Breakaway: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Joel Shepherd
excuses, reasons to be listened to. Religious loonies always believed their truths were universal. That there was such a thing as truth itself. It was their weakness.
A blue flash lit the air. Claude jerked and convulsed, then fell from the bench.
Reflex overcoming initial surprise, Ari leapt forward, awkwardly catching the falling body one-armed, the other ready in case the vest tumbled from its hiding spot ... it didn't. He dumped the young man's limp body upon the floor between stainless steel benches and checked his vitals. Racing heartbeat, but he was still breathing.
"CSA give you that too?" he asked, searching Claude's pockets.
"Of course," said Ayako, coming down the aisle and repocketing her stunner. "You can get them through the underground, of course, but they're too expensive."
Ari found the sidearm, an Ubek-5 again, and plenty powerful for a concealed weapon.
"That Claude?"
"Yeah ... I think he's the last. There's at least two outside. Four's the absolute limit I'd have thought could get in. The rest of it looks pretty well covered."
"And you left someone alive to question this time." Ayako sounded impressed. "You're evolving as a CSA operative, Am"
"First guy who gave me a choice," Ari replied, finishing with one leg, then the other. There was a light thump as Ayako leapt onto the counter behind, and started to gingerly remove the explosive vest from up against the ceiling. "You know," he added, "I always picked Claude for a nutter, but suicide vests are just a bit extreme."
"The future of the human race is something that tends to make them a bit upset." After disarming the vest, Ayako pulled it down. A simple contraption, a basic vest with flat, body-hugging pockets, a few wires and a trigger switch. Too slim to be visible under an evening jacket. "You know, if this keeps up, you're going to lose all your lunatic friends very shortly."
"Oh no." Ari gazed down at the young terrorist's calm, sleeping face. "I can always make new friends. Plenty more where these came from."
he swell was large today.
Sandy sat on her board, part submerged in the heaving sea, and watched the churning curl of the last wave pass, thundering on toward the beach. Breaking, a muffled roar of collapsing water, headed for the distant shore. A surfer emerged from the churning wash, nose first, and resumed paddling. Lost, momentarily, as the swell took her down again, and moving dunes of water rolled between, glittering in the pale light of an overcast sky.
The wind was changing. Sandy turned to face into it, brisk and salt-smelling from the south-east, blowing leftwards along the north-south coastline. And tending now to onshore, she thought, as it whipped at careless strands of salt-wet hair, narrowing her eyes as it chopped the heaving seas to a broken mess. Soon it would be completely onshore, and the scudding patches of low cloud would turn to thick, blackening thunderheads, dark with the lateness of autumn.
Another swell lifted her, and suddenly, she could see a long way. The long, thin line of coast, stretching away to the southern distance. Nearby to the right, Lindolin Heads, a flaring mass of dark rock and sprawling reef, the surrounding sea flat with white, broken wash. Further out, the breakers pounded, exploding white spray along the outer reef. Beyond, a pleasure boat was cruising a rolling, bounding course through the roughening seas. Back on the near beach, the small figures of people, watching from the shore.
The other surfer continued out on a different angle, briefly hidden by the rolling swell. It was no one she recognised.
Weather for serious surfers, she thought idly, scanning the surrounding sea for other dark, wetsuited figures upon the broken surface. There were several, widely spaced across the broad stretch of beach front.
A faint smile played at her lips. So she was a serious surfer now. Vanessa thought so. Vanessa had wanted her company at lunch, with friends and family. Vanessa hadn't
A blue flash lit the air. Claude jerked and convulsed, then fell from the bench.
Reflex overcoming initial surprise, Ari leapt forward, awkwardly catching the falling body one-armed, the other ready in case the vest tumbled from its hiding spot ... it didn't. He dumped the young man's limp body upon the floor between stainless steel benches and checked his vitals. Racing heartbeat, but he was still breathing.
"CSA give you that too?" he asked, searching Claude's pockets.
"Of course," said Ayako, coming down the aisle and repocketing her stunner. "You can get them through the underground, of course, but they're too expensive."
Ari found the sidearm, an Ubek-5 again, and plenty powerful for a concealed weapon.
"That Claude?"
"Yeah ... I think he's the last. There's at least two outside. Four's the absolute limit I'd have thought could get in. The rest of it looks pretty well covered."
"And you left someone alive to question this time." Ayako sounded impressed. "You're evolving as a CSA operative, Am"
"First guy who gave me a choice," Ari replied, finishing with one leg, then the other. There was a light thump as Ayako leapt onto the counter behind, and started to gingerly remove the explosive vest from up against the ceiling. "You know," he added, "I always picked Claude for a nutter, but suicide vests are just a bit extreme."
"The future of the human race is something that tends to make them a bit upset." After disarming the vest, Ayako pulled it down. A simple contraption, a basic vest with flat, body-hugging pockets, a few wires and a trigger switch. Too slim to be visible under an evening jacket. "You know, if this keeps up, you're going to lose all your lunatic friends very shortly."
"Oh no." Ari gazed down at the young terrorist's calm, sleeping face. "I can always make new friends. Plenty more where these came from."
he swell was large today.
Sandy sat on her board, part submerged in the heaving sea, and watched the churning curl of the last wave pass, thundering on toward the beach. Breaking, a muffled roar of collapsing water, headed for the distant shore. A surfer emerged from the churning wash, nose first, and resumed paddling. Lost, momentarily, as the swell took her down again, and moving dunes of water rolled between, glittering in the pale light of an overcast sky.
The wind was changing. Sandy turned to face into it, brisk and salt-smelling from the south-east, blowing leftwards along the north-south coastline. And tending now to onshore, she thought, as it whipped at careless strands of salt-wet hair, narrowing her eyes as it chopped the heaving seas to a broken mess. Soon it would be completely onshore, and the scudding patches of low cloud would turn to thick, blackening thunderheads, dark with the lateness of autumn.
Another swell lifted her, and suddenly, she could see a long way. The long, thin line of coast, stretching away to the southern distance. Nearby to the right, Lindolin Heads, a flaring mass of dark rock and sprawling reef, the surrounding sea flat with white, broken wash. Further out, the breakers pounded, exploding white spray along the outer reef. Beyond, a pleasure boat was cruising a rolling, bounding course through the roughening seas. Back on the near beach, the small figures of people, watching from the shore.
The other surfer continued out on a different angle, briefly hidden by the rolling swell. It was no one she recognised.
Weather for serious surfers, she thought idly, scanning the surrounding sea for other dark, wetsuited figures upon the broken surface. There were several, widely spaced across the broad stretch of beach front.
A faint smile played at her lips. So she was a serious surfer now. Vanessa thought so. Vanessa had wanted her company at lunch, with friends and family. Vanessa hadn't
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