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

I was having doubts, I didn't know why, and tried to get a grip. What
did I care? If it was a straight choice between his life and mine there'd be
no question. What was happening in my head was totally unprofessional, and
totally ridiculous.
I gave myself a good mental slapping. Any more of this shit and I'd end
up hugging trees and doing voluntary work for Oxfam.
The only thing I should be doing was focusing on the box. What was
happening on the terrace shouldn't matter to me any more but I couldn't seem
to stop myself looking at the boy through the binos.
Number Two's bulb came up. She must have found his earlobe to aim at.
Then the boy moved towards the table, breaking through the crowd. He
started to help himself to some food, looking back at his dad to check if he
wanted anything.
All three lights now burned. How could they not?
I watched him pick at the stuff on the silver trays, sniffing one
canape and deciding to give it a miss. I studied his shiny young face as he
wondered what would best complement his half-drunk glass of Coke.
All bulbs were still lit as I looked through the binos. He was exposed,
bunging peanuts down his neck.
Come on! Get on with the fucking thing!
I couldn't believe it. My thumbs just wouldn't move.
In that instant, my plan switched to screwing up the shoot and finding
something to blame it on. I couldn't stop myself.
The snipers wouldn't know who else had a sight picture, and it wasn't
as if we were all going to get together and have a debrief over coffee the
next morning.
I'd take my chances with the Yes Man.
The boy moved back into the crowd, towards his dad. I could just about
make out his shoulder through the crowd.
The three lights went out simultaneously. Then Two's came back on. This
woman wasn't giving up on her target. I guessed she wasn't a mother after
all.
Three seconds later it went out. Wrong or right, now was my time to
act.
I pushed the send press el once with my thumb, keeping my eyes glued on
the boy.
Then I pressed it again, and at the same time hit the detonation
button. The third time, I pushed just on the send press el
The explosion the other side of the Thames was like a massive,
prolonged clap of thunder. I watched the boy and everyone around him react
to the detonation instead of doing what I'd planned for him.
The shock-wave crossed the river and rattled my window. As I listened
to its last rumblings reverberate around the streets of Whitehall, the
screams of the tourists below me took over. I concentrated on the boy as his
father bustled him towards the door.
As panic broke out on the terrace, the photographer was in a frenzy to
get the shots that would pay off his mortgage. Then the Yes Man came into
view and stood beside the PR women, who were helping people back inside. He
had a concerned look on his face, which had nothing to do with the explosion
and everything to do with seeing the target alive and being dragged to