Читать книгу Arctic Kill - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

“I have a gun,” Sparrow said

He kicked the air marshal, who was sitting on the floor, his face a mess of burns and blood. The man groaned. “And I have a hostage.”

“No, what you have is a problem,” Bolan said, edging closer. “You’re only going to get one shot, and I’m fairly certain you’re not good enough to hit me, even this close. And if you miss, one of four things will happen.” Bolan slid forward another few inches. “One, you’ll punch a hole in the plane itself. Not a big deal, really, despite what movies would have you believe.”

Sparrow was staring at him with wary fascination, like a rat watching an approaching snake.

“Two, you’ll pop a window, which is worse. Someone could get sucked out and the cabin will be filled with so much flying debris that a concussion will be the least of your worries. Three, your bullet clips some wiring. You might stop the in-flight entertainment or you could kill the radar or something worse. And four, your errant shot could puncture one of the fuel tanks. Which, if we’re lucky, just causes a fire, but if we’re not…” Bolan spread his hands. “Boom.”