Thicker Than Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

at Lucy's troubled face as they drove. It was obvious that Lucy was concerned about Amman, but what could they do? They could ban him from working with the nanites, but who is to say he didn't stow some away for later? No, they would have to let him play around and watch him carefully. Mark's dedication to his family seemed outside common sense. Mark lacked the emotional quotient or imagination, to realize the anger that the people of Iran must have with Americans and their most recent war. Amman must have come here out of desperation or rage., Joe thought, He wasn't here for business, or to satisfy his thirst for adventure. He wasn't like Mark's and his family. Amman is exactly why the Feds started their witch hunt on the public use of nanotech. Allah must not be allowed a perfect bloodless revenge at that scale. I'm taking a risk with a world full of lives, so I can play with yet another robot. I must be really selfish, He felt ashamed. He looked up and noticed the sun was gone, obscured by endless clouds. He was gazing up into the gray sky as the black van pulled through the ten foot fence. The sight of the drab warehouse on the endless blanket of concrete felt good. It signified independence and prestige. Lucy parked the van. With the moist cool air weighing on them, The A-team members started their march toward the main door. A neuron fired in back of Joe's brain. He had seen movement out of the corner of his eye. Joe whipped his head around. "What?" asked Mark. Joe stared at a distant building beyond the fence. "I could swear I saw something move over there." "Probably a tumbleweed. That warehouse is very out of business. Missing a roof, lacking windows." Mark said.
    "Maybe it's somebody having sex!" Lucy joked. "It's still daylight," Joe mumbled. Looking distracted and serious, he turned on his heel and began to run. His team looked on in shock as he launched top speed toward the building. "Damn he's fast," Mark said. He spoke in his jovial Indian accent. He turned to Lucy and shrugged. "I guess he really wants to see live sex." They turned and walked toward the shop door. Joe closed in on the building. He lost sight of his friends as he ran through a parking lot covered in tall weeds. His pace slowed as he approached the far corner of the dilapidated concrete and brick edifice. Peering around the structure, he saw a distant figure in jeans and a dark jacket. He was hustling toward a newish black Lincoln Towncar. He squinted as the large man opened the driver's side door. As the man climbed in the car, his jacket lifted. Joe noticed the man was wearing a holstered gun. He pulled his head back around the corner. His breathing hushed to a whisper. It must be an undercover police car, Joe told himself. He looked around the corner and examined the car. He did not see the extra lights in the back window. I had better get the license plates in case I need them later, he thought. Just then the Towncar started, and it's driver shifted it into gear spinning it's wheels. Joe craned his neck around the corner too late. Dust and smoke from the car's tires obscured the license plate as it sped away. Joe jogged into the shop. After his eyes adjusted to the lower light. Vast clutter and equipment lined the walls. He scanned through piles of hydraulics, circuit boards, and half-finished five foot tall robots for Mark and Lucy. He spotted them at a small desk. They were behind several tall black servers on top of a work bench. Amman was sitting at the computer. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. His large beard stuck out from either side of the back of his head. Hearing footsteps in the quiet room, Mark turned around. "Oh, hey Joe. Feel better? Where they doing it or just kissing?" "Ha-ha. Very funny," Joe said. "It was a guy with a gun getting into a Towncar." Joe's accent was stronger. That sounded different out loud, Joe thought. Mark's face dropped, like he suddenly realized something. "What? Was it a cop? Did he see you?" Amman