Читать книгу Silent Arsenal - Don Pendleton - Страница 2

But watching them die through the wonders of supertechnology was somewhat spooky, Brognola felt. Dead was dead, but this was something else entirely—real time, real flesh-and-blood dying as little more than a lit speck, an eerie video game.

There was still plenty of red-orange jumping all over the screens and lots of bad guys in play. Visual relay was shaky at best as the Phoenix Force warriors advanced, swung this way and that, ducked fire, blazed away in long raking bursts, left to right or vice versa.

Brognola watched as the tactical team relayed warnings and positions of bogeys. Encizo and Manning were monitored by Wethers, Kurtzman taking Hawkins and James, with Tokaido watching McCarter, the lone fighter out.

It was quite the grim and, yes, Brognola admitted to himself, ghoulish show.