue
.
Then
there
’
s
the
sound
of
the
sirens
on
the
night
,
like
an
elevator
ratcheting
down
the
levels
of
the
city
,
the
crackling
voices
of
the
comsets
,
somehow
brisk
and
mysterious
at
the
same
time
,
the
coming
and
going
of
dimly
lit
bulky
figures
and
snatches
of
cryptic
conversation
,
the
deployed
technology
of
law
enforcement
for
wakened
bystanders
to
gape
at
,
the
lack
of
anything
else
going
on
to
provide
a
vacuum
backdrop
.
There
can
be
absolutely
nothing
to
see
beyond
this
and
people
will
still
watch
for
hours
.
Nine
o
’
clock
on
a
workday
morning
it
’
s
a
different
matter
.
A
couple
of
cruisers
turned
up
in
response
to
Ortega
’
s
call
in
but
their
lights
and
sirens
were
barely
noticeable
above
the
general
racket
of
the
city
.
The
uniformed
crews
strung
incident
barriers
at
either
end
of
the
street
and
shepherded
customers
out
of
the
neighbouring
businesses
,
while
Ortega
persuaded
the
bank
’
s
private
security
not
to
arrest
me
as
a
possible
accessory
to
the
bombing
.
There
was
a
bounty
on
terrorists
,
apparently
.
A
crowd
of
sorts
developed
beyond
the
almost
invisible
hazing
of
the
barriers
,
but
it
seemed
mostly
composed
of
irate
pedestrians
trying
to
get
past
.
