He hesitated, panting for breath, and looked at the massive things. The ones that the dragon had burned had been replaced by gates even more forbidding. From behind them came the sound of bolts sliding back.
This was no time for half measures. He was a captain, godsdammit. An officer. Things like this didn't present a problem for an officer. Officers had a tried and tested way of solving problems like this. It was called a sergeant.
'Sergeant Colon!' he snapped, his mind still buzzing with universal policemanhood, 'shoot the lock off!'
The sergeant hesitated. 'What, sir? With a bow and arrow, sir?'
'I mean…' Vimes hesitated. 'I mean, open these gates!'
'Sir!' Colon saluted. He glared at the gates for a moment. 'Right!' he barked. 'Lance- constable Carrot, one stepa forwarda, take! Lance-constable Carrot, inna youra owna timer! Open these gatesa!'
'Yes, sir!'
Carrot stepped forward, saluted, folded an enormous hand into a fist and rapped gently on the woodwork.
'Open up,' he said, 'in the name of the Law!'
There was some whispering on the other side of the gates, and eventually a small hatch halfway up the door slid open a fraction and a voice said, 'Why?'
Вы читаете Guards! Guards!
