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

"Not too bad. I'm in Washington."
"What are you doing? Nah, I don't want to know! You coming to see us?"
"If you're not busy. I'm leaving tonight, back to the UK.
It'll be a quick stop and hello, OK?"
"Any chance of you getting your ass up here right away?
I've just got the ball rolling on something, but I'd be interested to
know what you think. You'll really like this one!"
"No problem, mate. I'll hire a car at the hotel and head straight
over."
"Marsha will want to go into cordon bleu overdrive. I'll tell her when
she gets back with the kids. Have a meal with us, then you can go on to the
airport. You won't believe the stuff I've got here. Your friends over the
water are busy."
"I can't wait."
"Nick, there's one other thing."
"What's that, mate?"
"You owe your goddaughter a birthday present-you forgot again,
dickhead."
Driving west along the freeway, I kept wondering what Kev could want to
talk to me about. Friends over the water? Kev had no connection with PIRA
that I knew of. He was in the DEA, not the CIA or any antiterrorist
department. Besides, I knew that his job was far more administrative than
fieldwork now. I guessed he probably just needed some background
information.
I thought again about Slack Pat and made a mental note to ask Kev if he
had a contact address for the ass less one.
I got on the interstate. Tyson's Corner was the junction I had to get
off at-well, not really; I wanted the one before but I could never remember
it. The moment I left the freeway I was in leafy suburbia. Large houses
lined the road, and just about every one seemed to have a seven-seat minivan
in the drive and a basketball hoop fixed over the garage.
I followed my nose to Kev's subdivision and turned into their road.
Hunting Bear Path. I continued on for about a quarter of a mile until I
reached a small parade of shops arranged in an open square with parking
spaces, mainly little delis and boutiques specializing in candles and soap.
I bought candy for Aida and Kelly that I knew Marsha wouldn't let them have,
and a couple of other presents.
Facing the shops was a stretch of vacant ground that looked as if it
had been earmarked as the next phase of the development.
On and around the churned-up ground were trailers, big stockpiles of
girders and other building materials, and two or three bulldozers.
Far up on the right-hand side among the sprawling houses I could just
about make out the rear of Kev and Marsha's "deluxe colonial." As I drove
closer I could see their Ford Windstar, the thing she threw the kids into to
go screaming to school. It had a big furry Garfield stuck to the rear
window.
I couldn't see Kev's company car, a Caprice Classic that bristled with
antennae. They were so ugly only government agents used them. Kev normally
kept his in the garage, safely out of sight of predators.
I was looking forward to seeing the Browns again even though I knew