"Энди Макнаб. Последний свет (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автораWaterloo Station just ten minutes' walk away. They'd be knocking back a
celebratory glass of wine in the Channel tunnel well before the full extent of what they'd done had dawned on Special Branch and the news networks. TWO Once I'd satisfied myself that the only activity in the killing ground came from harassed catering staff, I got back to watching the three bulbs. Snipers One and Three should have signed on by now. I was well past concerned, and not too far short of worried. I thought about Sniper Two. She would have moved cautiously into the fire position after clearing her route, employing the same tradecraft as at the DLB, and probably in a simple disguise. A wig, coat and sunglasses do more than people think, even if SB racked up hundreds of man hours poring over footage from hospital security, traffic and urban CCTV cameras. Having first put on her surgical gloves, she would have made entry to her Portakabin with the key provided, closed the door, locked up, and shoved two grey rubber wedges a third of the way down and a third up the frame to prevent anyone entering, even with a key. Then, before moving anywhere, she'd have opened the sports bag and begun to put on her work clothes, a set of light blue, hooded and footed coveralls for paint spraying from B&Q. It was imperative that she didn't contaminate the area or the weapon and equipment that were going to be left behind with fibres of her clothing or other personal sign. Her mouth would now be covered by a protective mask to was pleased with the masks: they'd been on special offer. The coveralls and gloves were also there to protect clothes and skin. If she was apprehended immediately after the shoot, residue from the round that she'd fired would be detectable on her skin and clothes. That's why suspects' hands are bagged in plastic. I was also wearing surgical gloves, but just as a normal precaution. I was determined to leave nothing, and disturb nothing too. Once she'd got covered up, with just her eyes exposed, she'd be looking like a forensic scientist at a crime scene. It would then have been time to prepare the fire position. Unlike me, she needed to be away from the window, so she'd have dragged the desk about three metres clear. Then she'd have pinned a net curtain into the plasterboard ceiling, letting it fall in front of the desk before pinning it tight to the legs. Next, she'd have pinned up the sheet of opaque black material behind her, letting it hang to the floor. As with the netting, I had cut it to size for each fire position after the CTR. The combination of a net curtain in front and a dark backdrop behind creates the illusion of a room in shadow. It meant that anyone looking through the window wouldn't see a fat rifle muzzle being pointed at them by a scarily dressed woman. Both sets of optics that she'd be using, the binos and the weapon sight, could easily penetrate the netting, so it wouldn't affect her ability to make the shot. Some fifteen minutes after arriving, she'd be sitting in the green, nylon-padded swivel chair behind the desk. Her takedown weapon would be assembled and supported on the desk by the bipod attached to the forward |
|
|