Book 3: 3rd World Products, Inc Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the morning, London time, and parked in the street outside the CW office. When I stepped off the flitter, the early morning chill of late-February London reached me quickly despite my field jacket and boots.

Chapter Four
    Ignoring the gawkers on the sidewalk, I left Tiger and Elkor aboard Stephie and went inside, where a cute—but rather skinny—secretary invited me to a seat near her desk. When I asked about Andrew, she informed me that Andrew had been retired for a few years and that his daughter was now running the office.
    When a sharp-looking blonde who looked vaguely familiar came out of the office a few minutes later, I stood up and said, “Hello, Krista. Do you remember me?"
    She froze and looked at me hard for a moment, then stepped back to just within the office doorway and took a picture from the wall by her door. Stepping back into the lobby, she compared me to the picture before putting it back on the wall.
    "Yes,” she said, in a clipped, formal British accent. “You seem to have aged fairly well. The last time we met I was about eight, I think. You were the ... mercenary ... who accompanied my father home from Angola, weren't you?"
    I nodded. “I was a mercenary medic, and you seemed a lot happier to see me back then. You certainly grew up well, ma'am. How's your dad these days?"
    She hadn't moved from the doorway, and by the secretary's nervous glances, I could tell that this wasn't the way Krista usually greeted her visitors.
    "Some of the old wounds still bother him,” said Krista, “But he's otherwise healthy enough. At the risk of sounding uncivil ... Why are you here after all these years?"
    "A ladyfriend of mine needs your kind of help, Krista."
    After a moment, Krista leaned against the doorframe and asked, “A ladyfriend, hum? Is this ladyfriend in trouble with the police anywhere? Or is she a mercenary, too? Could that be why she needs a passport? Her country disowned her?"
    I laughed. “No, it's nothing like that. She's not even two years old yet."
    The secretary chuckled and said, “The terrible twos and frenzied fours are the worst years before they reach fifteen, and then the real trouble starts. I know; I have two girls of my own."
    I smiled at the secretary's humor, but Krista didn't loosen up at all, other than to straighten and express a slight concern as she asked why I hadn't brought the child in with me.
    "Ah, well,” I said, “Maybe we should talk a little about ‘the child’ before I bring her in here. Could we step into your office for a chat?"
    Krista stepped forward and again gave me a hard gaze.
    In a firm, flat tone, she said, “You are—or were—a mercenary who just happened to be on the same side as my father in Angola, and that was too many years ago, sir. Meaning no disrespect, I have no idea what you may be today, and I'd rather not be alone in the room with you for the moment."
    I met her gaze and saw that this woman had a spine that was probably every bit as tough as her father's. I hoped that she'd have his heart, as well, as I called Steph to join us.
    "We may as well get past the introductions. Stephie, could you please pop in right about now?"
    Steph's tall, almost-Ingrid Bergman holoimage materialized somewhat to my right and said, “Hello, Krista. I'm Stephanie Montgomery. Ed told me that your offices might be able to help me."
    Krista backed a step and then another, until she was just inside her office. The secretary opened a desk drawer and had a small automatic pistol pointed in Stephie's and my general direction almost instantly.
    "Krista?” asked the secretary.
    Krista, staring at Stephie, didn't answer immediately, which prompted the secretary to ask again.
    "Krista? What should I do?"
    To head off Krista's response, I used my implant to send a narrow field to nudge the stapler on the secretary's desk. When the secretary glanced at it in startlement, I used the same field to quickly tug the gun up and out of her grasp, suspending it near the