"Дон Пендлтон. Blood Sport ("Палач" #46) " - читать интересную книгу автора

"I heard what that soldier was saying to you." Tanya climbed into the
front seat, her thigh brushing against Bolan's shoulder. Once seated, she
turned to face him with an intense expression of controlled anxiety. "It is
never wise for me to come here, you understand that," she said.
Bolan shrugged. "Suit yourself, lady. I can take you out again right
now, same way we came in. But this is where I keep my goodies stored and I
ain't risking sneaking them all out of here on your maybe. If you want to
buy them sight unseen, that's okay by me, too. But make up your mind."
Tanya's face twitched angrily. Bolan was out of the jeep before she
could say anything. "This way," he whispered, motioning with his head. She
stayed close to him in commando formation, creeping forward or flattening
herself against a wall at the instant that he did. She was good, he
realized, maybe too good to make this next part work. He shook the thought
from his mind and continued forward. It had to work.
Everything depended on it.
"It's huge," she said at last, looking up at the massive metal building
at the back of the army compound.
"It used to be an airplane hangar," Bolan told her, whispering in the
darkness as she marvelled at the shadowy form that they approached. "But it
was converted into a storage building about five years ago. I have my own
private little corner in there that no one else even knows about. Come on."
They jogged quickly across the paved street, Bolan in military uniform,
Tanya in black jeans and sweater, then they crept toward the armed guard who
stood semialert in front of the entrance. As the guard saw them he swung his
rifle and took aim.
"Relax, Bendix, it's me."
"Sarge?"
"Who else?" Bolan looked around. "I heard the guards had been doubled,
where's your shadow?"
Bendix pointed with his rifle. "Leadline's over there someplace taking
a leak. Jeez, Sarge, I don't know, when Cottonwood offered a cut of this
action, I had no idea what I was getting myself into."
Bolan took a step toward him, his Beretta gripped firmly at his side.
"Now you know, wise guy. Any problems?"
Bendix swallowed hard and shook his head. "No problems, Sarge. None at
all."
Bolan smiled menacingly at the stranger.
"I'm sure Cottonwood filled you in on the whole operation, right?"
"No, sir. He just told me I was to let you in."
Bolan lifted the Beretta and tapped the soldier on the chest. "Good.
That was the right answer, son. You don't need to know anything more. Now
let's get moving."
"Right, Sarge." PFC Bendix unlocked the small metal door inset into the
main hangar doors and let Bolan and Tanya enter. He closed and locked the
door behind them.
"Over here," Bolan said, aiming a small pocket flashlight, leading the
way down huge aisles of stacked goods.
"My God," Tanya whispered, "this building must have everything. The
things we could do with such equipment."
They came to a dark corner piled high with hundred-pound bags of what