"Энди Макнаб. Немедленная операция (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

Once we came near the estate, we were hidden from view by a row of
three or four shops-houses, basically, but with shop fronts. We turned right
and went along the back of the buildings until we came to the fence line and
the gate. By now the waste ground was more like disused farmland; there were
old wrecked cars on it, tin cans, bags of garbage.
There were goats and horses running around all over the place, so the
ground was gungy and churned up. It was summer, but we still had rain at
least once a week, and the ground was wet. There were large puddles
everywhere.
We got to the fence line, and I got lazy. If I crossed the fence, there
would be all this car wreckage and rubbish in the way, and I didn't want to
negotiate that. So I took the easy route.
As I started to come through the gate, I came into view of the people
in the street. I heard hollering and shouting and screaming all over the
place, which was unusual. Normally there would just have been talking and
lots of laughing, from groups of people smelling of Brut and hair spray, the
girls in sharply ironed blouses.
As I looked up at the crowd, I realized that everybody was shouting,
grabbing hold of kids, pulling them out of the way.
Something was up, but I didn't know what. I started to pan around to
have a look. Still there was chaos; there must have been maybe 120 people
there waiting for the coaches, and they all were reacting to my presence. I
looked directly over the road, and as I then started to an left toward the
shops, crossing the road, p again there was just the normal group of
vehicles-three or four saloon cars and a cattle truck, which was not unusual
in the area.
But then, just as I passed that, I saw a group of characters with masks
on and weapons. The one that I really latched on to was a,boy with his fist
in the air, doing aChe Guevara with his Armalite, chanting away. I couldn't
have been more than twenty meters away from him. I saw his eyes open wide
with alarm inside his mask.
He started to shout and fumbled with his weapon. I also shouted,
fumbled for mine, and cocked it. His weapon was already cocked, so he just
started blatting like an idiot. I blatted back, getting the rounds down at
him and the other masked people. Another fellow came up from behind the
wagon and started to fire down in my general direction.
They were flapping as much as I was, in a frenzy to get into the cattle
truck and get away.
One of the boys got into the back of the wagon and started firing, and
the others clambered in. I got rounds into one of them. He was screaming
like a pig as he went over the other side. Then there was lots of screaming
coming from inside the vehicle, where other people were also taking rounds.
By this time Scouse, another fellow from the patrol, had come up from
the dead ground but couldn't get over the fence because of the firing. So he
was firing from that side of the fence. The other two were down in the dead
ground, totally confused about what was going on.
It had all happened so quickly.
Lots of firing was going down. Everybody was screaming and shouting; I
was kneeling and firing away.
In my twenty-round magazines I always made sure that the top two were