Net Force - Tom Clancy [106]
You dont seem too upset that your ride is about to get erased.
The blonde slipped on a natural-colored raw silk blouse, no bra under it, and buttoned it. She noticed the other womans look. He likes to see my nipples, she said. Then she shrugged. Hes a mob guy. Its a risky business. I have a little put away, and I dont figure Ill have much trouble getting another honey. If it was good enough for Genaloni, there will be other mob guys wholl want a taste.
The Selkie grinned. No sentimentality for this girl. She knew what she was and meant to make the most of it. The Selkie kind of liked that about Brigette, her being straight up and no bullshit.
Somebody might blame you.
Why should they? Ill let them wire me with a stressbox and Ill tell them the truth. You stuck a gun in my face-what could I do?
I guess that means youll tell them what I look like, too, right?
There was a moment of hesitation as Brigette scanned that, tried to put some spin on it. Then she said, Yeah, Ill tell them. But thats a disguise, right?
What if they ask if its a disguise?
I can get by that one.
This was getting interesting. Really. How?
Brigette pulled a microskirt up over her long legs, zipped it and tucked the blouse into it. Depends on how you ask the question. If they ask, Do you think Rays killer was wearing a disguise? I can say, No, and itll scan as truth.
Really?
Sure. Because I dont think youre wearing one, I know you are. Ive been around makeup before.
The Selkie grinned. Why would you do that? Cover for me?
You could come back later and delete me if you think I ratted you out.
Her logic was frail, but the Selkie didnt point that out. If Brigette did a good enough job ratting her out, the mob might find and kill Rays assassin, and she wouldnt be around to threaten sweet Brigettes peace of mind.
Could she trust her? Uh-huh. Right. The Selkie had no doubt that her targets mistress would sing an entire opera when asked by those who wanted to hear it.
Brigette found a pair of silk stockings, bunched one into gathers, then slipped it onto her left foot and up her leg. The Selkie watched, intrigued by the womans complete lack of modesty and emotion regarding the upcoming deletion.
Brigette caught the look. She smiled. You like women? I can show you a good time while we wait.
The Selkie shook her head. Thanks. Not while Im working.
Rays girl was a cool one, all right. The Selkie wouldnt want to be dangling over a cliff with sweet Brigette on the other end of the rope-not unless she had a wad of cash in her hand to bribe her to hang on to the lifeline.
Still, Brigette would be helpful. The Walther TPH.22 pistol the Selkie held was kind of a scaled-down version of James Bonds PPK. It was an excellent example of the gunmakers art, the TPH, high-grade stainless steel, small and compact, very accurate. But the tiny.22 round was not a man-stopper out of a pistol unless it hit the central nervous system. A spine or brain shot was necessary for a certain kill. If, as Ray came up the walk, Brigette started screaming, a head shot would be difficult. Not impossible-she could make that shot with this piece out to twenty yards-but by that time, the TPH would be wearing the suppressor, to cut down on the firing noise. The barrel wasnt long enough to let the Stinger ammo achieve supersonic speed, and the suppressor would cut the velocity even more as it absorbed the exhaust gases with the sound. Unless you put the round into an eye, the target might survive. The skull was hard, bullets had been known to glance right off. And hitting an eye with the suppressor blocking the sights, well, that was iffy.
No, with a.22 handgun, you wanted to put the muzzle an inch or two from the back of the targets head, and pump three or four sound-suppressed rounds into the hindbrain while his bodyguards were sitting in their cars unaware. And be long gone before anybody came knocking.
She needed privacy to do this right. Brigette would get Genaloni into the house. Once the door was closed behind him, the Selkie would handle the rest.
Wednesday,