Net Force - Tom Clancy [1]
It was great living here in the future, a mere decade after the turn of the century. If 2010 had such wonders, what might it look like in another twenty or thirty years? He was looking forward to finding out, and with advances in medicine, he could pretty much expect to do so.
The virgils speaker said, Hi, Steve.
Hi, Marilyn. Whats up?
Nothing much. We got done early. I was just wondering if you might want a late supper.
He grinned at the virgil. He didnt have his camera on, so she couldnt see the smile. I just left Umbertos, he said. I think Ill pass on eating for the next couple of weeks.
She laughed. I understand. You coming home?
On the way.
He had a condo in the city, but most nights he tried to get across the river and to the house. The kids were grown, but Marilyn and the dog still liked to see him now and again.
He tapped the virgil and re-clipped it to his belt, which needed a little attention. He loosened the buckle a couple of holes and slid the Galco paddle holster with his SIG.40 around toward the front a little so it wouldnt dig into his right hip. He could have carried one of the new-model wireless KTs-kick-tasers-that were supposed to be better than a gun, but he didnt really trust them. Yes, he was a political appointee for the current job, but hed been in the field a long time to earn the spot. He trusted his old-fashioned pistol.
Moving the gun helped. While he was at it, he undid the Velcro on his Kevlar vests side panels and re-tabbed them a little looser, too.
Next to him, Boyle fought to keep his grin under control.
Day shook his head. Easy for you to laugh. Youre what-thirty? Still bulking up at the gym three or four times a week, right? Us fat old desk jockeys dont have time to stay in shape.
Not that he was that much out of shape. Five-eight, maybe 190? He could drop a few pounds, but hey, he was fifty-two last June and he was entitled to carry a little extra baggage. Hed earned it.
They were on the narrow street behind the new projects, the shortcut toward the expressway. It was a dark and dreary part of town, with streetlights broken out and dead, stripped cars lining the road. Another of the instant slums, going down fast even before the original paint had dried. In his opinion, the current welfare philosophy needed major work; of course, it always had. Though things were getting better, the future still had a way to go to pick up all of its passengers. There were streets in D.C. he wouldnt walk alone after dark; gun, vest, and virgil notwithstanding. An armored limo made him feel a little more secure-
There came a terrific bang, a flash that strobed the limos interior a sudden bright orange. The car rocked up on the drivers side, hung for what seemed like forever on two wheels, then fell back and hit the street hard.
What the hell?
Boyle already had his pistol out as the limo fishtailed, slewed and slammed into a streetlight post. The post was fiberglass. It snapped off at bumper level and fell on the limo, spraying shattered glass in a tinkly rain upon the cars trunk.
Day saw a bulky man in black run toward the car from out of the sticky night. The man wore a watch cap pulled low but not covering his face. He had blond hair, a scar running through his right eyebrow. He was smiling.
Day thought he caught a flash of movement at the rear of the limo, but when he looked, he didnt see anything.
Go! Boyle yelled. Go, go!
The driver tried. The engine roared, the wheels screeched, but the car didnt move. The stench of burning rubber filled the car.
Day thumbed the emergency scramble button on the virgil, and was already