Цитата #1697 из книги «"Этаж смерти" with W_cat»

I nodded. That’s what a soft-nose bullet does. It goes in and flattens out as it does so. Becomes a blob of lead about the size of a quarter tumbling through whatever tissue it meets. Rips a great big exit hole for itself. And a nice slow soft-nose.22 makes sense with a silencer. No point using a silencer except with a subsonic muzzle velocity. Otherwise the bullet is making its own sonic boom all the way to the target, like a tiny fighter plane.

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“So how long is this exposure going to last?” I asked him.

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“Your husband felt bad, OK?” I said. “He got hold of some kind of an investigator, a government guy, and they were trying to fix the situation. But the government guy got killed. And I’m afraid my interest is in the government guy, more than your husband.”

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“Right,” I said. “I’m Reacher. From Friday. What was the deal?”

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“I can’t answer that,” he said. “I’d be telling you more than I should.”

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