Mcnabs Quotes

She doesn’t like you, McNab. “I knoooow. I find that really attractive in a woman.

You don't need to diet, She-Body. You are a just-right female." "McNab?" Eve said. "Yes, sir." "Shut up." "It's all right, Dallas. We're a couple." "A couple of what? No, don't tell me. Don't talk to me. Don't talk to each other. Let there be silence across the land.

Have McNab take the edge if you need one. Can he handle bad cop?" "He does it really well during personal role-playing games when I'm the reluctant witness.

[Peabody:] "Bite me." Though Eve managed to swallow a chuckle at her aide's use of her own standard response to annoyances, she didn't quite make it over McNab's cheerful, "Where?

Why do you always have to put you and McNab and sex in my head? It brings pain no blocker can cure.

Pull yourself together, Detective. You're embarrassing yourself, and more imprtant, you're embarrassing me." "They're going to do it outside. In public." "So the fuck what?" "Public," Peabody said, head still between her knees. "You're being honored by this department and this city for having the integrity, the courage, and the skill to take out a blight on this department and this city. Dirty, murdering, greedy, treacherous cops are sitting in cages right now because you had that integrity, courage, and skill. I don't care if they do this damn thing in Grand Central, you will get on your feet. You will not puke, pass out, cry like a baby, or squeal like a girl. That's a goddamn order." "I had more of a 'Relax, Peabody, this is a proud moment' sort of speech in mind," McNab murmured to Roarke. Roarke shook his head, grinned. "Did you now? You've a bit to learn yet, haven't you?

Better to live a day on your feet than a lifetime on your knees.

Would you be shedding tears for McNab’s dead body if he’d been screwing around on you?” Peabody pursed her lips. “Well, since I’d’ve been the one who killed him, I’d probably be shedding tears for me because you’d be arresting me. And that would really make me sad.

You'll stay in the surveillance vehicle and assist McNab. Any arguments from you, Detective?" she said, looking at McNab. "No. No, sir, Lieutenant." He patted Peabody on the back. "You okay, honey?" "No honeys!" Eve pulled at her hair. "There are no honeys on an op, for sweet Christ's sake. Keep it up, just keep it up, and I'm having one of you transferred to Queens.

At the moment Kay was closing Emily McNab’s casket for the last time, the solemn moment had been pierced by a small, but insistent voice from the back of the church. An inquisitive little girl wanted to know, “Mommy, who’s that lady in the suitcase?” With the exception of the child’s mortified mother, the congregation had enjoyed a good laugh.

Eve sucked air through her nose. "The next person, the very next person, who says that is going to know my wrath." "I'm on a first-name basis with your wrath, sir. I guess this isn't the best time to tell you that McNab and I are thinking of cohabitating." "Oh my God. My eye." Desperate, Eve pressed her fist to the twitch. "Not while I'm driving.

Cut it out.” She gave Peabody a shove. “You’re making my eye twitch.” “We’re just sitting here.” “I know sex giggles when I hear them.” “I wasn’t giggling.” “Not you. Him.” McNab just grinned at her. “Those were manly chuckles.” “You’re cops. Be cops.

Peabody, with me." She waited until they were back in her office. "Don't hover over McNab like that." "Sir?" "You hover over him, you're going to make him think you're worried." "I am worried. The twenty-four-" "Worry all you want, dump on me if you need to. But don't let him see it. He's starting to fray, and he's trying hard not to show it. You try just as hard not to show it. If you need to vent, go out there on the kitchen terrace. Scream your lungs out." "Is that what you do?" "Sometimes. Sometimes I kick inanimate objects. Sometimes I jump Roarke and have jungle sex. The last," she said after a beat, "is not an option for you." "But I think it would really make me feel better, and be a more productive member of the investigative team." "Good, humor is good. Get me coffee.

She pushed herself up, swayed, and might have tumbled if Feeney hadn’t gripped her arm. “Head rush. I’m okay, just a little queasy. Lowell’s in there, secured. You need to haul his ass in. Your collar.” “No, it’s not.” Feeney gave her arm a squeeze. “But I’ll haul his ass in for you. McNab, help the lieutenant upstairs, then get your butt back down here and start on the electronics.” “I don’t need help,” Eve protested. “You fall on your face,” Feeney murmured in her ear, “you’ll ruin your exit.” “Yeah. Yeah.” “Just lean on me, Lieutenant.” McNab wrapped an arm around her waist. “You try to cop a feel, I can still put you down.” “Whatever your condition, Dallas, you still scare me.” “Aw.” Touched, she slung an arm around his shoulders. “That’s so sweet.

I wasn't going to have dessert, but it was right there, all gooey and sweet. It's like sex. I mean, when it's right there, what are you supposed to do? I wasn't going to have that either--sex--with my parents bunking in the office, but, well, it was right there." "I'll tolerate the gooey and sweet, Peabody, but I'm not thinking about you having sex with McNab, especially in the same sentence as 'my parents.'" "I think they had sex, too." Eve struggled not to wince or twitch. "Do you want me to kick you down four flights of steps and make you walk up again?" "I'd probably bounce all the way down, too, with all this gooey and sweet in my butt. So I guess not." "Good choice.

Do I get a bonus for letting him grab my boob?” “Your boob, like the rest of you, belongs to the NYPSD. Besides, McNab’s going to ride you like a racehorse first chance. That’s your bonus.” “You brought up sex and McNab!” “This once, also your bonus.” “I’ve got this outfit at home Dolly would wear. I’m going to put it on tonight and—” “You didn’t earn that big a bonus.

Just lean on me, Lieutenant.” McNab wrapped an arm around her waist. “You try to cop a feel, I can still put you down.” “Whatever your condition, Dallas, you still scare me.” “Aw.” Touched, she slung an arm around his shoulders. “That’s so sweet.

Peabody waved her PPC triumphantly. “It’s the Kirk thing, The Enterprise thing. It reminded me I’d hit this name that made me snicker when I was running the van—the Cargo. Here it is. Tony Stark.” “Oh, baby.” McNab blew her a double-handed kiss. “Good call.” “It’s gotta be, right?” Peabody said to McNab. “It’s his style.” “Who the hell is Tony Stark?” Eve demanded. “Iron Man,” Roarke told her. “Superhero, genius, innovative engineer, and billionaire playboy.” “Iron Man? You’re talking about a comic book guy?” “Graphic novel,” Roarke and McNab said together.

the rasp of the respirator’s filter were about as comforting as Darth Vader reading a bedtime story,

You know, my world may look like a pile of shit, but at least I sometimes get to sit on top of it

If you're dizzy at all, sit down. Just sit down wherever you are. It's better than falling. Range of motion in the shoulder?" Eve demonstrated it by raising her arms and scrubbing shampoo into her hair. "Hip?" Eve wiggled her butt and made Louise laugh. "Glad to see you're feeling frisky." "That wasn't frisky. I was mooning you, which is supposed to be insulting." "But you have such a cute little butt." "So I've always said," Roarke added. "Jesus, are you still in here? Go away, everybody go away." She flipped back her hair, turned, and let out a thin scream when Peabody walked in. "Hey! How're you feeling?" "Naked. I'm feeling naked and very crowded." "The face doesn't look half-bad." Peabody looked around. "She's in here, McNab, doing a lot better." "He comes in here," Eve said ominously, "and somebody's going to die." "Bathrooms—veritable death traps," Roarke added. "Why don't I just take Peabody and McNab, and Feeney," he added when he heard the EDD captain's voice join McNab's, "up to your office. Louise will stay until she's satisfied you're fit to return to duty." "I'm fit to kick righteous ass if one more person sees my tits this morning." She turned away again and tried to bury herself in water and steam.

It must be really rough, forced to put on a beautiful dress, stick some diamonds or whatever all over you and choke down champagne and lobster croquettes beside the most beautiful man ever born, on or off planet. I don't know how you get through the day with that weight on your shoulders, Dallas." "Shut up." "And here I am, free to squeeze into the local pizza place with McNab where we will split the pie and the check." Peabody shook her head slowly. The dark bowl of hair under her cap swayed in conceit. "I can't tell you how guilty I feel knowing that." "You looking for trouble, Peabody?" "No, sir." Peabody did her best to look pious. "Just offering my support and sympathy at this difficult time.

Hey, sweetheart. All alone in this palace?" She arched a brow when she felt the hand on her bottom and turned her head slowly to stare at McNab. He went red, then white, then red again. "Christ! Lieutenant. Sir." "Your hand's on my ass, McNab. I don't think you want it to be there." He snatched it away as if scorched. "God. Man. Shit. Beg your pardon. I didn't recognize you. I mean..." He jammed the hand he sincerely hoped she'd allow him to keep in his pocket. "I didn't know it was you. I thought... You look..." Words failed him. "I believe Detective McNab is trying to compliment you, Eve." Roarke slipped up beside them and, because it was too much to resist, stared hard into McNab's panicked eyes. "Weren't you, Ian?" "Yeah. That is..." "And if I believed he'd realized it was your ass he was fondling, I'd just have to kill him. Right here." Roarke reached out and flicked at the strings of McNab's snazzy red tie. "Right now." "Oh, I'd have already taken care of that myself," Eve said dryly. "You look like you could use a drink,Detective." "Yes, sir. I could." "Roarke, why don't you take care of him? Mira just came in. I want to talk to her." "Delighted." Roarke draped an arm around McNab's shoulder and squeezed just a little harder than comfort allowed.

It’s going to work.” “Classic,” Roarke said. “What’s going to work? What’s classic? I want my jacket.” “Forget it. You’re going to walk right up to Milo the Mole’s front door, and he’s going to answer.” “I am? He is?” “Damsel in distress, right?” Eve said to Roarke. “A very alluring damsel. Clever, Lieutenant.” “Oh, okay. I get it. I look like I’m in trouble—all alone, unarmed. Harmless. Girl. He opens up to find out what’s what. You should do it,” Peabody told Eve. “You’re the one with the tits. Men are stupid for tits.” “Harsh,” Roarke observed. “But largely true.” “Plus, you’re the type, obviously, who appeals to skinny geeks.” “Oh yeah,” McNab confirmed. “Completely.

I was a thirty-seven-year-old man with a lot on his mind but not too much in it.

And how does my aide come by this information before I do?" "Well, you know . . . pillow talk. See, sex—in this case—is an advantage to you. McNab said they'd get through faster, but at data clubs like that, the units are totally clogged. But he's on it and it's his top priority." She cleared her throat when Eve made no comment. "Should I still contact Captain Feeney?" "Oh, Feeney and I appear to be superfluous at this point. You and McPecker can fill us in whenever you feel it's appropriate." "McPecker." Peabody snorted. "That's a good one. I'm going to use it on him." "Happy to help." She shot Peabody a deceptively friendly look. "Perhaps I'm wasting my time going to the lab. Have you and Dickie also had a liaison?" " Eeeuw." "My faith in you is, at least, partially restored.

You and McNab sat around talking about women and sports." "I don't believe we got to sports. He had a woman on his mind." Eve's sneer vanished. "You talked to him about Peabody? Damn it, Roarke." "I could hardly slap him back. He's so pitifully smitten." "Oh." She winced. "Don't use that word." "It fits. In fact, if he took my advice ..." He turned his wrist, glanced at the unit fastened there. "They should be well into their first date by now." "Date? Date? Why did you do that? Why did you go and do something like that? Couldn't you leave it alone? They'd have had sex until they burned out on it, and everything would go back to normal." He angled his head. "That didn't work for us, did it?" "We don't work together." Then, when his eyes brightened with pure amusement, she showed her teeth. "Officially. You start mixing cops and romance and case files and gooey looks at briefings, you've got nothing but a mess. Next thing you know, Peabody will be wearing lip dye and smelly girl stuff and dragging body skimmers under her uniform." She dropped her head in her hands. "Then they'll have tiffs and misunderstandings that have nothing whatsoever to do with the job. They'll come at me from both sides, and before you know it, they'll be telling me things I absolutely do not want to know. And when they break it off and decide they hate each other down to the guts, I'll have to hear about that, too, and why they can't possibly work together, or breathe the same air, until I have no choice, absolutely no choice, but to kick both of their asses." "Eve, your sunny view on life never fails to lift my spirits." "And -- " She poked him in the chest. "It's all your fault." He grabbed her finger, nipped it, not so gently. "If that's the case, I'm going to insist they name their first child after me.

You know, I'm really trying to cut down on this stuff. But..." Peabody ripped into the pack of cookies. "Thing is, weird, McNab doesn't think I'm chubby. And when a guy sees you naked, he knows where the extra layers are." "Peabody, do you have some delusion that I want to hear how McNab sees you naked?" She crunched into a cookie. "I'm just saying. Anyway, you know we have sex, so you've probably reached the conclusion we're naked when we're having it. You being an ace detective and all." "Peabody, in the chain of command, you may, on rare occasions and due to my astonishing good nature, respond to sarcasm with sarcasm. You are not permitted to lead with it. Give me a damn cookie." "They're coconut crunchies. You hate coconut." "Then why did you buy coconut?" "To piss you off." Grinning now, Peabody pulled another pack of cookies from her bag. "Then I bought chocolate chip, just for you." "Well, hand them over then." "Okay, so ..." Peabody ripped open the second pack, offered Eve a cookie. "Anyway, McNab's got a little, bitty butt, and hardly any shoulders. Still -- " "Stop. Stop right there. If I get an image of a naked McNab in my head, you're going back to traffic detail." Peabody munched, hummed, waited. "Damn it! There he is." Hooting with laughter, Peabody polished off the last cookie. "Sorry. Dallas, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Kinda cute, isn't he?

Better to be tried by twelve than carried by six.

Anybody who says he’s not scared is either a liar or mentally deficient.

Arab terrorist, international hitman, it's all a bit Andy McNab, isn't it?

That said, I don’t really understand the point of the royal princes joining the army. Why send a couple of pampered party boys like Harry or William in to fight? In a war you need a ruthless, merciless killing machine, someone like Andy McNab, or Prince Philip. Prince Philip is the perfect soldier: he likes shooting things and he’s a racist. He’d kill his own daughter-in-law if he thought he could get away with it.

I don’t like to think of her as pretend Peabody anymore. The more we find out, the meaner and crazier she gets. It’s like it’s bad enough fake Peabody got murdered, but now fake Peabody is a dead, blackmailing asshole on top of it. It’s depressing.” “Yeah, it’s all really too bad for you.” “Well, it kind of is. How am I supposed to enjoy the vid now, when I’ll be thinking how behind the scenes I was trying to blackmail McNab into bed, and the whole time he’s in love with you? And that maybe there’s a vid of the two of you all naked and sexy and—” “Stop right there before I boot.” “Hey! Maybe there’s a vid of fake Peabody and fake Roarke all naked and sexy. That would definitely make up for it. Maybe I can get a copy.” “There’s going to be a vid of me tearing strips off your ass then using them to wallpaper my office. I’ll make copies for everybody. Get Marlo down here. I’ll start on Julian.

It wasn’t just Shoyo or McNab or Texarkana; it was America, lying here like a huge discarded tin can with a few forgotten peas rolling around in the bottom. And beyond America was the whole world, and thinking of that made Nick feel so dizzy and sick that he had to give up.

I have the strong impression that scientific communication is being seriously hindered by poor quality abstracts written in jargon- ridden mumbo jumbo.

I’m not going to be pushed around by some Oswald Mosley wannabe with delusions of grandeur.

They were prepared physically and mentally for war. They’d all had at least nine lives, and had the burns, the dents, the bullet holes and the knife wounds to prove it.

Carpe diem!

I love McNab." Even as she turned toward Peabody, Eve could feel the muscle under her right eye vibrating toward a twitch. "Oh man. Do you have to do this?" "Yeah. I love McNab," Peabody repeated. "It took me a while to realize it, or get there, however it works. But he's the one. If you were to drop down dead, and Roarke decided I could comfort him with wild sex I probably wouldn't do it. Probably. But even if I did, I'd still love McNab." "At least I'm dead in your sexual fantasy." "It's only fair. I wouldn't cheat on my partner. So I probably wouldn't have sex with Roarke, should the opportunity arise, unless both you and McNab were killed in a freak accident." "Thanks, Peabody. I feel a lot better now." ''And we'd probably wait a decent interval. Like two weeks. If we could control ourselves." "It just gets better and better," Eve remarked. "In a way, we'd really be celebrating your lives, and our love for you both." "Maybe you're the ones who die in a freak accident," Eve tossed back. "Then me and McNab... No, Jesus. No." She visibly shuddered. "I don't love you that much." "Aw, that's not very nice. Too bad for you, because McNab's an airjack in the sack." "Shut up now. Save yourself.

If you're dizzy at all, sit down. Just sit down wherever you are. It's better than falling. Range of motion in the shoulder?" Eve demonstrated it by raising her arms and scrubbing shampoo into her hair. "Hip?" Eve wiggled her butt and made Louise laugh. "Glad to see you're feeling frisky." "That wasn't frisky. I was mooning you, which is supposed to be insulting." "But you have such a cute little butt." "So I've always said," Roarke added. "Jesus, are you still in here? Go away, everybody go away." She flipped back her hair, turned, and let out a thin scream when Peabody walked in. "Hey! How're you feeling?" "Naked. I'm feeling naked and very crowded." "The face doesn't look half-bad." Peabody looked around. "She's in here, McNab, doing a lot better." "He comes in here," Eve said ominously, "and somebody's going to die.

He’d been expelled from the movement by Gerry Adams in 1985 for threatening to initiate a campaign of murder that would have hampered the new political strategy. It was a bit like being kicked out of the Gestapo for cruelty.

Yes’ – Pearce nodded – ‘but I don’t think Bale was. Lots of big words were used and he struggles beyond two syllables.’ ‘I’m not sure what’s more surprising,’ said Biggs. ‘That you were listening, or that you just used the word syllables.

Artık ev bomboştu, kapılar kilitlenmiş, şilteler bükülüp kaldırılmıştı, o başıboş ezgiler, kocaman orduların o ileri karakolları, uğuldayarak içeri saldırıyor, çıplak tahtaları silip süpürüyor, onu bunu kemirip savuruyorlardı, ne yatak odasında, ne de oturma odasında kendilerine doğru dürüst karşıkoyan hiçbir şeye rastlamıyorlardı, karşılarında yalnız, sallanan perdeler, gıcırdayan tahtalar, çıplak masa bacakları, paslanmış, kararmış, çatlayıp kırılmış birkaç tencere ile çini fincan ve tabaktan başka bir şey yoktu. Ev halkının döküp saçarak bırakıp gittiği şeyler — bir çift ayakkabı, bir avcı kasketi, solmuş birkaç eteklik, gar-droplarda kalan pardesü ve ceketler — yalnız bunlar insan biçimlerini sürdürüyorlardı ve bu boşluk içinde bir zamanlar onların içini dolduran, onları canlandıran insanlar olduğunu belli ediyorlardı; bir zamanlar bu ilikler ve düğmeler üzerinde insan elleri dolaşmıştı; bir zamanlar şu aynaya bir yüz yansımıştı; bir zamanlar bu aynaya bir dünya çizilmiş, orada bir insan kıpırdamış, bir el görünüp kaybolmuş, kapı açılmış, itişe kakışa çocuklar içeri dolmuşlar, sonra yine çıkıp gitmişlerdi. Şimdi her gün, ışık, tıpkı suya yansıyan bir çiçek gibi, karşı duvara vuruyor, orada pırıltıyla deviniyordu. Bu duvarda yalnız rüzgârın önünde çalımla sallanan ağaçların gölgeleri saygı ile eğiliyor, ışığın,içinde kendini yansıttığı bu gölü bir an için karartıyorlardı; bazen de uçan kuşlar, yatak odasının döşemesinde, hafifçe çırpınarak geçen yumuşak bir leke bırakıyorlardı. Böylece güzellikle sessizlik, yanyana saltanat sürüyor, ikisi birlikte güzellik denen şeyin şeklini oluşturuyorlardı, içinden yaşamın çıkıp gittiği bir şey, bir kalıp; bu, akşamüzeri tren penceresinden ta uzaklarda seçilen ıssız bir gölcük gibidir; öylesine çabuk görünüp kaybolur ki akşam alacalığında ona böyle bir kez göz değmiş de olsa, yalnızlığından, ıssızlığından bir şey yitirmez. Güzellikle sessizlik yatak odasında elele vermişlerdi ve sarılıp sarmalanmış sürahiler ve örtü geçirilmiş koltuklar arasında rüzgârın merakla dolaşması, o ıslak deniz havalarının, ezgilerinin yumuşak burunlarını oraya buraya sürtüp, vızıldanarak, dönüp dolaşıp o sorularını — «Solup gidecek misiniz? Yok mu olacaksınız?» sorularını — yineleyip durmaları bile bu dirliği, bu kayıtsızlığı, bu yalın bütünlük havasını bozamıyordu; sorulan soruyu, «Biz kalacağız,» diye yanıtlamalarına gerek bile yoktu sanki. Hiçbir şey bu imgeyi bozamayacak, bu arılığı kirletemeyecek, ya da salınarak her şeyi kaplayan sessizliğin örtüsünü kımıldatamayacak gibiydi; bu sessizlik, haftadan haftaya, kuşların yankılanan çığlıklarını, vapurların düdük sesini, tarlaların vızıltı ve uğultusunu, bir köpeğin havlamasını, bir insanın haykırışını bu boş odada kendi dokusu içine alıp örüyor, sonra hepsiyle sessizce evi sarıp sarmalıyordu. Yalnız bir kez merdiven başında bir tahta yerinden fırladı; bir kez, tam geceyarısı nasıl bir kaya, yüzyıllarca durup durup da sonra birden yerinden kopar ve olanca hızıyla oraya buraya çarpa çarpa aşağıya düze yuvarlanırsa, tıpkı öyle bir gümbürtü ve öyle bir kopuşla şalın bir katı kurtulup sarktı, sallanmaya başladı. Sonra yine sessizlik çöktü; gölgeler yine eskisi gibi dalgalanmaya ışık yine yatak odasının duvarında kendi görüntüsünü hayranlıkla izlemeye koyuldu; sonunda Mrs. McNab aldığı buyruk üzerine tüm pencereleri açmaya, yatak odalarının tozunu kirini temizlemeye gelerek, çamaşır teknesinden çıkmayan o ellerle bu sessizlik perdesini yırttı, çatır çatır, çakılları çiğneyip geçen o potinlerle bu sessizliği ufalayıp öğüttü, ezdi.

Harvard University biologist David Haig has spent the last few years systematically debunking the notion that the relationship between a mother and her unborn child is anything like the rose-tinted idyll that one usually finds on the glossy covers of maternity magazines. In fact, it is anything but. Pre-eclampsia, a condition of dangerously high blood pressure in pregnant women, is brutally kick-started by nothing short of a foetal coup d’état. It begins with the placenta invading the maternal bloodstream and initiating what, in anyone’s book, is a ruthless biological heist – an in utero sting operation to draw out vital nutrients. And I’m not just talking about baby Gordon Gekkos here – I’m talking about all of us. The curtain-raiser is well known to obstetricians. The foetus begins by injecting a crucial protein into the mother’s circulation which forces her to drive more blood, and therefore more nourishment, into the relatively low-pressure placenta. It’s a scam, pure and simple, which poses a significant and immediate risk to the mother’s life. ‘The bastard!’ says Andy. ‘Shall we get some olives?’ ‘And it’s by no means the only one,’ I continue. In another embryonic Ponzi scheme, foetal release of placental lactogen counteracts the effect of maternal insulin thereby increasing the mother’s blood sugar level and providing an excess for the foetus’s own benefit. ‘A bowl of the citrus and chilli and a bowl of the sweet pepper and basil,’ Andy says to the waiter. Then he peers at me over the menu. ‘So basically what you’re saying then is this: forget the Gaddafis and the Husseins. When it comes to chemical warfare it’s the unborn child that’s top dog!’ ‘Well they definitely nick stuff that isn’t theirs,’ I say. ‘And they don’t give a damn about the consequences.’ Andy smiles. ‘So in other words they’re psychopaths!’ he says. BABY

how

Clay smashed the butt of his revolver into the werewolf’s snout. It laughed again, only it wasn’t the sound of an animal trying to form human words, but a familiar cackle that chilled Clay to his bones. Intelligence cooled in black eyes, snuffing out the feral rage that had once burned brightly. Jaw muscles moved mechanically, strings pulled from an unseen place. “Hello, McNab,” the voice of a woman crooned. “It’s good to see you. Everything has become so much more interesting. Who will you fail this time, I wonder?” The werewolf dropped with a thud, wisps of gun smoke rising from its head. Clay stood over it and drove his boot into the face again and again. He didn’t stop until the body was mangled beyond recognition, a sponge to soak up the fury flaring inside his heart.

If his iPhone rings, he could be fucked. We

airport at Genoa, or the one at Pisa’s about a hundred

The Omanis had feasts called haflas where they’d bring a goat in and cook it in the fire. It was always a fantastic gathering. They’d turn up in their Land Cruisers in the middle of nowhere, put the carpets out, and start a fire up. Sometimes they’d tow in a small water bowser as well. There was a huge amount of ritual involved; the animal was treated with immense respect before it was killed, in accordance with Islam.

landing strip.

newly purchased herbal teabags

Marketing often has a central role in all aspects of customer profitability implementation management, because understanding the economic relationship between customers and company is close to the essence of the Marketer’s role.

We certainly wouldn’t practise carrying it now: that would be a bit like practising being wet, cold and hungry, which wouldn’t achieve anything.

In most companies, the best project management skills are found in the IT department, because they work on a project basis all the time.

McNab pranced in on plaid airboots,

on the back. ‘Excellent.’ Mr Mudge crossed his arms. ‘So, at recess, you can polish the lawn bowls. At lunch, report to Mrs Trundle. There are quite a few things that need doing around her office. I’m sure she’ll find a use for you.’ ‘No problem, Mr Mudge.’ Mr Mudge waved them past. ‘Now, straight to class.’ They set off again, moving quickly this time, with Mudge bringing up the rear. ‘Good one, Warner,’ Sunil whispered in Davey’s ear as they approached the classroom. ‘What a crazy idea! Who’d have thought you’d pull it off?’ Davey rolled his eyes. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Deep.’ ‘Now, we’ve just got to get McNab out of his dancing thing,’ Sunil muttered. ‘Wonder what Pepi’s other idea was?

to create

tablecloth. ‘He let me leave early. Stomach pains … I might have

Hey, here come our ladies. Just looking at them gives you the uh, doesn’t it?” McNab gave the sound a push that was unmistakably sexual as he grinned down the long corridor where Peabody got off the glide with Eve. Then he shot Roarke a quick look. “I mean the uh me for mine, you for yours. It’s not like I get the uh for the lieutenant, for which she would kick my ass, then leave you to turn what was left of it into bloody dust. Which She-Body would then grind into the earth before she set it on fire. I was just saying.” “I know what you were saying.” McNab could, invariably, entertain him. “And I couldn’t agree more, with everything including the bloody dust. They are compelling women.

Maniac Magee was blind. Sort of. "Oh, he could see objects, all right. He could see a flying football or a John McNab fastball better than anybody... "When you think about it, it's amazing all the stuff he didn't see. "Such as, big kids don't like little kids showing them up... "Or a kid who's another color. "Mania kept trying, but he still couldn't see it, this color business. He didn't figure he was white any more than the East Enders were black. He looked himself over pretty hard and came up with at least seven different shades and colors right on his own skin, not one of them being what he would call white... "Which was all a big relief to Maniac, finding out he wasn't really white, because the way he figured, white was about the most boring color of all." - Jerry Spinelli, Maniac Magee

The first serious steps were taken in 2004 with the Future Handgun System (FHS) program,

As of 11 March 2013, Response Date has been modified FROM: 11 March 2013 TO: 29 March 2013.

LEOs miss between 70–80 percent of the shots fired during a shooting incident.

AK-47.

Fergus had chosen the base camp carefully. He was always careful. Being careful had kept him alive during his twelve years in the Regiment and now that he was operating alone nothing was going to change.

Eve yanked out her communicator. “Peabody, get an E and B team to the Empire State Building, another to the Twin Towers, one more to the Statue of Liberty. You and McNab cover the Empire State, get Feeney down to the Towers.

That photo’s been called an icon of the Sixties. I suppose it is. I think the reason it became so popular is its simplicity. It’s a very simple, stylised shot. Also it’s a shot people can relate to. It’s a place where people can still walk.

By 1.15 a.m. all four Beatles headed out of EMI Studios into the light rain, each of them naturally unaware they were crossing a borderline. This was the last time all four would each be together at the same time inside a recording studio. Musically speaking, 20 August was the day when The Beatles as a band faded out of time but not out of memory.

stop for a one-shot camera. Twenty-

She snuck in another stroke. “Was it a just-because? I love just-because presents the best. Last month McNab gave me the cutest pair of earrings—like chains of hearts—just because. You know a guy’s stuck on you if he springs for just-because jewelry of any kind.

The 9 × 19mm cartridge, often referred to as the 9mm Parabellum,

with options for 17- and 33-round mags

The key visual distinction between the drop and none-drop magazines is that the former have a square-edged U-shaped notch at the rear of the feed lips, whereas the notch on the latter is a smooth U-shape.

subcompact” models, ultra-portable and discrete weapons such as the G26 and G39.

Yet the 9mm is also one of the weaker cartridges in terms of terminal ballistics.

I made what must have been about a sixty-point turn and eventually managed to squeeze out of the small and crowded car park at the rear