“Hold your fire!’ screamed Edward, ‘it’s not a gun! She’s got a bloody camera! It’s not a gun! Stand down! Stand down!’ She swivelled at his shout and pointed the camera at him. They locked eyes. There was one more flash. She winked suggestively then sat down… The Harleys revved and were across the bridge in seconds. Edward bent double, head down, hands on knees, gasping for breath. She’d actually fucking winked! He picked up her abandoned helmet. He could smell her perfume.”
Book:Maskirovka