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

back in the holding area. Straight back up against the wall, hands up high,
and the legs kicked back.
I could hear lots of movement. Like me, everybody was obviously
starting to feel the effects of the stress positions. The boys were walking
around more, moving people more because they weren't holding the positions.
I heard people falling and hitting the floor.
The cycle of interrogations and stress positions went on over a period
of about twenty-four hours. The interrogators were brilliant actors. They'd
start with a nice friendly approach, then suddenly throw the switch a'nd
hurl a frenzy of abuse.
I was sitting in a stress position, my legs crossed, back straight and
hands behind my head, trying to find a comfortable position without moving
too obviously. I had pins and needles in my head; my back and neck were
strained; every time my elbows came forward to rest someone would yank them
right the way back.
I was picked up and taken for another interrogation. I tried to lift my
legs up to keep them from dragging on the gravel. I heard the boys straining
to carry my weight and felt quite pleased to be getting my own back.
One boy held my head, grabbed hold of my hair to point me forward.
They undid the blindfold, and straightaway I closed my eyes.
A young cockney voice said, "Look forward, mate, that's all right."
He was all ginger hair and freckles, the first younger man that I'd
seen. "Sorry to mess you about, mate," he said. "Let's just go all over it
again, if you don't mind.
We're getting all cocked up here. Let's just get your details right.
What's your number again?"
I said.
"Name?"
I said.
"All right, that's fine. Now, is that an 'Mc or an Mac?"
That put me in a bit of a dilemma. What do I say?
"I can't answer that question."
"Ah, come on, mate. I'm trying to do my job here.
We've got to sort all this out. Is it a small N or a big N?"
"I can't answer that question."
"Oh, all right then. What's your date of birth?"
I gave it.
"Okay, don't worry about the difference in the spelling then.
We'll sort that out later. But what exactly were you doing? I'm totally
confused-I've got all these notes and bits of paper all over the place from
these people you've been talking to. What were you doing?"
I saw through it: the friend, the same age-group.
I couldn't help noticing that he had half a cheese sandwich and a cup
of coffee in front of him.
"Can we just sort this out?" he said. "What's your number again?"
I remembered a Green Jackets officer who took over A Company, who had
been the ops officer for the Regiment. When he rejoined the battalion, he
started doing little interrogation exercises, and something he had once said
stuck in my memory: "If you get the chance of food, take it. Once it's
inside you, what can they do?"