"Энди Макнаб. Удаленный контроль (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

"Delighted to see you again. Nick."
We shook hands and Lynn said, "Would you like some coffee?"
Things were looking up.
"Thanks milk, no sugar."
We all sat down. I took a wooden chair that was on the other side of
the desk and had a quick look around the office while Lynn pressed the
intercom on his desk and passed the order on to the clerk. His office was at
the rear of the building and overlooked the Thames. It was a very plain,
very functional, very impersonal room save for a framed photograph on the
desk of a group I presumed were his wife and two children. There were two
Easter eggs and wrapping paper on the windowsill. Mounted on a wall bracket
in one corner was a television; the screen was scrolling through world news
headlines. Under the TV was the obligatory officers' squash racquet and his
jacket on a coatrack.
Without further formalities Lynn leaned over and said, "We've got a
fastball for you."
I looked at Simmonds.
Lynn continued, "Nick, you're in deep shit over the last job, and
that's just tough. But you can rectify that by going on this one. I'm not
saying it'll help, but at least you're still working. Take it or leave it."
I said, "I'll do it."
He'd known what I was going to say. He was already reaching for a small
stack of files containing photographs and bits of paper. As a margin note on
one of the sheets I could see a scribble in green ink. It could have been
written only by the head of the Firm. Simmonds still hadn't said a word.
Lynn handed me a photograph.
"Who are they?"
"Michael Kerr and Morgan McGear. They're on their way to Shannon as we
speak, then flying to Heathrow for a flight to Washington. They've booked a
return flight with Virgin, and they're running on forged Southern Irish
passports. I want you to take them from Shannon to Heathrow and then on to
Washington. See what they're up to and who they're meeting there."
I'd followed players out of the Irish Republic before and could
anticipate a problem. I said, "What happens if they don't follow the plan?
If they're on forged passports, they might go through the motions just to
get through the security check then use their other passports to board
another flight and fuck off to Amsterdam. It wouldn't be the first time."
Simmonds smiled.
"I understand your concern, and it is noted. But they will go."
Lynn passed me a sheet of paper.
"These are the flight de tails. They booked yesterday in Belfast."
There was a knock on the door. Three coffees arrived, one in a mug
showing the Tasmanian Devil, one with a vintage car on it, and a plain white
one. I got the impression Lynn and Simmonds were on their second round.
Simmonds picked up the plain one, Lynn picked up the car, and I was
left with the Tasmanian Devil running up a hill.
"Who's taking them from Belfast to Shannon?"
Simmonds said, "Actually, it's Euan. He has them at the moment. He'll
hand over to you at Shannon."
I smiled to myself at the mention of Euan's name. I was now out of the