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Anglais > Français : Un Thriller, 65224 mots source

traduction anglais vers francais d'un Thriller, 65224 mots source

Exemple du texte :
Dan Nichols had only made one mistake; the trouble was that it was a big one. That was why he was living abroad, why he was wanted by the police and why he’d sworn he'd never do anything bent again. But the turbulent river of life has bewildering twists and eddies. Dan found himself having to compete with Russian oligarchs. So it was no surprise to anyone that it nearly killed him.
The morning it started the hills behind Nice lay purple in the haze and the streetlights still twinkled around the curve of the bay. Dan was jogging along the Promenade des Anglais for when worry kept him awake he cut the night short and ran, frayed Nikes slapping the paving as the palms drooped in the cool dawn air. It was hard to worry when your big concern was just breathing. Big changes were coming and he didn't know how or if he could handle them. But at least this way he'd be in shape when they arrived.
Money isn't everything, he told himself, but frankly sometimes in the south of France it was hard to believe.
He took a last look at sunrise painting the Mediterranean pink, the green waves licking the beach clean and turned inland. He jogged past closed department stores, few cars on the streets yet, and grinned at his reflection in a store window. He was in his fifties, a little thickened by age, T-shirt patched with sweat. Not bad in a rough diamond sort of way.
He'd sold his Audi and one of his apartments. The way things were going the place he lived in now would have to go soon.
A smell of fresh croissants wafted from a boulangerie and he slowed to a walk, turned into his street, a narrow canyon of shadows, parked cars, and shuttered Vietnamese restaurants. A silver Bentley convertible pulled to the curb ahead of him, its metallic finish glittering as if it had just left the showroom. Somebody was doing all right.
As Dan walked past the car window whispered down. He glanced in and his heart missed a beat.
"Long time no see, Dan," said the man behind the wheel. He had a lean face ravaged by excess; it contrasted oddly with his expertly cut hair and expensive groomed look.
"Razzer!" Dan said, hidinge his surprise. "So, how you doing?"
"Snazzier house, snazzier car, snazzier woman," Razzer said. "How about you?"
Dan shrugged.
Razzer glanced around the narrow untidy street. "Not exactly the lap of luxury, huh?" he said.
"I get by," Dan said. "So, to what do I owe the honor?"

In the steam filled bathroom Dan toweled himself, wiped mist from the mirror and glanced at his reflection, dark hair now peppered with gray, lines around his eyes that said he liked to laugh a lot. He pulled the towel around him and snuck over to the door, opened it a fraction and squinted through. In the living room Razzer was mooching around, handmade Italian shoes shining like chestnuts, his light gray suit and lilac tie whispering money. Dan watched him as he picked up a photograph of Alice his nine-year old daughter, then put it down and picked up a photo of motocross riders.
Dan pulled on clean tracksuit pants and a T-shirt and glanced into the living room again. Razzer was at his table, flipping through a volume of Shakespeare and wrinkling his nose in distaste, he fingered the Post-It notes that peeked from other books. It feels like watching yourself being burgled, Dan thought.
He bustled into the room, toweling his hair, his face feeling rosy from the shower.
Razzer snapped shut a book. "You still ride?" he said.
"Sometimes, weekends," Dan said. "Just to keep my hand in."
Razzer gingerly sat on the worn sofa and Dan sank into a battered armchair, brushing his hair with his fingers. "So, what's all this about school holidays?” he said. “Didn't know you had kids."
"I don't. But the French do," Razzer said. “They give 'em long vacations every summer."
"I know," Dan said. “Les vacances scolaires. There's a mass exodus and the roads are choked."
"How's your daughter, by the way?" Razzer asked.
"Alice? She's nine now. Great kid."
"Must be difficult, you being separated like that?"
"Since you and I last worked together, I don't have much choice, do I?" Dan said, finding it hard to keep an edge out of his voice.
"True..." Razzer said. "Where was I?"
"Something about school holidays."
"Oh yeah," Razzer said. "So parents go on holiday with their kids.” As he moved his hand his diamond signet ring glinted. “And there's a last minute rush to buy everything. All the shopping malls, sports stores and supermarkets do bumper business."
"Cut to the chase," Dan said.
"Well, there's a lot of cash around," Razzer said. "And the security companies are short staffed because their employees want to holiday with their kids too."
"So they make do with what they've got?" Dan said.
Razzer nodded. "Exactly. One company I know of, instead of taking all the collected cash to a central bank as usual, it empties their vans into one centrally parked armored truck. Then it sends the vans off again to make more collections." He beamed and said, "So just after that first holiday weekend, there's one armored truck crammed with the cash that would normally be carried by ten."
He looked at Dan expectantly but Dan said nothing. "Interesting, don't you think?"
"Sure," Dan said without interest. "But stickups have a nasty way of going wrong."
"Exactly. That's why I thought of you."
"Me?"
"Chemistry, creative thinking, and all that. You're good at that stuff. And you speak the lingo."
"Listen Razzer," Dan said. "I live abroad not because I want to - but because I have to." He glanced at his nails then said, "My last session of creative thinking with you cost me my marriage, my country and my ability to visit my young daughter.”
"Hey, but it gave you a whole slew of money didn't it? How many years it been?"
"Six."
"As long as that?" Razzer said. He glanced around the room, the diamonds on his watch face glinting in the light. "You must be running pretty low, huh?"
"Like they say," Dan said, "Money isn't everything."
"Come off it!" Razzer said, grinning. "People who say that either don't have any or don't know where to shop."
"Razzer," Dan said, “That one job with you taught me something. It showed me it's all too easy to get caught.” His eyes went to Alice’s photo, his books then back to Razzer. "I just don't get it,” he said. “With all you've got, why do you still keep taking risks?”

Specialization required

Arts/Entertainment

Language pair(s)

English > French

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