"Jack Womack - Ambient 06 - Going, Going, Gone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Womack Jack)

told myself IтАЩd kicked back too long in the tub last night and
was still pruny. But I wasnтАЩt kidding anyone, the luck of genes
makes my system flush like a storm drain. Possible, though, that
this new product was time-release. That could bring any num-
ber of complications about on down the line. Might mean all
kinds of trouble uptown as well but the Dupont Circle boys
could find out on their own without a park ranger. Even now
their slammerful of potential perps were probably tearing the
roof off the drunk tank, ripping out the porcelain, shitting on
the ceiling, standing there franks in hand and howling for the
bastards to turn the northern lights back on.
┬╗WhatтАЩs so funny, Walter?┬л I heard Bennett say.
┬╗Is he having a stroke?┬л Hamilton said.
┬╗Just weighing the odds against the house,┬л I testified, com-
ing out of my stew, laying both hands near but not on the Big
Book. ┬╗Pardon the trance.┬л
┬╗No question youтАЩre the man for the job,┬л Martin said, and
then demonstrated the folly of total self-assurance. ┬╗YouтАЩre Irish
as they are, why wouldnтАЩt it work?┬л
Fortean ghosts were hard enough to bear but this took first
prize in the Stupid awards. Something must have short-
circuited in MartinтАЩs head, or else he was feeling more comfy
around these characters than he had any right to be. He was no
more tater tot than I was, and he knew that as well as I did. Now
neither of us played the rules according to Hoyle, and while no
VIP players who might suspect ever admitted seeing us deal
with our spades hidden, we knew they always kept their guns on
the table. CouldnтАЩt speak for my boss but I had no yen to scope
scenic Guatemala and the deeper south unless I had a return
ticket tight in my hand. It especially made me sweat buckets
when his idle comment provoked Frye into burping up some-
thing other than chucks.
┬╗Black Irish, maybe.┬л
Bad, bad news. No question his superior snagged it, but old
Methuselah didnтАЩt return fire. MartinтАЩs mask slipped enough to
show me he knew heтАЩd been bugging too frantic on the canyonтАЩs
lip. ┬╗If you would hear us out, Mister Smith, youтАЩd understand
what a valuable opportunity this could prove to be for you,┬л
Hamilton said, steepling his hands as if to pray to himself.
┬╗Carpe diem. A new world hitherto unimaginable to you will
either open or close, depending upon your decision. May I
continue?┬л
His picnic basket was starting to sit heavy on my grave. ┬╗Pass
the mustard,┬л I said.
┬╗What?┬л
┬╗Need to spread it on those fat slabs of spamola youтАЩre slicing
off.┬л
┬╗Now, Mister Smith тАУ┬л
┬╗IтАЩm passing. Thanks anyway.┬л Easing myself up slowly, I
aimed a finger at the timepiece hanging on the wall. ┬╗Got to