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- Ричард Морган
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- Стр. 461/560
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She
jacked
the
last
shell
into
the
frag
gun
,
then
executed
a
neat
somersault
over
the
gantry
rail
and
fell
outwards
.
About
a
metre
into
the
fall
,
the
grav
harness
on
her
back
spread
its
wings
and
she
fetched
up
hanging
over
us
at
head
height
with
the
gun
slung
across
her
shoulder
.
In
her
long
black
coat
,
she
looked
like
an
off
-
duty
dark
angel
.
Adjusting
a
dial
on
the
harness
,
she
drifted
closer
to
the
floor
and
finally
touched
down
next
to
Kadmin
.
I
limped
up
to
join
her
.
We
both
looked
at
the
ripped
-
open
corpse
in
silence
for
a
moment
.
"
Thanks
,
"
I
said
softly
.
"
Forget
it
.
All
part
of
the
service
.
Sorry
I
had
to
bring
in
these
guys
,
but
I
needed
the
backup
,
and
fast
.
You
know
what
they
say
about
the
Sia
around
here
.
Biggest
fucking
gang
on
the
block
,
right
?
"
She
nodded
at
Kadmin
"
You
going
to
leave
him
like
that
?
"
I
stared
at
the
Right
Hand
of
God
martyr
with
his
face
shocked
into
abrupt
death
,
and
tried
to
see
the
Patchwork
Man
inside
him
.
"
No
,
"
I
said
,
and
turned
the
corpse
over
with
my
foot
so
that
the
nape
of
the
neck
was
exposed
.
"
Bautista
,
you
want
to
lend
me
that
firecracker
?
"
Wordlessly
,
the
cop
handed
me
his
blaster
.
I
set
the
muzzle
against
the
base
of
the
Patchwork
Man
’
s
skull
,
rested
it
there
and
waited
to
feel
something
.
"
Anyone
want
to
say
anything
?
"
cracked
Trepp
,
deadpan
.
Bautista
turned
away
.
"
Just
do
it
.
"
If
my
father
had
any
comments
,
he
kept
them
to
himself
.
