Movieola!

Начало книги

For the opening we go with The Arrival of the Hit Men. That’s the way to make a trailer, a hundred seconds or so of grabber screentime: start with killers in an airport. No need to be crass about it. No need for any kind of race thing, religion thing, politics thing. Pure fear, that’s what we want, the lowdown cello throb like someone’s pulling a bow right across the spinal column. And what are you watching? A couple of adorable kids holding hands, waiting at the metal detector, and some clean-cut Homeland Security gunman giving them a worry-free smile (works best if the kids are white, the soldier black)…but meanwhile, behind them, in just-perceptible slo-mo, two guys whose getup screams Made. Made men and vain about it, in their long, pomade-heavy hair, their knee-length closet-creased black leather coats (belt, no zipper; no faggy excess). Of course they’ve got their sunglasses on too, even as they emerge from the ramp into JFK or O’Hare.

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