"Van Lustbader, Eric - Linnear 01 - The Ninja" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Lustbader Eric)

crow far off over the massed treetops.
Abruptly, colour gilded the leaves of the ancient spreading sycamore as lights
went on inside the house, but he was already away from the car, deep within the
concealing shadows of the carefully sculptured hedge. There was little need of
this protection now for he was dressed all in matt black: low boots, cotton
trousers, long-sleeved shirt, lacquered reed waistcoat, gloves and a hooded mask
that covered all his face save a strip across his eyes that had been smeared
with lampblack mixed with a fine charcoal powder to eliminate the possibility of
reflection; but his arduous training had been too well ingrained for him to take
any target for granted. This precluded the possibility of an error in judgement
that could lead to a lapse in security.
The porch light came on, insects fluttering around it. The noise of the car's
alarm was too loud for him to be able to hear the door opening but he counted
off the seconds in his mind and got it dead on ...
Barry Braughm stepped into the lemon light of the open doorway. He was in jeans
and a white T-shirt. His open fly attested to the haste in which he had dressed.
He carried a flashlight in his right hand.

From this vantage point on the slight elevation of the doorstep he played the
narrow beam around the area of the car. Reflected light from the chrome lanced
out into the night and, squinting, he swung the beam away. At this moment he was
in no mood to go and fool around with his car - or anything else for that
matter.
Not more than half an hour ago he had had a screaming row with Andy, ending up,
quite naturally, with him speeding off into the night. Back to the city, Barry
supposed. Well, it damn well served him right, cutting off his nose to spite his
face. But that was Andy, through and through.
Honest to God, Barry thought angrily, I don't know why I put up with him. And
then he shook his head. Yes, you do, he told himself. Well.
He went down the short flight of flagstone steps, careful to give the first one
a miss. It was cracked; just one of the things around here Andy had promised to
fix this week.
He padded across the wet grass of the lawn to where the car stood, dark and
hulking. The wind whistled through the young maple to his left and, farther on,
he could just make out the low barrier of the thick hedge. What the hell am I
doing with a Mercedes? he asked himself rhetorically. If it had not been for
Andy - but Andy loved the creature comforts, wouldn't go anywhere unless it was
via first class. That, of course, includes me, Barry thought grumpily. He looked
off down the road for a moment as if he might catch a glimpse of Andy's
night-black Audi swinging its headlights around the long curve to flood his
front lawn. Barry turned abruptly away. Not tonight, he thought. He never
recovers this quickly.
He threw the beam of the flash across the top of the hedge as he moved, along
the gravel drive to send a quick dazzle of liquid light off the car's bonnet. It
grew in intensity as he came up beside the Mercedes.
Goddamned heat, he thought. Always setting off the alarm. And I do not want to
sleep alone tonight. Should have thought of that before you called Andy a shit.
He paused for a last look around, then bent and freed the latch, lifting the
bonnet. He gazed into the interior, playing the beam over the engine parts,
lingering for just a moment on the battery.