"John E. Stith - All for Naught" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stith John E)

a sweet-smelling spray in the face rendered him unconscious.
The two men manhandled him to a waiting midnight-blue van
and dumped him inside. The tattooed man started the engine and
made a U-turn.
The van's tires screeched as it lurched forward and sped
away, narrowly missing a kid on a bike, and forcing the kid into
a fence.
The red-haired man took a time card from a slot over the sun
visor and looked at his digital watch before he filled in the
next entry.
***
Nick Naught pulled onto the street. As he passed the next
intersection, he saw down the side street a scene much like the
one he had been in earlier. A runaway car crashed into a parked
car as pedestrians scattered. Several nearby witnesses started
to help, so Nick continued on his way.
Nick put his little finger in the ear that had been closest
to the air bag explosion, and he wiggled the finger. He pulled
the finger out, listened for a moment, and repeated the process.
A police car flashed past, siren on, lights flashing.
Nick turned his attention to the road ahead. "Radio on."
"Whatever you say," the car voice replied. The voice was
feminine and sexy, with just a trace of huskiness.
The radio started playing some classical selection Nick
didn't recognize. He banged his fist on the dash and the station
switched to rock.
***
At a modest house in a different section of the city,
Annette Taylor came out her front door. She was dressed for
work, looking trim, and moving confidently. Today was going to
be a good day. She had an appointment with her boss at the
agency about the possibility of taking on a large, valued client.
In the front yard stood a very large tree. On Annette's
side of the tree was a rolled up morning newspaper. On the other
side of the tree were the two musclemen and the end of a string
tied to the newspaper.
Annette spotted the paper. "Go get it, boy!" she called,
and her collie raced out the front door and grabbed the
newspaper. The string drew tight. The dog growled through
clenched teeth. It knew this game. The dog shook its head from
side to side and lowered its hindquarters, pedaling backward.
The tug of war lasted only seconds before the string broke, and
the dog rushed triumphantly inside with the paper, happy about
the battle it had won, and not too curious about who had been
defeated. Annette closed the door and started for her car.
One of the men pointed to the van. "Quick!"
The men raced to the van. The tattooed man started it up as
Annette was starting her car. They pulled the van forward
quickly, blocking the driveway, and the engine died.
In her rear-view mirror, Annette saw the two large men