"Clancy, Tom - Jack Ryan 02 - Patriot Games" - читать интересную книгу автора (Clancy Tom)

Quantico. Same thing with the machine-gunner. At Quantico we were exposed
to East Bloc weapons. I've handled the AK-47. The sound it makes is
different from our stuff, and that's a useful thing to know in combat. How
come they didn't both have AKs?"
"As near as we can determine," Owens said, "the man you wounded
disabled the car with a rifle-launched antitank grenade. Forensic evidence
points to this. His rifle, therefore, was probably one of the new AK-74s,
the small-caliber one, fitted to launch grenades. Evidently he didn't have
time to remove the grenade-launcher assembly and decided to press on with
his pistol. He had a stick grenade also, you know." Jack didn't know about
the rifle grenade, but the type of hand grenade he'd seen suddenly leaped
out of his memory.
"The antitank kind?" Ryan asked.
"You know about that, do you?" Ashley responded.
"I used to be a Marine, remember? Called the RKG-something, isn't it?
Supposed to be able to punch a hole in a light armored vehicle or rip up a
truck pretty good." Where the hell did they get those little rascals --
and why didn't they use them . . .? You're missing something. Jack.
"Then what?" Owens asked.
"First thing, I got my wife and kid down on the deck. The traffic
stopped pretty quick. I kept my head up to see what was happening."
"Why?" Taylor inquired.
"I don't know," Ryan said slowly. "Training, maybe. I wanted to see
what the hell was going on -- call it stupid curiosity. I saw the one guy
hosing down the Rolls and the other one hustling around the back, like he
was trying to bag anyone who tried to jump out of the car. I saw that if I
moved to my left I could get closer. I was screened by the stopped cars.
All of a sudden I was within fifty feet or so. The AK gunner was screened
behind the Rolls, and the pistolero had his back to me. I saw that I had a
chance, and I guess I took it."
"Why?" It was Owens this time, very quiet.
"Good question. I don't know, I really don't." Ryan was silent for
half a minute. "It made me mad. Everyone I've met over here so far has
been pretty nice, and all of a sudden I see these two cocksuckers
committing murder right the hell in front of me."
"Did you guess who they were?" Taylor asked.
"Doesn't take much imagination, does it? That pissed me off, too. I
guess that's it -- anger. Maybe that's what motivates people in combat,"
Ryan mused. "I'll have to think about that. Anyway, like I said, I saw the
chance and I took it.
"It was easy -- I was very lucky." Owens' eyebrows went up at that
understatement. "The guy with the pistol was dumb. He should have checked
his back. Instead he just kept looking at his kill zone -- very dumb. You
always 'check-six.' I blindsided him." Ryan grinned. "My coach would have
been proud -- I really stuck him good. But I guess I ought to have had my
pads on, 'cause the doc says I broke something up here when I hit him. He
went down pretty hard. I got his gun and shot him -- you want to know why
I did that, right?"
"Yes," Owens replied.
"I didn't want him to get up."