Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 64
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The enemy scout gasped when he saw through the lenses of his night-vision goggles. He positively identified the subject as Dorian Gray.
“Better have a look at this, sir,” he said to the aide-de-camp to the squad’s captain.
The captain looked over the officer’s shoulder at the horizon and recognized the face—it was indeed the man they all feared.
“I’d say he has a lot of nerve coming here like this,” the captain said.
The aide-de –camp frowned. “I don’t like it. The man is a menace.”
The captain cocked his rifle. “Then let’s do something about it.”
Henry nodded, fixing the target in his mind. A second burst of weapons fire came. The instant it stopped, he was moving, the barrel of the gun coming up, his finger tightening on the trigger as he stepped forward again.
“Time to go, Dor,” Henry said, replacing the magazine. But he didn’t hear any reply. “Dor?” Henry called again. He turned his head to see Dorian charging at their assailants. “Crazy bastard.”
Dorian broke from the shadows, sprinting after the two men in black, raising his gun and sighting down the barrel even as he ran, nothing that something about one of the attackers.
DORIAN GRAY
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