Nemesis

Начало книги

Stepan Vodovos gazed at the hill that rose through the mist in the distance like a hump-backed prehistoric behemoth with its dense bristling spines of pine trees, and thought: this could be home.

Ahead of him, the path narrowed as it curved leftwards. Once, the path had been coated with a neat layer of gravel, but the years and the grinding impact of feet and hooves and wheels and weather had ground it into just another rough dirt track.

Ten yards in front, the vanguard spread out, four men alongside each other. They were hard men, every one of them, though they weren’t in military dress. Their bulky duffel coats expanded their silhouettes almost grotesquely. Underneath the coats, Vodovos knew, they wore slim-fitting para-aramid textile vests augmented with titanium plates, designed to withstand the impact of any handgun projectile and those delivered by most rifles.

Each man was armed with a GSh-18 pistol and a Kizlyar fighting knife. Both weapons were standard issue for the armed services of the Russian Federation, the knife a particular favourite of the spetsnyaz, the special forces.

Читать дальше →