Книга только для ознакомления
. "Open it."
Kohli shook her head.
"Is the money really worth your life?" Jamil demanded, his voice hard, gruff. "What about his?" He tumed the gun on the comatose technician.
"But--but ... there is no money." Kohli extended her hands in a pleading gesture. "You have to believe mel We only k-keep cash on payroll day and this isn't--"
"What?... Damn!" Jamil blustered. "Raoul really screwed this up good. He said this was payroll day!"
The woman just stared helplessly at him.
Jamil waved the gun. "Then if there's no cash, you won't mind opening the safe, will you? Or would you rather see me open up your tech's head?"
Kohli gulped, mumbled, "No, please. Don't hurt--"
"Move!"
She moved, opened the safe with her hand print and a coded entry.
Jamil shoved her roughly to one side. Peering in, he swore loudly. "My God! You're telling the truth. Nothing but plastic." He snatched up the spaceplane's code cards. "Let's see how much you have in your accounts." He thrust the card into the computer.
"But those aren't credit cards. They only operate--"
"Operate what?" Jamil demanded, though he knew perfectly well.
The woman bit her lip, shut her mouth.
Muttering to himself, pretending to be frustrated over his inability to discover a bank account, Jamil was, in actuality, swiftly altering the code on the cards. This done, he removed them from the computer, slid them into his pocket
|
