"Maloney, Mack - Wingman 05 - The Twisted Cross UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maloney Mack)

"Then, something-I think it was an RPG -hit our

building. Blew the side right off it. Killed three Filipino fellows, the poor bastards. Me and the others didn't hang around to cry. We just lit out into the jungle.

"I'm an old man and still I've never run that fast in my life . . ."

Chapter 4

The bottle of Hong Kong brandy was gone by the time Pegg had nearly finished his tale.

Jones had told Hunter that Pegg, being an old salt and all, might be prone to exaggeration. Yet the pilot knew that despite the story's fantastic flourishes, there had to be a kernel of truth underneath.

"I haven't got to the good part yet!" Pegg said, relighting his pipe for the umpteenth time.

Hunter shifted around in his .chair and said: "So tell me. What happened next?"

Pegg gave out a hoot, then a long, raspy cough. "I crawled through that jungle all night," he said. "I saw lots of soldiers running around. These guys in black, plus other guys in green jungle camouflage outfits. Choppers everywhere. They were shooting at each other and here I am, a man my age, clambering around in the bushes in the middle of them.

"Morning came and I had made my way a good piece down the side of the waterway. I could see the east side locks and of course, they had these blondhaired goons crawling all over them.

"I spent the whole day just watching them. They had a bunch of skin-divers working for them and it seemed like they were planting things in the middle of the channel . . ."

"Things?" Hunter asked. "What kind of things?"

Pegg shrugged. "Long silver tubes," he said, closing his eyes in an effort to remember. "Flashing lights on them.

You should have seen the contraption they was carrying them in. It looked like a big gray box on a piece of toast. They had it fitted out like an egg crate. And they handled each one of those tubes just like it was eggs. Real careful like . . ."

Hunter ran his hand through his hair, trying to make some sense of the story. "So how'd you finally get back, Captain?"

Pegg began to say something, when suddenly a shot rang out . . .

Hunter was down on the floor in less than a second, dragging the old man down off his chair with him. The shot had come through the flat's single window, smashing the thick glass and catching Pegg square in the jaw.

Hunter raised his M-16 and shot out the room's only light. Then he lifted Pegg up on his knee.

"Goddamn it ... the dirty bastards must have finally caught up with me . . ." the old man managed to say, despite his wound.

Just then another shot came through the window. Then another. And another.

Hunter dragged Peg's limp body into a far corner, then he quickly crawled over to the broken window. Through the haze of neon lights and fog, he saw two figures moving in the shadows across the alley.

Not wanting to shoot any innocents, Hunter nevertheless unleashed a long burst from his M-16 on to the wall directly across from the window and just above the two skulking figures. As always, his trademark tracer rounds produced a frightening iridescent stream of fire and lead. Instantly, the two shadows started to run.

Hunter moved back to Pegg and quickly checked his pulse. Finding one, though weak, he burst out of the flat and lit out after the two fleeing figures.

The snipers had made two mistakes: First they had assumed that Pegg was alone when they took a shot at him through the window. Second, they had chosen to run down further into Thunder Alley instead of retreating back out to Orleans Avenue.

What they didn't know was the alley was a dead end.