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 Visual Communication Icon |
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it has shrugged shoulders.- All right, - it Grieg has hopelessly given up as a bad job, and at the very same time,
Iks-command inside has slowly got under way and, all being accelerated, it was rolled in
Starting corridor. The roar of engines became intolerable.
- Good luck! - has stirred lips of Tjuramaz, without having heard the own
Voices.
After five minutes completely dressed in fighting field investigators
Sat in front of information screens in the command centre.
The chapter the thirteenth. The end of July 1999
it has pushed the Feast an elbow.
Which the portrait of my grandmother in the mayoralty of Townsville hung!
Everything have laughed, except the Feast.
- Excuse, Nik, - has told the Feast silently. - Something to me is nasty...
it has lowered a hand to the Feast on a shoulder.
- All in norm, the Feast. All in norm...
To Barcelona there was at most an hour to summer. For certain even it is less. Therefore
- Torens was drew on the communication screen after fifteen
Minutes after start.
- Greetings, eagles! How state of health? - It has greeted.
- The feast it, - has informed Dorigo. - I Am possible for it of spirit of ladies?
Eyebrows it Torensa have spread on a forehead.
- Spirit? Whether from it you were such brave on the last
Missions, and Adam?
- So I to you also have told, - Dorigo has snapped.
The feast has lifted a glass sight at Dorigo.
- Give, - he has asked. - really...
it some seconds remained motionless, have then pulled out from
Breast pocket the small flat flask was screwed together also by a cap.
- Keep, the old man...
The feast has taken a sip, feeling as the fiery tornado has singed a throat, and on a body
Calming heat has spread. In a mouth has at once dried up, but have cleared up
Thoughts.
- it-it! it yours!
It has returned the reduced by half flask to Adam.
- Hey, the Feast! - has behind half-risen over Tolik Voronin armchair. - On,
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