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

or not. He sat for a while and looked disturbed; I didn't know what to think
but took it as a good sign, without really knowing why.
Eventually, after putting the StarT ac away, he looked at the driver.
"Kennington."
I knew where Kennington was, but didn't know what it meant to them. Not
that it really mattered: I just felt a surge of relief about the change of
plan.
Whatever had been going to happen to me had been postponed.
At length Sundance muttered, "If you're fucking with me, things will
get hurtful."
I nodded into the rear-view mirror as he gave me the thousand-metre
stare. There was no need for further conversation as we drove back up the
Old Kent Road. I was going to save all that for later, for the Yes Man.
Leaning against the window to rest my arms and ease the tension of the
handcuffs on my wrists, I gazed like a child at the world passing by, the
glass steaming around my face.
Somebody turned on the radio and the soothing sound of violins filled
the Merc.
It struck me as strange; I wouldn't have expected these boys to be into
classical music any more than I was.
I knew the area we were driving through like the back of my hand. As a
ten-year old I had played there while bunking school. In those days the
place was one big mass of minging council estates, dodgy secondhand-car
dealers and old men in pubs drinking bottles of light ale. But now it looked
as if every available square metre was being gentrified. The place was
crawling with luxury developments and 911 Caireras, and all the pubs had
been converted into wine bars. I wondered where all the old men went now to
keep out of the cold.
We were approaching Elephant and Castle again. The music finished and a
female voice came on with an update on the incident that had shaken London.
There were unconfirmed reports, she said, that three people had been killed
in a gun battle with police, and that the bomb blast in Whitehall had
produced between ten and sixteen minor casualties, who were being treated in
hospital. Tony Blair had expressed his absolute outrage from his villa in
Italy, and the emergency services were on full alert as further explosions
could not be ruled out. No one as yet had claimed responsibility for the
blast.
We rounded the Elephant and Castle and headed towards Kennington,
pulling over as two police vans sirened their way past.
Sundance turned to me and shook his head in mock disapproval.
Tut-tut-rut. See you you're a menace to society, you are."
As the news finished and the music returned I continued to look out of
the window. I was a menace to myself, not society. Why couldn't I steer
clear of shit for a change, instead of heading straight for it like a
light-drunk moth?
We passed Kennington tube station, then took a right into a quiet
residential street. The street name had been ripped from its post and the
wooden backing was covered in graffiti. We turned again and the driver had
to brake as he came across six or seven kids in the middle of the road,
kicking a ball against the gable end of a turn-of-the-century terrace. They