"Дон Пендлтон. Caribbean Kill ("Палач" #10) " - читать интересную книгу автора

away his boys' guns and give 'em fire hoses.
Guys were laying around, burned and blasted; some dead, some almost.
None of Tony's boys, though. So these boys down here at Glass Bay had been
living it soft. Tony felt sorry for them, sure, the ones that got in the
way. In the meanwhile, Quick Tony's guts did not feel right about Mack
Bolan. And until they did...
He snared his chief gunner, Charlie Dragone, as the big triggerman
ambled past. "Where the hell you going, Charlie?" he asked him.
"To piss on Bolan's ashes," the crewchief replied, grinning,
"I ain't seen no ashes yet," Lavagni reported.
The grin left the big guy's face. He clasped his arms over his chest
and watched two of the Glass Bay homeguard as they struggled up from the
pier with a fire hose, then he turned back to his boss to ask, "Nor?"
"No is right."
Dragone's eyes traveled the white sand beach behind him for a moment,
then the gaze rested briefly on the scene of confusion at the burning house.
"You think maybe he wasn't in that plane?" he asked woodenly.
"My gut thinks maybe that," Lavagni told him.
"Who was it, then?"
"Well find out in a minute. Here comes Grimaldi."
A group of men were rapidly approaching from the pier, two of them
fully clothed and soaking wet Jack Grimaldi, the pilot, recognized Lavagni
immediately and threw him a tired salute. "Hell, I'm sorry, Mr. Lavagni," he
called out, sending the apology ahead of the confrontation.
"You should be," Quick Tony replied calmly. Then he grinned and added,
"Or I guess not. You're a lucky shit, buddy."
"Don't I know it," the pilot replied. He and Lemke had pulled to a halt
and were standing rather disconsolately in the presence of the Caporegime .
The other men had gone on to help with the disaster operations.
Dragone's eyes flashed to the house as he said, "How about it,
Grimaldi. Is that Bolan or isn't it?"
The pilot was studying the crewchief's face, trying to place it in his
memory. His gaze slid on to Lavagni as he responded to the question. "It
sure wasn't sweet old Aunt Martha," he growled.
"It was him, all right," Lemke put in excitedly. "Cold as ice. Death
eyes. I'll tell you, I've never seen..."
Lavagni's heavy tones overrode the testament to Bolan's deadliness. "I
suppose you lost your shipment," he said, eyeing the accountant with
displeasure.
The guy's eyes fell and he replied, "He made me leave it on the plane."
Lavagni gave Charlie Dragone a deadpan stare and told him, "So go piss
on the ashes of a quarter million bucks, Charlie."
The triggerman sighed and scuffed his feet about in the sand. "Did we
get the guy or didn't we?" he quietly asked.
Lavagni was staring at the pilot.
Grimaldi said, "What..."
Lavagni said, "You heard the question."
"Tony has a gut feeling," Dragone explained. "He thinks maybe the plane
flew itself into that house."
The comment was given as very light sarcasm. Grimaldi, however, replied