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

Mountains; a condom can be used to make a catapult, collect water in, or
even as an emergency flotation device.
All our kit was searched and checked and put into the toilets that were
going to be the changing room.
Each of us in turn was sent in to see the doctor.
"Strip off your tracksuit and put it in that bin liner," he said.
"Then sign this."
Bollock naked, I signed a bit of paper to say that I didn't mind being
internally checked. As I signed, I could hear the rubber gloves going on.
Then it was a quick squirt of KY jelly and, "Right, touch your toes."
With a swift, practiced movement the doctor plunged his finger up my arse as
far as it would go, presumably to check that I hadn't cached a box of Milk
Tray.
The MoD police were mooching around outside with their dogs, making
sure no one was going to try to do a runner and sniffing for hidden food. I
had it all squared away; I'd known that the toilets would be used as
changing rooms and had wrapped chocolate, peanuts, and raisins in polythene
bags and hidden them in all the cisterns. When I went back to the toilet
block to change, I said to one of the police, "Just going to have a quick
dump."
I went into the toilet, smiling all over my face, and lifted up the
cistern.
Empty.
A week before that George and I had also had put out caches of food all
around South Wales. We had no idea of exactly where we would be going to go
but made an educated guess. For most of a weekend we were running around
buying c;ins of tuna and hiding them at prominent points. Tesco's made a
fortune out of us.
We were issued with a set of battle dress from the Second World War, a
pair of boots, and a greatcoat, and that was it. Onto a vehicle and off we
went. We were driven at night to a dropoff point, and from there we were
told where our next RP was going to be the following'night. The idea was to
move during the night, as tactically as we could in groups of four.
My group included a fellow from the PT corps and two navy aircrew, one
of whom had terrible flatulence.
All the Selection people had been split up. I took one look at my
teammates and decided to detach myself from them at the earliest
opportunity; nothing personal, but I didn't want to get caught, and I
thought I'd be better off on my own. The first time we got bumped by the
Guards I would do a runner.
We moved tactically at night, and in the daytime it was just a matter
of finding the world's biggest, prickliest, most antisocial bush, getting
right in the middle of it, and hiding. At last light we would start moving
again into the area of the RP, to meet up with the agent who was going to
put us further onto this rat run. In real life the agents would want as
little to do with us as possible because they wouldn't want to compromise
themselves; to add realism, therefore, the DS, who were the agents, were
being hunted by the A.R.F (airborne reaction force) as well.
At the RP one of us would go forward and make contact, while the other
three stood back; I always held back and made sure somebody else went