Аннотация
Gavin Lyall
Judas Country
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A few minutes ago the sky had been a place. Of clouds, winds, pressures, turbulence. Now, it was just thedécor of a flashy Cyprus sunset. The propellers wound down and stopped with a brief, violent shudder, but I went on sitting there, running my hands over the still-unfamiliar avionics switches and trying to wriggle some of the stiffness out of my neck and shoulders. A small Ford van dashed up and stopped just in front.
By the time I'd worked my way back past the champagne boxes and stacked passenger seats and swung down the door, he was waiting below with a small piece of paper and a large anxious expression.
'Landing fee,' he said. 'You have cash money?'
'Yes, sure.' But I must have looked puzzled. I've known airports that were hungry to get paid, but this was a new record. Still, service with style – it says so on the tail of the aeroplane, just under the Castle Hotels International symbol. I found the wallet of Cas...
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