"Энди Макнаб. Удаленный контроль (engl) " - читать интересную книгу автора

two had Budweisers by the neck and were watching soccer. Both had cigarettes
and were smoking like ten men; if I'd been watching them in a bar in Derry,
I'd have taken it as nervousness, but Aer Lingus has a no-smoking policy on
its flights; it looked as if these boys were getting their big hit before
boarding.
Both were looking very much the tourist, clean-shaven, clean hair, not
overdressed as businessmen, not underdressed as slobs. Basically they were
so nondescript you wouldn't give them a second glance, which indicated that
they were quite switched on-and that was a problem for me. If they'd been
looking like a bag of shit or at all nervous, I'd have known I was up
against second or third-string players-easy job. But these boys were Major
League, a long way from hanging around the docks on kneecapping duty.
There were kids everywhere, chasing and shouting, mothers screaming
after two-year-olds who'd found their feet and were skimming across the
terminal. For us, the more noise and activity the better. I sat down with
the drinks. I wanted to get as much information as I could from Euan before
they went through security.
On cue, he said, "I picked McGear up from Deny. He went to the Sinn
Fein office on Cable Street and presumably got briefed. Then to Belfast. The
spooks tried to use the listening device but didn't have any luck. Nothing
else to report, really.
They spent the night getting drunk, then came down here.
Been here about two hours. They booked the flight by credit card, using
their cover names. Their cover's good. They've even got their Virgin luggage
tags on; they don't want anything to go wrong."
"Where are they staying?"
"I don't know. It's all very last-minute and Easter's a busy time.
There're about ten Virgin-affiliated hotels in D.C.; it's probably one of
them-we haven't had time to check."
I didn't write anything down. If you write stuff down, you can lose it.
I'd have to remember it.
"Is that all?" I asked.
"That's your lot. I don't know how they're going to transfer from the
airport, but it looks like they're off to D.C." big boy."
Subject closed, as far as Euan was concerned. It was now time to talk
shit.
"You still see a lot ofKev?"
I took a sip of coffee and nodded.
"Yeah, he's in Washington now, doing all right. The kids and Marsha are
fine. I saw them about four months ago. He's been promoted, and they've just
bought the biggest house in suburbia. It's what you'd call executive
housing." Euan grinned, looking like Santa Claus with white froth on his
top lip. His own place was a stone-walled sheep farmer's cottage in the
middle of nowhere in the Black Mountains of Wales. His nearest neighbor was
two miles away on the other side of the valley.
I said, "Marsha loves it in D.C.-no one trying to shoot holes in the
car."
Marsha, an American, was Kev's second wife. After leaving the Regiment
he'd moved to the States with her and had joined the Drug Enforcement
Administration. They had two young kids, Kelly and Aida.