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

"Was that rifle loaded?" Ryan asked.
"If it was," Ashley replied, "why didn't he shoot?"
"A crowded street isn't the best place to use a high-powered rifle,
even if you're sure of your target," Ryan answered. "It was loaded, wasn't
it?"
"We cannot discuss security matters," Owens said.
I knew it was loaded, Ryan told himself. "Where the hell did he come
from, anyway? The Palace is a good ways off."
"Clarence House -- the white building adjoining St. James's Palace.
The terrorists picked a bad time -- or perhaps a bad place -- for their
attack. There is a guard post at the southwest corner of the building. The
guard changes every two hours. When the attack took place, the change was
just under way. That meant that four soldiers were there at the time, not
just one. The police on duty at the Palace heard the explosion and
automatic fire. The Sergeant in charge ran to the gate to see what was
going on and yelled for a guardsman to follow."
"He's the one who sounded the alarm, right? That's how the rest of
them arrived so fast?"
"Charlie Winston," Owens said. "The Rolls has an electronic attack
alarm -- you don't need to tell anyone that. That alerted headquarters.
Sergeant Price acted entirely on his own initiative. Unfortunately for
him, the guardsman was a hurdler -- the lad runs track and field -- and
vaulted the barriers there. Price tried to do it also, but he fell down
and broke his nose. He had a devil of a time catching up, plus sending out
his own alarm on his portable radio."
"Well, I'm glad he caught up when he did. That trooper scared the hell
out of me. I hope your Sergeant gets a pat on the head, too."
"The Queen's Police Medal for starters, and the thanks of Her
Majesty," Ashley said. "One thing that has confused us. Doctor Ryan. You
left the military with a physical disability, yet you evidenced none of
this yesterday."
"You know that after I left the Corps, I went into the brokerage
business. I made something of a name for myself, and Cathy's father came
down to talk to me. That's when I met Cathy. I passed on the invitation to
move to New York, but Cathy and I hit it right off. One thing led to
another, and pretty soon we were engaged. I wore a back brace then,
because every so often my back would go bad on me. Well, it happened again
right after we got engaged, and Cathy took me into Johns Hopkins to have
one of her teachers check me out. One was Stanley Rabinowisz, professor of
neurosurgery there. He ran me through three days of tests and said he
could fix me good as new.
"It turned out that the docs at Bethesda had goofed my myelogram. No
reflection on them, they were sharp young docs, but Stan's about the best
there is. Good as his word, too. He opened me up that Friday, and two
months later I was almost as good as new," Ryan said. "Anyway, that's the
story of Ryan's back. I just happened to fall in love with a pretty girl
who was studying to be a surgeon."
"Your wife is certainly a most versatile and competent woman," Owens
agreed.
"And you found her pushy," Ryan observed.