"Энди Макнаб. Удаленный контроль (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора "She didn't do things my way."
Nobody did. He was the sort of guy who folded his socks instead of putting them inside each other, and stacked his coins in their denominations. Since his divorce he'd become Mr. I'm-going-to-have-the-best-of-everything. People even started to call him Mr. Ikea-you name it, track lights, entertainment center, the whole nine yards. The inside of his house was like a showroom. I could tell Euan was watching the two players pick up their gear and walk away from the bar. I took my time; no need to get right up their ass. Euan would tell me when to move. "Do a one-eighty," he said. "Look to the right, just approaching the newsstand." I casually got to my feet. It had been great to see him. Maybe this job would turn out to be a waste of time, but at least I'd seen my closest friend. We shook hands, and I walked away. Then I turned, looked ninety degrees to the right, and spotted them, suit bags over their arms. The departures lounge looked like an Irish craft fair. I was starting to feel out of place; I should have gotten myself a Guinness hat. What was I going to do once I got to D.C.? I didn't know if somebody was going to pick them up, whether they were taking a cab or the bus, or, if they'd managed to get a hotel, whether transport was included. If they started moving around the city, that would be fun, too. I knew Washington a bit but not in any great detail. a paper from the seat. McGear started scrabbling about for change in his pocket as they talked to each other, standing at the bar. He was suddenly looking purposeful; he was either going to go to the slot machines or the telephone. He got a note out and leaned over to the bartender; I could see him asking for change. I was sitting more or less directly behind them and about twenty feet back, so even if they turned their heads forty-five degrees to either side, I still wouldn't be in even their peripheral vision. McGear walked toward the slot machines but continued on past. It must be the telephone. I got up and wandered over to the newsstand, pretending to check the spinning rack of newspapers outside. He picked up the phone, put a couple of pound coins in, and dialed. He got the number from a piece of paper, so it wasn't one that was well known to him. I looked at my G Shock; it was 4:16 p.m. The display was still on dual time; if there were any Iraqis in the lounge needing to know the time in Baghdad, I was their man. I checked my pockets for coins; I had about two and a half quid; I would need more for what I was going to do, so I went in and bought a newspaper with a twenty-pound note. McGear finished his call and went back to the bar. Those boys weren't going anywhere; they ordered more beer, opened their papers, lit another cigarette. I gave it a couple of minutes, then strolled over to the phone McGear |
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