"Hawke, Simon - The Wizard of Camelot 1 - The Wizard of Camelot" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

can best illustrate with an example, one that stands out in my mind as vividly
as if it had happened only yesterday, for it was the proverbial straw that
finally broke the camel's back.

We were called upon to suppress a sniper. The term "suppress' ' was a euphemism
for killing the poor bastard, because with the high level of violence in the
streets, there was neither the time nor the manpower to engage in the luxury of
negotiation, even if hostages were being held, which was quite often the case.
Possession of firearms of any sort was strictly illegal, of course, but it was a
law that had become completely unenforceable. The demand for firearms had become
so great among the general populace that a thriving black market existed to
supply them and no sooner would we shut down one basement machine-shop operation
than a dozen others would spring up. If a citizen were apprehended using a
firearm in a situation that was clearly self-defense, the usual procedure was
simply to confiscate the weapon and let the poor devil go and seek to buy
himself another at a ludicrously inflated price. However; a sniper was something
else again.

By the time we arrived on the scene, a large number of shots had already been
fired. Fortunately, no one had been killed or injured yet, which seemed only a
matter of either dumb luck or lousy marksmanship. In fact, it turned out to be
superior marksmanship, something of which I have no doubt, for the fire that was
subsequently directed at us came uncomfortably close, but avoided hitting
anyone. No one can come so consistently close while still avoiding a direct hit
without being a very good shot, indeed. However, when we first arrived, we did
not know that, nor would it have made a difference if we had. Our orders for
suppression were specific.

The streets in the vicinity were empty Everyone had prudently fled the scene the
moment the sniper opened up, but we followed procedure and cordoned off the
area, as well as making announcements over the bullhorn that everyone should
stay inside and avoid coming near the windows. As per procedure, the sniper was
given one chance and one chance only to give up his weapon and surrender, and
when his answer came in a burst of automatic fire, we proceeded to deploy for
suppression.

It was an old and all too well-practiced drill. The sniper had stationed himself
in a front fiat on the fourth floor of a building in a residential section of
the East Side. We stationed marksmen on the rooftops of the opposing buildings,
and on the ground as well, taking cover behind our vehicles. Our main concern
was to make certain no innocent lives were lost, but situations of this sort had
become so commonplace that the building's residents had all evacuated the
premises within moments after the sniper opened up, exiting at the rear of the
building through the basement corridors without incident. After checking to make
certain none of the flats in the immediate vicinity of the sniper were still
occupied, we proceeded with the drill to take him out.

We moved cautiously, but quickly. Within moments, we had a squad inside the
building. My partner and I were with that squad. My partner, Sergeant Royceton,
was a hard-nosed veteran with twenty years experience on the force. A tough old