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- Ричард Морган
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"
The
way
I
figure
it
,
the
detonator
was
wired
into
his
vital
signs
,
right
?
You
snuff
him
and
boom
,
he
takes
you
with
him
.
Me
too
.
And
the
cheap
hired
help
.
"
"
And
wipes
out
his
own
stack
and
sleeve
.
"
I
nodded
.
"
Tidy
,
isn
’
t
it
?
"
"
So
what
went
wrong
?
"
I
rubbed
absently
at
the
scar
under
my
eye
.
"
He
overestimated
me
.
I
was
supposed
to
kill
him
outright
,
but
I
missed
.
Probably
would
have
killed
himself
at
that
stage
,
but
I
messed
up
his
arm
trying
to
stop
the
machine
pistol
.
"
In
my
mind
’
s
eye
the
gun
drops
from
splayed
fingers
and
skitters
across
the
floor
.
"
Blew
it
way
out
of
his
reach
as
well
.
He
must
have
been
lying
there
,
willing
himself
to
die
when
he
heard
us
leaving
.
Wonder
what
make
of
synth
he
was
using
.
"
"
Whoever
it
was
,
they
can
have
an
endorsement
from
me
any
day
of
the
week
,
"
said
Ortega
cheerfully
.
"
Maybe
there
’
ll
be
something
left
for
forensics
after
all
.
"
"
You
know
who
it
was
,
don
’
t
you
?
"
"
He
called
you
Kov
—
"
"
It
was
Kadmin
.
"
There
was
a
short
silence
.
I
watched
the
smoke
curling
up
from
the
ruined
dome
.
Ortega
breathed
in
,
out
.
"
Kadmin
’
s
in
the
store
.
"
