Project "Eye" p.11
Photo: AV Photography
References to the previous parts and appeal to those who see the Oka publications for the first time:
In part number 8 :
The woman looked into his eyes, although she had always hid her eyes and shuddered at the touch. Fear was still read in her eyes, but now mixed with gratitude. Oliver patted her on the shoulder, trying to look as friendlier as possible.
- Everything is normal, we will not touch you, we have enough other concerns, - he tried to joke, - what is your name?
She pulled the rest of the shirt up, looked at Oliver again, as if deciding whether to talk to him.
“Melissa, sir.” But you can just call me Melly, ”she said softly and smiled timidly ...
“Melissa, then,” Oliver replied, “Good.” You have a light wound, now I'll tie it up and you can go, ”he looked at the woman carefully,“ and how did you manage to end up here, Melly? ”
“I live nearby, sir,” she replied, “caught my eye before the sunset.” At first they said that they needed a guide to cut the way, and then ... - her voice trembled, - well, you understand.
- Yes, I understand, - Oliver nodded in response, - sit here, I will be back soon.
He went downstairs, where his comrades examined the supplies of the dead and chose their backpacks. Matt removed the batteries from the armor of one of the soldiers, apparently to replace his own, if they have less charge, Joe laid out the food in three hiking bags.
“With this equipment we won’t be distinguished from the soldiers of the capital’s garrison,” the assistant brigadier joked, sorting and shifting supplies, “what is there?” We heard you talking to someone.
“Yes, he did,” Oliver replied, “there is a woman, about thirty years old, wounded in the leg.”
He quietly approached Matt, removed from his belt the second and last EMI-grenade.
- Something I'm hungry. Make a fire, nobody will notice, ”he told the commander.
Matt nodded in response, picked up the carbine, signaled Jo to follow him and quietly walked out the door. “Make a fire, no one will notice” - an old joke that only he and Oliver can understand. Once, because of this very fire, they had to run for almost a day in a race with a detachment of soldiers. Since then, this phrase has become to mean between them only one thing - it is necessary to bring down.
Oliver inhaled deeply, took out a pistol, pressed the button, and, more conveniently intercepting the EMI-grenade, moved to the second floor.
Melissa was still sitting in the room where he had left her. Stepping inside, Oliver threw the silver cylinder of the grenade under her feet. After a moment, the lantern that lay in the corner and lit the room the whole time blinked and went out. The room was plunged into darkness. Oliver, in a few steps, covered the distance that separated him and the woman, and aimed the gun at her face.
“Thirty seconds to explain,” he said quickly.
Melissa looked at the muzzle of the gun aimed at her, at the silver body of the EMI-grenade, and only then at Oliver.
“Twenty-five seconds.”
The woman yawned lazily and sighed heavily, began to rise to her feet. Oliver took a step back.
“Oliver Steele, you really are as smart as they are talking about you,” Melissa drawled, “will you kill me?”
The man stopped for a moment, amazed at the arrogance of the woman, and then answered:
“I’m more interested in why you didn't kill us.”
Melissa tried to stretch, but grimaced at the pain in her leg.
- As you understood?
- The wound is burned, shot at close range. In front. If she ran away, the inlet would be at the back.
- Damn, did not think.
She took a few steps towards Oliver and rested her forehead on the barrel of the gun, looking the man in the eye from bottom to top:
- You can shoot, if you're an idiot, I still will not live long. But better think about it and take the gun away.
The timer in Oliver’s head counted down the last seconds until the woman’s Oka module, which had been cut down after the grenade overload had been turned on, had to be turned on before the woman. He must decide: listen to a strangely behaving enemy or knock her brains out.
He pulled the cock and lowered the gun. Melissa just smiled.
- You really smart. Just a second, - she briefly closed her eyes, and then again turned to the Steel General, - Your friends are not so far away and gone, this is good, I cannot go fast now.
She squeezed past Oliver and lifted her pants, which lay at the door behind him. Pulling on her clothes and wincing at the pain, Melissa continued:
- The attempt was good, but the module is shielded and protected from such influences, know for the future.
Oliver was taken aback.
“Then why was I sure that I could shoot?”
- Because you could.
“And you were not afraid that I would just simply throw a war grenade through the window into the room?”
- I was afraid.
- So why?
“Because we have to be friends, Steel General.”
“Don't call me that,” Oliver asked automatically, “a strange motivation, I want to notice.”
“I am strangely odd,” Melissa fastened the trouser belt and began to wear a shirt, “I shoot myself, I look for acquaintance with the resistance commanders, I let a whole troop of soldiers go to the expense. The femme fatale, ”she smiled at Oliver, and then asked,“ how did you understand that I was an operator? ”
Oliver rubbed the tips of his temples. The gun rested unpleasantly in the head, but now the man did not even notice.
“Melissa is your real name?”
- You can say so.
“I see,” said Oliver, “there are a lot of inconsistencies, Melissa.” You as a ninja kill Johnny. Follow our trail, although we did not notice anyone, and then arrange firing and leave a green recruit on guard. Too stupid. Plus, rape is the main mistake, everything became clear as soon as I saw the soldier inside.
- What? “Melissa didn't understand what he was talking about.”
- Almost everyone who was in the room was on army steroids. They quickly go bald, like those in the room below. And while you sit on this rubbish, the farm refuses, not to women, in general.
“You are very observant, Oliver Steele.”
- Thank.
“But you still came here,” Melissa said. Very reckless of you.
- I had thoughts that it was a trap, but if I know where the opponent is, why not come?
- This is not a trap, Oliver.
- And what about?
- Demonstration of good intentions.
- By the way, about good intentions. I was impressed with you, but Joe will slaughter you, as you ordered to slaughter a guy.
Melissa finished dressing. Now, a woman of medium height stood in front of Oliver. There was no trace of the frightened lamb's mask on her face. Sharp chin, high cheekbones, focused, attentive gaze experienced fighter. Melissa radiated waves of strength and confidence, which seemed to be no-no and it would be possible to feel physically. The straight posture of the woman spoke of a strong, independent nature — the other would not be able to get along in the army. Melissa picked up a rag from the floor that covered herself when Oliver entered the room for the first time, and tore off the flap - to collect the hair in the tail.
- We had no choice. The guy noticed us, and we were too close to the capital for me to open up. I had to improvise, - she replied, - understand, the Steel General, or one guy, or all of you, all four. And you two, you and Commander Matthew cannot die. Absolutely not.
- Then I suggest you lie to him something.
- Good.
- Okay, let's go down.
Melissa, completely unafraid of Oliver, turned and left the room, and the man walked over to the window and waved his hand invitingly. He knew that Matt and Joe were somewhere nearby and were watching the house, waiting for the signal.
The meeting below was intense. Matt was the first to enter the house. In the wrong light of the lanterns illuminating the main room, the resistance commander nearly shot Melissa - it seemed to him that the woman was armed. Noticing this, Oliver grabbed his carbine and lowered the barrel into the ground.
“Easy, Matt,” he said to an old friend, “I don’t fully understand what is going on here, but if it was her will, we would have been dead for a long time.” So we should sit down and listen to what this woman tells us.
Melissa did not even budge, still equipping herself with a fourth backpack. Joe, who entered, did not grab the weapon, but took a position in the aisle to the kitchen if something unexpected happened and their new acquaintance decided to dash through the back door: he didn’t know that Oliver was boarded up and climbed through the window.
Melissa glanced around the room, snickered under her breath, and continued to dig in her backpack. Not finding the desired, she silently stood up and began to gut a traveling bag of one of the dead. She fished out a briquette of self-heating ration and a flask, she opened the package, poured water over it, and waited until the food was ready. Men still stood and watched her actions.
- As I understand it, you need a story from me who I am and why is it here? - Melissa asked, - well, sit down, there is no truth in the legs. There will be a story for you.
Oliver and Matt looked at each other and followed the advice of the woman. Oliver sat down near the exit of the room, and Matt was at the top of the stairs. Both kept their weapons with them, but the resistance commander, unlike his friend, put the carbine on his knees. He did not yet know that Melissa would not let them use them if he had such a desire.
The woman, meanwhile, rummaged in her bag and got a folding spoon, shoved the corpse of one of the fighters away from herself and settled herself against the opposite wall, under the window, so that she could see everyone at once. Matt was right in front of her, on the stairs, standing next to Joe in the doorway, and Oliver was sitting to her right, at the entrance to the corridor. Looking around again, Melissa ate a couple of tablespoons of tasteless, but hot and nutritious food, similar in texture to oatmeal, with a certain regret turned away from food and noticed:
“Sorry, I haven’t eaten too long.” I also recommend that you figure out something or chew some chocolate, we have time.
“Don't pull,” Oliver slowly began to lose patience, “tell me.”
“Hush, hush, a thunderstorm of carts with women and children,” Melissa pricked him. “Okay. Sorry. So here. I'm here by order.
Matt tensed slightly, his hand moved to the carbine's hilt, but Oliver stopped him with a flick of his right hand.
“What other order?”
- Deliver you to the capital, of course.
Oliver did not understand anything.
- Deliver to the capital? And why did you then let us kill your entire squad?
- Gave? “Melissa laughed, oh, Oliver Steele, you are my father, and naive as a child!” Gave to kill! Oliver, I actually interrupted him for you!
Melissa's words made Steele think hard.
- Wait, that is all this firing, this sentry ...
- Yes. I controlled all of them while sitting in the room upstairs.
“So, stop,” Matt intervened in the conversation, “in the sense of control?” Gave the order to kill yourself? Or what?
The woman looked at the old commander with an ironic smile:
- Not really. Commander Matthew, I am the first one you met, and probably the only member of the Eye project who does not wish you death.
“The Eye project is that ...” began Matt.
“Yes, that same project of the Eye,” Melissa interrupted him, “and for God's sake, do not grab hold of a weapon.”
Melissa had not yet finished, and the old commander had already put his finger on the trigger and was preparing to give a long queue at the opposite end of the room.
“Matt, I think that if we are still alive, she will not kill us, too much fussing,” said Oliver, “and it seems to me, she hears everything we think, judging by what you showed me in the ghetto. Is that right, Melissa? - he asked.
“I’m surprised by your glimpses of insight, Oliver Steele.”
“I try,” he answered, “OK, you said that you must take us to the capital and, apparently, not as prisoners.” Why so?
Melissa at this time again leaned on the already ration, but after Oliver asked her, she had to reluctantly interrupt the meal.
“Because you need them there, a big mess is brewing.”
“We actually had other plans,” Oliver said.
“Yeah,” Melissa at that time sent the last spoonful of porridge mass rations into her mouth and now scraped off the packaging walls, “I am aware. To the north, to the new camp, yes, gentlemen? And this man at the door, ”she nodded at Joe,“ your volunteer guide.
The men looked at each other. Even for a telepath, Melissa was too knowledgeable.
“No, I’m not strong enough to delve into your memories,” she said, catching two questioning glances at herself, “in any case, delve without harming you.” Everything is much more trivial, gentlemen, - she rose from her seat and, grimacing, stretched herself, - the army has long arms. Right now, these long hands should already finish stripping the said camp. Total sweep. And the army has seductive conditions for informers and defectors. Yes john
Joe started, looked at Matt and Oliver staring at him, and then went on the offensive:
- What do you mean by that ?! What are you hinting at?!
Melissa smiled. “What a positive woman,” thought Oliver, with a bit of sarcasm.
- I do not hint, John. I am stating a fact - she took a few more steps towards the man who stood in the doorway - who, if not the right hand of the big man Tommy, could put spies on the two main persons of resistance? Who, if not you could merge the army information about where Oliver and Matt are going? I had to make a lot of effort so that your route knows as few people as possible, John. Detailed route, very detailed. With the alleged halts and possible points for ambushes - the woman still sitting on the floor imperceptibly penetrated the man's mind, ready to paralyze the traitor so that he would not run away or arrange a firing - so who could it be, Hoarse Joe?
Oliver could not believe his ears. Either this person was playing a double game, or she and Matt seriously got into a mess and fate sent it to them.
“Not destiny, but almost,” answered Oliver Melissa, “Commander,” she now turned to Matt, “please find that big fellow in the belt with a navigator, please.”
Matt listened carefully, got up from his seat, while not letting go of the carbine and went to the body of the fighter, whom Oliver killed with a blow at the very beginning of their improvised assault on the house.
- Right on the belt, can not go wrong.
Matt, trying not to step into the pool of blood next to the body, removed from the belt of the soldier the plate of the device Melissa was talking about.
- So what? This shit has not been working for many years, the satellites have been lost, there are only maps on it, ”he said to Melissa, holding the navigator in his hands.
- But communication towers around the capital remained. Part restored, part built. It is configured on a single, specific transmitter, look carefully at the route indicated there.
Matt turned on the device screen and in a few touches caused the story. What he saw struck him - all their movements were accurately reflected on it, the places of halts where they had spent more than ten minutes glowed with bold blue dots. Having enlarged the image and putting old, still pre-war maps in the settings of the terrain, he saw that the point showing the tracked object was in the building. In the house where they were all now.
Matt handed the navigator to Oliver, who also rose to his feet, while Melissa stood still and looked at Joe's face, watching drops of nervous sweat slowly appear on his forehead.
“I don’t believe you,” said Oliver, we couldn’t have a transmitter, we left all the things in the place where you killed Johnny.
“Not everyone,” Melissa replied without turning around. Yes, the transmitter is too big to wear under armor. But there is something else, yes, John? “Melissa came up close to him, playfully pouting her lips,” something that you tried to keep as close as possible to your fellow travelers by any means. What you gave Oliver with you, so that he would never disappear from sight while you were separated - she paralyzed Joe's body and led her finger across his chest, down to his stomach, and from there to his side, until she felt the handle of the blood , which Oliver returned to him just ten minutes ago.
Slowly, without sudden movements, the woman took a blade from the sheath and twisted it in her hands.
“Mmmm, the hilt is handmade, right, John?” The big handle, - Oliver and Matt, standing nearby, watched what was happening, and they gradually got to know what Melissa was leading, - John, do you mind if I check if there is a hiding place in the handle? - the woman continued, pushing the edge of the top of the handle with her fingernail.
Having spent literally a couple of seconds, Melissa took off the lid, peered inside and, grinning with satisfaction, took the blade by the blade and, without looking, handed it over to Oliver over her shoulder.
- Admire, Steel General.
A beacon power LED blinked inside the blade handle.
Oliver showed the contents of the cache to Matt, silently exchanged glances with him and, not letting the knife out of his hands, turned to the woman:
- As I understand, you keep it?
- From the moment I got up from my seat.
- Get away.
- As you wish, Steel General.
Oliver grabbed the blade and came close to Joe. Thin, he was a little taller than Oliver, but now the last one was looking down from above. The man breathed heavily, looked into the eyes of the conductor and said:
“You know how punishment in wartime is punished, Joe.”
He did not answer him. Chained with mental shackles that Melissa had hung on him, he could only sweat and look from Oliver to Matt.
Without saying anything more, the Steel General touched Joe’s armor control panel, cutting it off. After Oliver put his right hand on his shoulder, and slowly with his left, he put the blade into the traitor’s belly, while looking into his eyes.
The blade of Bladou, slightly dulled after the killing of the soldiers, with some effort went into a thin body by two-thirds. Oliver, watching the horror in the eyes of Hoolie Joe, slightly turned the blade clockwise and jerked to the side, tearing to pieces the internal organs and the side of the traitor.
Blood spurted from a monstrous wound, flooding everything around.
“Show him how he died,” Oliver told Melissa in a commanding tone.
The woman, stricken by brutal violence, followed the instructions and tilted Joe's head so that he could see what Oliver did to him.
Soon it was all over. The traitor reeled from the loss of blood and fell dead.
Oliver, right after the blade was pulled out, turned away and did not look at Joe anymore. , , .
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â„–12
Source: https://habr.com/ru/post/368099/
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