"Exit wound" - читать интересную книгу автора (McNab Andy)

4

Apart from the gentle whispers between Red Ken and the contact, it was quiet.

Red Ken’s German was far better than mine, but that wasn’t saying much. I was still at eighteen-year-old-squaddie level. ‘Pommes frites… Bier… Taxi…’ was pretty much my limit, with the occasional ‘danke’ and ‘bitte’ thrown in. If anything else I wanted wasn’t on display – so I could point at it and shout – I had to go hungry.

Spag stormed up to them, both hands still gripping the bag. ‘Shouldn’t we get moving?’

Tenny carried on checking comms. He’d send Dex a sitrep when we were at the meet, and another as we left. If we didn’t report in, it meant a drama at our end. If he didn’t acknowledge, it meant one at his.

I moved closer to the group. The contact was in his fifties. He ignored Spag. He dug in the pockets of his leather overcoat and pulled out a pack of F6.

Red Ken waved a hand. ‘Nein, nein.’ He flipped open his day-sack and dug out one of the mysterious rectangular packages, a carton of Benson amp; Hedges.

The contact beamed as he ran his fingers along the cellophane. When Red Ken threw in a cheap disposable lighter, his early Christmas was complete.

It was too much for Spag. ‘Jee-sus, let’s get going here! We stopping for tea and cucumber sandwiches, or what?’

Red Ken was close to decking him. ‘We’ll go when we’re good and ready.’

Tenny stepped between them. ‘We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for this guy. If he wants to wait and smoke, that’s what we do.’

He shook the contact’s hand, triggering another stream of waffle. Tenny nodded. His German was excellent too.

‘We have to hold back a while. We have to give Vladislav time to make the RV. He wants to be there before us to check it out. And he has something he needs to discuss with Red before we move.’

Spag wasn’t having any of it. ‘Fuck him. He’ll be history when this whole pile of crap collapses.’

Red Ken offered the contact a cigarette from his own pack and they both lit up. Both drew deeply to help their creases along. The tips glowed and the smoke mingled with our breath. Red Ken glared at the American. He wasn’t playing. He showed every sign of being prepared to stand there until they’d smoked the whole carton.

Spag spun on his heel and stormed back to the aircraft.