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

Three more shots were fired, followed by a short pause, then another
two. Then, from further along the riverbank, I heard the heavy thuds of a
flash bang going off inside a building. They were hitting Number Three's
position.
Adrenaline jolted through my body. It'd be my turn soon.
I slammed the window down. My mind raced. Apart from me, the only
person who knew the exact sniper positions was the Yes Man, because he
needed to position the target well enough for it to be identified. But he
didn't know precisely where I was going to be, because I hadn't known
myself. Technically, I didn't even have to have eyes on target, I just
needed to have com ms with the snipers.
But he knew enough. Messing up the shoot was the least of my worries
now.


FIVE

Helicopters were now rattling overhead and police sirens were going ape
shit in the street as I closed the door gently behind me and moved out into
the wide, brightly lit corridor.
My Timberlands squeaked on the highly polished stone floor as I headed
towards the fire-exit door at the far end, maybe sixty metres away, forcing
myself not to quicken my pace. I had to stay in control. I couldn't afford
to make any more mistakes. There might be a time to run, but it wasn't yet.
There was a turning to the right about twenty metres further down,
which led to the stairwell that would take me to the ground floor. I reached
it, turned and froze. Between me and the stairwell was a wall of
two-metre-high black ballistic shields. Behind them were maybe a dozen
police in full black assault gear, weapon barrels pointing out at me through
the gaps in the shields, blue assault helmets and visors glinting in the
strip-lighting.


"STAND STILL! STAND STILL!"

It was time to run like the wind. I squeaked on my heels and lunged the
couple of paces back into the main corridor, heading for the fire exit, just
willing myself to hit that crossbar to freedom.
As I zeroed in on the exit door, the corridor ahead filled with more
black shields and the noise of boots on stone. They held the line like Roman
centurions. The last couple emerged from the offices on either side, their
weapons pointing at me at far too close a range for my liking.


"STAND STILL! STAND STILL NOW!"

Coming to a halt, I dropped the bag to the floor and put my hands in
the air.
"Not armed!" I yelled. 'I'm weapons free! Weapons free!"
There are times when it's an advantage just to admit to yourself that