United States or Nicaragua ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
If the kid had been an adult, Harry MacDougal would have died there and then. An adult would simply have slashed his vibroblade through the old man's spine and brought it to bear on Mike the Angel. But not the kid. He jumped back, eyes widening, to face his oncoming opponent in an open space. He was no coward, that kid, and he knew how to handle a vibroblade.
One hand was at Harry's back, and Mike knew that the kid was holding a vibroblade at the old man's spine. At the same time, the buzzing against his thumb told Mike the Angel something else. There was a vibroblade much nearer his body than the one in the kid's hand. That meant that there was another young punk behind him. All this took Mike the Angel about one quarter of a second to assimilate.
A year from now, it might be shock guns, but right now you're chicken if you carry anything but a vibroblade." Cowder dropped the shield generator into his coat pocket. "Thanks again, Mr. Gabriel. We'll do you a favor sometime." The firm of M. R. GABRIEL, POWER DESIGN was not a giant corporation, but it did pretty well for a one-man show.
His hand had gone into a pocket, and now he was leaping up and across the table, a singing vibroblade in his hand. "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!" Mike the Angel wasn't wearing the little gadget that had saved his life in Old Harry's shop. All he had were his hands and his agility. He slammed at the ensign's wrist and missed. The boy was swooping underneath Mike's guard.
Word Of The Day