JК
The Third Option :: Flynn Vince
Страница: 33 из 267He went down the steps to the crushed-rock driveway, shot to the right, and ran past thelimousines. The first car he passed was a Jaguar. Rapp didn't bother to check for keys. He needed something that would blend in a little better, preferably something that was made in Germany. Next was a red Mercedes-Benz; he passed on that one, too, but stopped at the third, a black Mercedes coupe. Rapp breathed a sigh of relief as the door opened and he saw the keys dangling from the ignition.
The car started, and Rapp eyed the gas gauge as it rose to two-thirds of a tank. He was in luck. Rapp shifted the car into first gear, and instead of pulling out onto the driveway, he turned the opposite way onto the grass. He drove the car across the side lawn toward the rear of the house. He looked over to his right to see if anyone had noticed him. Everyone appeared to be focused on the fire. The headlights lit the way as the sporty car picked up speed across the level, plush lawn. Rapp got a little too anxious with the accelerator several times, and the wheels spun out on the dew-covered grass.
Rapp never went anywhere without an escape plan, and this was no exception. From the moment he arrived, he had started memorizing avenues of escape. He knew where the adjoining roads led, the nearest train stations and airfields, anything that would help him get away as quickly as possible if things went wrong – and something had gone horribly wrong tonight. He couldn't even begin to imagine how he had been set up. Rapp smashed his fist down on the leather steering wheel and swore at himself for ignoring the warning signs that were now so obvious.
He turned the car onto one of the walking paths that cut through the large garden in the backyard. It occurred to him that the roof-mounted security cameras were undoubtedly recording his movements, but he discarded the worry after only a second. The fire would keep everyone busy for quite some time. He reached the end of the large garden, and the car gained speed as it cut across another large swatch of grass and the tires found the soft gravel of a horse trail. Rapp shifted the car into third gear and then fourth. With the car climbing above sixty miles an hour, he checked the odometer and noted how far he would have to travel before the first turn.
The road rolled down and away from the mansion, and Rapp kept his focus on the path ahead, heading for the small bridge that would get him over a creek that separated the manicured lawn from the forest. Moments later, the car flew over a short wood bridge, its side mirrors inches away from clipping the railings. Rapp slowed, looking for a turn that, according to the satellite photos he'd studied, should be coming up on his right.
The car started, and Rapp eyed the gas gauge as it rose to two-thirds of a tank. He was in luck. Rapp shifted the car into first gear, and instead of pulling out onto the driveway, he turned the opposite way onto the grass. He drove the car across the side lawn toward the rear of the house. He looked over to his right to see if anyone had noticed him. Everyone appeared to be focused on the fire. The headlights lit the way as the sporty car picked up speed across the level, plush lawn. Rapp got a little too anxious with the accelerator several times, and the wheels spun out on the dew-covered grass.
Rapp never went anywhere without an escape plan, and this was no exception. From the moment he arrived, he had started memorizing avenues of escape. He knew where the adjoining roads led, the nearest train stations and airfields, anything that would help him get away as quickly as possible if things went wrong – and something had gone horribly wrong tonight. He couldn't even begin to imagine how he had been set up. Rapp smashed his fist down on the leather steering wheel and swore at himself for ignoring the warning signs that were now so obvious.
He turned the car onto one of the walking paths that cut through the large garden in the backyard. It occurred to him that the roof-mounted security cameras were undoubtedly recording his movements, but he discarded the worry after only a second. The fire would keep everyone busy for quite some time. He reached the end of the large garden, and the car gained speed as it cut across another large swatch of grass and the tires found the soft gravel of a horse trail. Rapp shifted the car into third gear and then fourth. With the car climbing above sixty miles an hour, he checked the odometer and noted how far he would have to travel before the first turn.
The road rolled down and away from the mansion, and Rapp kept his focus on the path ahead, heading for the small bridge that would get him over a creek that separated the manicured lawn from the forest. Moments later, the car flew over a short wood bridge, its side mirrors inches away from clipping the railings. Rapp slowed, looking for a turn that, according to the satellite photos he'd studied, should be coming up on his right.