Dragonback 02 Dragon and Soldier Read Online Free

straight at Jack, a very unpleasant look
on his face.
    Jack let his eyes drift away, trying hard to look as innocent as a
newborn kitten. It looked like he was going to have to do this right
under the guard's nose.
    Okay. No problem. Bracing himself, hoping the dragon really was ready, he turned around suddenly as if startled and leaned his head
slightly into the office. As he did so, his right hand dipped into the
open doorway—
    The sudden weight on his palm nearly toppled him over onto his
nose. Fortunately, it disappeared almost immediately as Draycos
flattened himself into two-dimensional form onto Jack's skin and
slithered up his arm beneath his shirt. Jack regained his balance and
turned back around.
    And was suddenly hauled nearly off his feet by the front of his
jacket.
    The door guard was no longer at the door. He was standing right in
front of Jack, a fistful of Jack's jacket clutched in his hand.
    And the unpleasant expression had become downright ugly.

CHAPTER 3

    "What do you think you're doing?" the guard demanded. His voice
was surprisingly quiet, almost civilized. It made the glare on his face
even scarier by contrast.
    "I thought I heard something," Jack said, trying to sound nervous
and flustered. It didn't take much acting. "Like there was someone in
there."
    "So?" the guard demanded. He turned his hand a little, twisting
the wad of jacket in his grip. "What's it to you?"
    Jack would have thought the conversation was quiet enough to have
escaped notice. He was wrong. "Sergeant?" the deep voice called from
the other end of the room.
    "Got a candidate here for an Intelligence assignment, sir," the
guard called back. "Caught his nose where it wasn't supposed to be."
    "Bring him," the voice ordered.
    The guard let go of the front of Jack's coat, shifting his grip to
the back collar, and quick-marched him across the room. The crowd of
teens magically parted in front of them, leaving a clear path to the
two desks.
    Jack hadn't yet had a good look at the man at the second desk.
Now, as the guard shoved him forward, he saw that the other was younger
than he'd first thought. He was probably no older than his late
twenties, though the gray hair made him seem twice that age. His
expression was cool and thoughtful as he watched Jack approach. His
collar insignia was that of a lieutenant; the small nameplate over his
right shirt pocket read BASHT.
    He waited until Jack had been deposited directly in front of him
before speaking again. "Name?" he asked.
    "Jack Montana," Jack said, pulling out the fake ID he'd put
together aboard the Essenay . "From Carrier," he added, holding
it out.
    Lieutenant Basht made no move to take the card. "What was the
commotion about?"
    Jack swallowed. "I thought I heard a noise in there," he said. "I
just looked in, just for a second."
    "He didn't just look in," the guard insisted. "He had his hand
inside the door—"
    Basht silenced him with a glance. "You always investigate noises
in places you have no business being?" he asked.
    "It's my uncle," Jack explained hesitantly. "He told me once about
a merc group that liked to hide soldiers in their recruitment centers.
They'd pop out suddenly and start shooting."
    A murmur of reaction went through the teens behind him. Basht's
face didn't even twitch. "No reputable mercenary organization would
ever do a thing like that," he said in a precise voice. "We don't waste
people for no good reason."
    "They figured anyone who was fast enough to duck had what they
were looking for," Jack said, making his voice tremble a little. "The
rest weren't worth the effort to train."
    For a long moment Basht stared up at him in silence. Jack dropped
into what Uncle Virgil used to call "little-boy mode": making eye
contact with the man, cringing and letting his gaze drop away, then
forcing himself to look at him again. It was supposed to make Jack look
all innocent and scared, and to hopefully squeeze a little pity out of
the opposition.
    Problem was, he wasn't