Veteran Read Online Free PDF

stairs, I decided that the Mastodon would have the best psychological impact on the ranger and ballistic impact on the Ninja. According to the park service personnel files I’d received, the ranger was one Morton Rayment. He lived in the apartment with his girlfriend Joy Sverdlof. Thermographics told me that there were two human-sized heat sources in there. It seemed unlikely that either of the heat sources was the Ninja. This did not mean that the Ninja wasn’t in the apartment, just that I couldn’t see it. Though both Rayment and Sverdlof still seemed to be alive, which was promising.
    Moving quietly along the walkway I made it up to their apartment and palmed my very illegal lock burner. Boosting my hearing, I stopped to listen, amplifying the muffled voices through the paper-thin walls and filtering them until I could understand their conversation.
    .. what if the authorities trace it to me?’ This was the male voice, local but well educated, presumably Rayment.
    ‘Bit late for that now, should’ve thought about that before you loaded it up.’ This was presumably Sverdlof, probably second generation but you could still hear traces of her eastern European accent. ‘Look at all this money, just think what we can do.’
    ‘How? It’s all black, we can’t declare it.’ Rayment said. His voice was becoming a panicky whine. I was wondering how this guy had had the balls to load a potentially dangerous alien life form into the back of his pickup. I wasn’t sure I’d have the balls. I’d have been more likely to turn it into a puddle. I slipped the lock burner into the apartment’s card slot.
    ‘There are lots of things you can do with black money - you can get stuff you can’t get with real money,’ The woman said. I slipped into their apartment. It was a tiny box. They were stood over their mock-pine table in the dining/living/kitchen area. On the table were piles of dirty paper cash. Rayment, still wearing his ranger’s uniform, was stood looking nervously at the piles. Next to him, greed lighting her eyes, was Sverdlof. Neither of them had heard me enter though they were standing opposite the door. This was good. This meant I wasn’t completely useless.
    Rayment looked up as I said,’Isn’t that the truth?’ and lost control of his bladder as he found himself looking down the barrel of the huge revolver. His hand not going anywhere near the automatic holstered at his side.
    Sverdlof was made of sterner stuff. She made a dive for the apartment’s personal defence weapon in its rack on the wall. My left fist caught her on the chin, picking her up off her feet and sending her flying onto the small two-seater sofa, which broke under her weight. She sat up glaring at me, looking feral and angry. Clearly I had pointed the gun at the wrong person. I brought the Mastodon to bear on her.
    ‘This,’ I said, nodding at the revolver, ‘is more than capable of shooting through walls, and I can see through them, do you understand?’ The girl nodded, Rayment just shook a bit. I moved into their small bedroom and as soon as I was out of sight the girl began to move towards the PDW. I poked my head back out of the bedroom. The girl froze.
    ‘Do I have to shoot you? For fuck’s sake, darling, sit down,’ I told her. She just glared at me.
    ‘Do as he says!’ Rayment pleaded. Sverdlof gave him a look of contempt before sitting down. Clearly she was poorer than him and the money meant more to her. I searched every place that they could hide one of Them. It was not in the apartment. I had assumed as much when I’d seen the cash but I had to check.
    I came out of their tiny bathroom, having ensured it wasn’t in there showering. I headed back into the living area just as the apartment’s rapid response unit turned up. In this case the rapid response unit was a fat guy called Larry with a pump-action shotgun.
    ‘I have already given you my clearance, now go away,’ I said. Larry looked me up and down, sizing