"Энди Макнаб. День независимости (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

I'd had all the incentive I needed. In fact, I felt pretty good as I turned
to Greaseball.
The roar of burning fuel now filled the night. Flames licked higher and
higher, brushing against the sky. The police could only be minutes away.
Greaseball raised himself up from the bed.
"You can't kill me, I am too important. No one but Zeralda is to be
killed you know that, don't you? You can't kill me, that is not your
decision to make, you are just the tools."
I looked him straight in the eye, but said nothing, feeling angry and
deflated as he spat out some vomit. Then he almost smiled.
"How do you think your people knew that he would be here tonight? You
cannot kill me, I'm too important. You need me. Now, stop being stupid and
crawl back into your kennel until required."
Windows were being smashed about the house now, to feed the fire we
were going to start in here. Lotfi and Hubba-Hubba would be stacking
furniture for good measure. This was the bit they'd really loved during the
training.
Lotfi pulled the last of the squeezy bottles from his bergen. They'd
been half filled with boiled washing up liquid, then topped up with petrol
and given a good shake. He gave the bed a squirt, then saved the rest for
Zeralda. One match and this place would be an inferno.
Greaseball made a run for it into the house and Hubba-Hubba started
after him.
"Leave him. Not enough time."
The phone rang and we all jumped. It could have been anyone maybe the
police, maybe one of Zeralda's family, or one of his paedophile mates.
Whatever, Hubba-Hubba turned and gave the phone a good old squirt as well.
"Come on!" I shouted, 'time to move. Let's light up, let's go, let's
go!"
I shouldered my bergen, and heard the rush of fuel being ignited in the
room next door. Lotfi ran past me and out into the courtyard. I followed as
Hubba-Hubba transformed the bedroom into a furnace.
There was no great plan for the next bit just run down to the boat and
get out to sea for a pick-up and some hot sticky black tea and a noseful of
diesel fumes.
As I ran through the perimeter door I saw the flaming fuel from the
bung flowing out of the breach and down the incline, exactly like it said in
the script. The sky was bright orange. After all that practising, all that
rehearsal, it looked just beautiful. I stood there for what seemed like
ages, looking at the flames as the heat gently seared my skin. I was almost
sorry that we wouldn't be around to see the best bit. As the flames flowed
under the fuel trucks, they, too, would soon be joining in the fun, with
luck just as the police arrived.
Lotfi gave me a shove, and our shadows followed us until we got over
the lip. Once we hit the sand it was simply a case of turning right and
following the shoreline to the Zodiac.
As I scrambled down the hill I felt nothing but exhilaration. At long
last I'd earned my US passport and the right to a whole new life.
Five.
FRIDAY, 16 NOVEMBER, 11:56 hrs