"Энди Макнаб. Последний свет (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

Waterloo Station just ten minutes' walk away. They'd be knocking back a
celebratory glass of wine in the Channel tunnel well before the full extent
of what they'd done had dawned on Special Branch and the news networks.


TWO

Once I'd satisfied myself that the only activity in the killing ground
came from harassed catering staff, I got back to watching the three bulbs.
Snipers One and Three should have signed on by now. I was well past
concerned, and not too far short of worried.
I thought about Sniper Two. She would have moved cautiously into the
fire position after clearing her route, employing the same tradecraft as at
the DLB, and probably in a simple disguise. A wig, coat and sunglasses do
more than people think, even if SB racked up hundreds of man hours poring
over footage from hospital security, traffic and urban CCTV cameras.
Having first put on her surgical gloves, she would have made entry to
her Portakabin with the key provided, closed the door, locked up, and shoved
two grey rubber wedges a third of the way down and a third up the frame to
prevent anyone entering, even with a key. Then, before moving anywhere,
she'd have opened the sports bag and begun to put on her work clothes, a set
of light blue, hooded and footed coveralls for paint spraying from B&Q. It
was imperative that she didn't contaminate the area or the weapon and
equipment that were going to be left behind with fibres of her clothing or
other personal sign. Her mouth would now be covered by a protective mask to
prevent leaving even a pinprick of saliva on the weapon as she took aim. I
was pleased with the masks: they'd been on special offer.
The coveralls and gloves were also there to protect clothes and skin.
If she was apprehended immediately after the shoot, residue from the round
that she'd fired would be detectable on her skin and clothes. That's why
suspects' hands are bagged in plastic. I was also wearing surgical gloves,
but just as a normal precaution. I was determined to leave nothing, and
disturb nothing too.
Once she'd got covered up, with just her eyes exposed, she'd be looking
like a forensic scientist at a crime scene. It would then have been time to
prepare the fire position. Unlike me, she needed to be away from the window,
so she'd have dragged the desk about three metres clear. Then she'd have
pinned a net curtain into the plasterboard ceiling, letting it fall in front
of the desk before pinning it tight to the legs.
Next, she'd have pinned up the sheet of opaque black material behind
her, letting it hang to the floor. As with the netting, I had cut it to size
for each fire position after the CTR. The combination of a net curtain in
front and a dark backdrop behind creates the illusion of a room in shadow.
It meant that anyone looking through the window wouldn't see a fat rifle
muzzle being pointed at them by a scarily dressed woman. Both sets of optics
that she'd be using, the binos and the weapon sight, could easily penetrate
the netting, so it wouldn't affect her ability to make the shot.
Some fifteen minutes after arriving, she'd be sitting in the green,
nylon-padded swivel chair behind the desk. Her takedown weapon would be
assembled and supported on the desk by the bipod attached to the forward