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When Xris could breathe again and was relatively certain that his body parts--real and mechanical--had all returned to their respective locations, he unstrapped himself with a shaking hand.
"Everyone make it?" he asked.
Tycho, his hand over his mouth, was on his way to the head.
Xris returned to the cockpit. Harry, mopping his face, looked a bit green around the gills, but appeared otherwise fine.
Rowan was reclining back in her seat. She was pale; her eyes were closed. Her brown hair was damp with sweat and starting to curl around her face. But she was smiling, obviously extraordinarily pleased with herself. Xris stood over her.
"You're no level-two government clerk. The Navy doesn't make clerks majors. The Navy doesn't threaten to shoot clerks rather than let them fall into enemy hands. And the Navy sure as hell doesn't take the time and trouble to plant homing devices on clerks to find out where they're going. Just what the hell do you do for RFComSec, 'old friend'?"
Rowan looked gravely up at Xris, and told him.
CHAPTER 22
He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.
William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act 1, Scene 5
"Chief crypto analyst." Tusk stumbled over the words, then said, "What the hell does that mean, sir?"
"It means we're in a bad situation. Potentially, a very bad one." Dixter was back at his desk in his office
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