Rough Justice Read Online Free Page A

just come in behind you would like to demonstrate what he can do.”
    Blake put a quick burst into the ceiling, which certainly got everybody’s attention, and called in Russian, “Drop your weapons!”
    There was a moment’s hesitation, and he fired into the ceiling again. All of them, including the sergeant at the bar, raised their hands. It was Zorin who did the unexpected, dragging the girl across his lap in front of him, drawing his pistol, and pushing it into her side.
    “Drop your weapon or she dies.”
    Without hesitation, Miller shot him twice in the side of the skull, sending him backward over the chair. There was total silence, the Muslims getting to their feet. Everyone waited. He spoke to the sergeant in Russian.
    “You take the body with you, put it in the Storm Cruiser, and wait for us with your men. See they do it, Blake.” He turned to the Muslims. “Who speaks English?”
    A man moved forward and the girl turned to him. “I am the mayor, sir, I speak good English. This is my youngest daughter. Allah’s blessing on you. My name is Yusuf Birka.”
    The Russians were moving out, supervised by Blake, two of them carrying Zorin’s body, followed by the sergeant.
    Miller said to Birka, “Keep the weapons. They may be of use to you in the future.”
    Birka turned and spoke to the others, and Miller went outside. Blake was standing at the rear of the Storm Cruiser, supervising the Russians loading Zorin’s body and the wounded man. There was an ammunition box on the ground.
    “Semtex and timer pencils. I suppose that would be for the mosque,” Blake said.
    The soldiers all scrambled in and the sergeant waited, looking bewildered. “If these people had their way, they’d shoot the lot of you,” Miller told him.
    To his surprise, the sergeant replied in reasonable English. “I must warn you. The death of Captain Zorin won’t sit well with my superiors. He was young and foolish, but well connected in Moscow.”
    “I can’t help that, but I have a suggestion for your commanding officer when you get back. Tell him from me that since you shouldn’t have been here in the first place, we’ll treat the whole incident as if it didn’t happen. Now get moving.”
    “As you say.” The sergeant looked unhappy, but climbed up behind the wheel and drove the Storm Cruiser away, to the cheers of the villagers.
    People milled around in the street, staring curiously. Some of the men arrived now, but they kept their distance as Miller and Blake talked with the mayor, who said, “How can we thank you?”
    “By taking my advice. Keep quiet about this. If they come again, you have arms. I don’t think they will, though. It’s better for them to pretend it never happened, and better if you do, too. I won’t report any of this to the Protection Corps.”
    The mayor said, “I will be guided by you. Will you break bread with us?”
    Miller smiled. “No, my friend, because we aren’t here. We never were.” He turned to Blake. “Let’s get going. I’ll drive this time.”
    As they moved away, Blake said, “Do you think the villagers will do as you say?”
    “I don’t see why not. It’s entirely to their advantage, and I don’t think it’s worth us mentioning it to the Corps because of, shall we say, the peculiar circumstances of the matter.”
    “I’ve no problem with that,” Blake said. “But I’ll have to report back to the President.”
    “I agree. I’ll do the same with the PM. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been informed of this sort of thing. Meanwhile, you’ve got your laptop there, and the information pack you were given by the Protection Corps people includes Russian military field service codes for the area. See what they have on Captain Igor Zorin and the Fifteenth Siberian Storm Guards.”
    Blake opened his laptop on his knees, got to work, and found it in a matter of minutes. “Here it is,” he said. “Forward Field Center, Lazlo, Bulgaria. Igor Zorin, twenty-five,