"Энди Макнаб. Кризис четвертого (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

The voices got closer and closer and I could hear the sound of flip
flops slapping against feet. Two boys rounded the corner wearing sandals,
arm in arm, both smoking and still shouting about something, maybe what
Grant Mitchell was up to in the Queen Vie.
Two of the Regs climbed aboard them, and almost at once I heard a
distinctive buzz and crackle. The boys were getting Tazered good style, at
the same time as being dragged out of sight toward us. Tazers are cattle
prods for humans. As the two electrodes touch a body, you press a button and
100,000 volts zap through the target. They are a great weapon as you can
hold the victim at the same time as you fuck them up big time, without
getting zapped by the current yourself.
As the blokes got them down on the floor, I could hear them moaning and
groaning under the hands that covered their mouths. They were still being
dealt with as Glen put on his NVGs. We did the same.
Glen looked back at Sarah to check we were ready. Following his cue, we
moved toward the corner with Sarah still between us. It was now one of those
situations that couldn't be stopped. We just had to get on with it.
The fuck-it factor had taken over.
We piled in through the door. A Reg secured the entry point and waited
for the other two to join him, dragging the two dazed Syrians. The corridor
was dark and silent. In a loud whisper Glen said, "With me, with me, with
me." We moved like men possessed down the breeze-block passage, the world
through our NVGs looking like a light-green negative film.
We turned right, and through the windows to our left I could see the
outside of the building; on the other side there were plywood internal doors
leading, I guessed, to rooms or offices. The smell of cigarettes, cooking,
coffee and the sweat of not too much air conditioning was almost
overpowering.
We came to a T-junction. Glen stopped on the left, Sarah right up
behind him. I came up level, on the right. I wasn't too sure which way we
were heading. Glen would tell me. I looked over and he was moving hisIR
flashlight beam, attached to his weapon, to the right.
I cleared the corner, moved forward three or four meters and stood my
ground, waiting. I knew Glen would be clearing the other way. I saw his
weapon'sIR splash against the walls as he turned toward me, then they both
passed on my left. Sarah still had her pistol bolstered and was keeping
close to Glen. The floor was tiled or concrete, it was hard to tell which.
All I knew was that there was an echo of footsteps and squeaking rubber
as we moved.
Glen stopped and pointed at a door. He took his weapon out of the
shoulder, put his back against the wall to the left and reached for the door
handle. I moved to the opposite side, weapon still up in the shoulder, ready
to make entry. He nodded; I took off my safety and nodded back.
He turned the handle and I moved inside, pushing the door with me.
I was blinded. The NVGs were totally whited out. It was as if someone
had let off a flare in front of my face.
Glen shouted, "The fucking lights are back on!"
I fell on my knees and ripped off the NVGs, blinking hard as I tried to
get back some normal vision. I made out movement in the right-hand corner
and rolled to the left, trying to make myself a harder target. As my eyes