"Rob Grant - Colony" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Rob)

A thought strikes Eddie, and he voices it. 'Who's Mr Bevadino?'
The two men make eye contact over Eddie's horizontal body.
'Ahmed Bevadino? Ring any bells?'
Even though he knows the name means nothing to him, Eddie genuinely tries to
remember. He makes a real effort. That's Eddie for you. He doesn't want these men
angry with him. He shakes his head. 'IтАж sorry. No. Don't think I recall a Mr
Bevadino.'
'You don't?'
'Sorry.' And then, feeling this isn't enough, Eddie adds: 'I know a Mr Beverley.'
What is he thinking of? Is he hoping they'll shrug, say 'That'll do', and launch him
out of the window anyway? Bevadino? Beverley? That's close enough? Get a grip,
Eddie.
The bald man with the holstered gun lowers Eddie's legs. 'You'd better not be
wasting my time.'
Or what? Eddie thinks. But he doesn't say it.
Baldy walks to the door, which is prone. He looks down, then looks over at his
colleague. 'This is 888.'
The man with an arm lock on Eddie says: 'You sure? It looked like 886.'
'Yeah. There's a little nick out of the last 8.'
'A little nick?'
'Yeah. Tiny chip in the number. Makes it look like a 6.'
Redhead releases Eddie and steps back to what Eddie thinks is probably perfect
karate kick distance. Eddie hopes he never gets to find out. 'What's your name,
pilgrim?'
Baldy takes some folded sheets of paper out of his back pocket.
'My name?' Eddie's mind is galloping now. Should he give them his real name?
What if these men also work for the people Eddie's angered, as well as Mr
Bevadino? What if his name's down on their list, only later on? Maybe next, even.
They could be working their way along the corridor. They said it was a busy night,
didn't they? On the other hand, what if Eddie's not on the list, gives them a false
name, and it turns out to be the name of someone who is on the list? Perhaps even
the name of the wretched unfortunate they thought they were about to defenestrate.
For Eddie, that's not far fetched, it's a real possibility. Eddie believes he really might
be that unlucky.
'Edward.' Eddie hopes that might be enough. It isn't.
Red reaches into Eddie's pocket and tugs out a pathetically slim wallet, with an
unnecessary 'Excuse me.' He flips through the maxed-out credit cards and finds
some ID. 'Edward O'Hare?'
 Eddie nods.
'Like in the airport?'
Eddie nods. He's about to launch into his well-polished story about O'Hare
airport, but decides, just in time, that this isn't a terrific platform. Out of the corner
of his eye, he tries not to notice Baldy thumbing through his lists for Eddie's name.
Lots of sheets of paper. Lots of limbs to twist, digits to break and bodies to hurl.
The pavements are going to get plenty messy tonight.
'You're not Harrison Dopple?' Red's comparing Eddie with the photograph on the
ID. It's probably a very old picture. The only photo identification in Eddie's wallet is
his sexual activity clearance card. It expired about a decade ago.
Eddie tries as hard as he can not to look anything like anything any Harrison
Dopple might possibly look like. Hard to pull off, given he's never even heard of the