"Brookmyre, Christopher - Bampot Central" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brookmyre Christopher)

"Fuck it," Jyzer said, getting to his feet. "You watch him Tommy."

Jyzer walked over to the locked door and pointed his shotgun at the metal handle.

"No don't do that!" Parlabane shouted, too late.

Jyzer pulled his trigger and blasted the handle, then reeled away from the still-locked door, bent double and groaning.

"AAAAYAAA FUCKIN' BASTARD!" he screamed, falling to the floor, blood appearing from the dozens of tiny wounds where the pellets had ricocheted off the solid
metal and back into his thighs, hands, wrists, abdomen and groin.

"STAY OOT!" Tommy shouted to the cops behind the door. "STAY OOT. The hostage is awright. Just a wee accident in here. Just everybody keep steady, right?"

"Let's hear the hostage," called the cop. "Let's hear his voice."

Tommy, looking increasingly like the least steady person on Earth, waved the gun at Parlabane and nodded, prompting him to reply.

"I'm here," Parlabane shouted.

"You okay, sir?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"I mean are you hurt?"

"No. But Jyzer here just learned a valuable lesson about the
magic of the movies."

"What?"

"That's enough," Tommy interrupted. scuttling over to check on his writhing companion. "What's the score wi' that helicopter?" he called.

"I think an air ambulance might be more appropriate," Parlabane said.

"Fuckin' shut it," Tommy hissed. It was the only part of Jyzer's role he had been so far able to assimilate.

"It's over, Tommy," Parlabane said quietly. "Your pal's in a bad way, there's polis everywhere, and I'm afraid you're three hundred miles from the nearest
underground postal railway, which is in London."

"It's no'. There's wan here. We've had information."

"Is everybody okay in there?" asked the policeman.

"STAY OOT!" Tommy warned again, his voice starting to tremble. "The situation's no' changed. Stay oot."

Jyzer continued to moan in the corner, convulsed also by the occasional cough.

"There's no such things as Insurance Bonds, Tommy," Parlabane told him.

"Shut it. There is."