alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第41部分

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crest　snorted　in　disgust。　〃I　gather　its　hull　is　made　of　paper。〃
　
　〃It's　not　much　thicker…I've　served　in　destroyers。　I　don't　blame　him。　But　I'll　bet　his　trawler；　probably　a　specially　strengthened　job；　is　well　inside　the　fjord…and　a　submarine　no　great　distance　away。　Look；　this　is　all　we　can　do。〃　I　traced　my　finger　on　the　map。　〃We　must　parallel　the　glacier；　maybe　a　mile　away。　With　the　slope　of　the　valley　sides　Smallwood　won't　see　us；　and　with　his　own　engine　running　he　can't　hear　us。　Down　here…〃
　
　〃What's　to　stop　him　from　cutting　his　engine　now　and　again　to　listen？〃　Hillcrest　demanded。
　
　〃Because　what　Smallwood　and　Corazzini　don't　know　about　engines　would　fill　an　encyclopedia。　They'd　be　dead　scared　to　stop　it　in　case　they　couldn't　start　it　again。。　。　。　Down　here；　at　the　base　of　the　headland　separating　the　fjord　from　the　bay　to　the　south　…about　a　mile　from　the　end　of　the　glacier；　I　would　say…the　sides　of　the　glacier　valley　fall　away　and　level　off　into　the　plateau　on　either　side。　But　there's　bound　to　be　some　kind　of　moraine　or　shelter　there。　That's　where　we'll　ambush　them。〃
　
　〃Ambush？〃　He　frowned　at　me。　〃What's　the　difference　between　that　and　pursuing　them？　It'll　still　e　to　a　fight…and　they　can　still　hold　pistols　to　the　heads　of　Levin　and　the　stewardess；　and　bargain　from　there。〃
　
　〃There'll　be　no　fight；〃　I　said　quietly。　〃They've　been　following　the　left…hand　side　of　the　glacier　all　the　way　down；　I　see　no　reason　why　they　should　change。　They　should　e　into　sight　maybe　fifty　yards　from　where　we're　hiding…farther　out　on　the　glacier　the　going　is　impossible　for　tractors。〃　I　nodded　at　the　telescopic　sighted　。303　in　the　corner。　〃With　that　Jackstraw　can　hit　a　three…inch　target　at　a　hundred　yards。　A　man's　head　at　fifty　yards　is　six　times　that　size。　First　he　gets　Corazzini；　who's　probably　driving；　and　when　Smallwood　sticks　his　head　out　the　back　as　he　certainly　will…well　that's　it。〃
　
　〃But；　good　God；　man；　you　can't　do　that！〃　Hillcrest　was　horrified。　〃Without　a　chance；　without　warning？　It's　murder；　simple　murder！〃
　
　〃Want　me　to　go　over　the　number　of　people　they've　murdered？〃　I　shook　my　head。　〃You　just　don't　begin　to　know　those　two；　Hillcrest。〃
　
　〃But…〃　He　broke　off；　turned　to　Jackstraw。　〃It's　you　he's　asking　to　do　it。　What　do　you　say？〃　
　
　〃It　will　be　a　pleasure；〃　Jackstraw　said　very　softly。
　
　Hillcrest　stared　at　us　both；　baffled　inprehension　in　his　eyes。　I　suppose　he　thought　he　knew　both　of　us　well。　And　he　did。　But　he　didn't　know　what　we　had　been　through；　words　couldn't　even　begin　to　make　him　understand。　The　atmosphere　was　unfortable；　tense　even；　and　I　was　grateful　for　Joss's　sudden　calm　words。
　
　〃0943；　Captain　Hillcrest。　Three　minutes　to　go。〃
　
　〃Good。〃　He　was；　I　could　see；　as　glad　of　the　interruption　as　I　was。　〃Barclay〃…this　to　the　cook；　the　only　other　of　Hillcrest's　men　there；　the　other　three　were　in　the　big　driving　cabin　to　make　room　for　us…'three　Wessex　rockets。　Line　them　up　on　the　and　stand　wait　for　the　word。　I'll　go　myself　with　the　flare；　two　for　safety。　Give　a　beep　on　the　horn；　Joss；　when　it's　time　to　set　'em　off。〃
　
　I　went　with　him　to　watch　and　the　whole　thing　went　off　without　a　hitch。　Dead　on　time；　just　seconds　after　the　third　rocket　had　been　fired　to　curve　upwards　and　explode　into　incandescent　light　in　the　star…dusted　darkness　above；　we　heard　the　high…pitched　whine　approaching　out　of　the　south…west；　and　in　an　incredibly　short　space　of　time　a　vague　dark　blur；　carrying　no　navigation　lights；　screamed　by　five　hundred　feet　overhead；　banked　in　the　distance；　came　at　us　again　at　much　reduced　speed；　banked　a　second　time　and　then；　with　a　crescendoing　banshee　shriek　of　the　jet　engine；　had　vanished　again　into　the　vaguely　lightening　darkness　to　the　south…east　before　we　had　realised　that　the　pilot　had　made　his　drop。　It　was　a　measure　of　his　plete　self…confidence　that　he　didn't　even　trouble　to　check　the　accuracy　of　his　drop：　but　for　a　man　skilled　in　landing　on　the　handkerchief…sized　flight　deck　of　a　carrier　in　the　middle　of　the　night　this　must　have　been　a　childishly　simple　exercise。
　
　There　were　two　packages；　not　one；　attached　not　to　parachutes　but　to　insignificant　little　drogues　that　seemed　to　let　them　fall　much　too　fast　for　safety：　they　landed　almost　together　not　forty　yards　from　the　magnesium　flares　and　with　such　force　that　I　was　sure　that　their　contents　must　be　smashed。　But　I　had　underestimated　the　Fleet　Air　Arm's　skill　and　experience　in　these　matters；　the　contents　were　so　beautifully　packed　and　cushioned　that　everything　was　pletely　intact。　The　packages　were　duplicated：　two　ampoules　of　insulin　and　three　hypodermic　syringes　in　each　package：　whoever　had　packed　these　had　been　taking　no　chances。　But　gratitude　was　the　last　thought　in　my　mind　at　that　moment：　I　just　tucked　the　boxes　under　my　arm　and　made　for　the　tractor　at　a　dead　run。
　
　For　close　on　two　hours　Hillcrest's　driver　pushed　the　big　Sno…Cat　along　at　its　maximum　speed；　and　despite　the　inherent　stability　afforded　by　its　four　wide　caterpillars；　the　tractor　swayed　and　lurched　in　terrifying　fashion。　This　was　bad　country；　this　was　crevasse　country；　and　we　had　been　forced　to　make　a　wide　detour　that　had　carried　us　more　than　three　miles　away　from　the　Kangalak　glacier。　And　once　again　Jackstraw's　big　Siberian　wolf　proved　how　invaluable　he　was：　running　tirelessly　ahead；　he　repeatedly　guided　the　Sno…Cat　away　from　dangerous　territory；　but　even　so　our　route　was　a　necessarily　devious　and　twisted　one；　though　the　picking　out　of　a　path　became　considerably　easier　after　the　pale　grey　light　of　the　arctic　noon　spread　across　the　ice…cap。
　
　For　all　of　us　it　was　a　time　of　tension；　of　an　ever…mounting　anxiety　that　reached　intolerable　proportions。　For　the　first　half…hour　or　so　I　was　busy　enough　in　broaching　the　tractor's　first…aid　kit　and　doing　what　doctoring　I　could　to　Mahler…a　Mahler　whose　dyspnoea　was　already　dramatically　easing…Marie　LeGarde；　Helene；　Jackstraw　and；　above　all；　to　Zagero's　shattered　hands。　Then　I　myself　submitted　to　Hillcrest's　rough　and　ready　ministrations；　but　after　that　there　was　nothing　for　me　to　do；　nothing　for　any　of　us　to　do　except　try　to　avoid　the　bitterness　of　thinking　what　must　happen　if　the　Citroen　reached　the　tongue　of　the　glacier　before　us。
　
　Suddenly；　exactly　on　noon；　the　tractor　stopped　abruptly。　We　jumped　out　to　see　what　the　matter　was；　and　it　became　apparent　soon　enough　the　driver　was　awaiting　instructions。　We　had　abruptly　rounded　the　humpback　of　the　last　ice　ridge　that　had　lain　between　us　and　the　glacier　itself。
　
　Even　in　the　half…light　of　the　arctic　day　the　panorama　suddenly　unfolded　before　us　was　a　breathtaking　one。　To　the　north；　the　ice…sheet　extended　all　the　way　down　to　the　coast；　forming　vertical　and　in　some　places　overhanging　cliffs；　the　well…known　phenomenon　of　the　Chinese　Wall　fronts：　nobody；　nothing；　could　hope　to　land　there。
　
　To　the　south　and　separated　from　the　fjord　by　the　mile…long　ridgeback　of　the　seaward…projecting　southern　wall　of　the　fjord；　was　a　wide　bay；　fringed　by　a　low；　ice…bare　rocky　coast；　quilted　here　and　there　with　drifts　of　snow　blown　off　the　ice…cap。　There；　if　anywhere；　was　where　we　would　have　to　leave。
　
　In　the　centre；　between　the　low　walls　of　the　fjord；　the　Kangalak　glacier　itself；　here；　at　its　tongue；　about　300　yards　wide；　ran　down　to　the　waters　of　the　fjord　in　a　great　dog…leg　curving　sharply　thirty　degrees　right　about　half…way　down　its　length；　ending　abruptly　with　its　upper　surface　a　hundred；　perhaps　a　hundred　and　fifty　feet　above　the　pack…ice…strewn　water　beneath。　For　the　first　half　of　its　length　the　tongue　of　the　glacier　sloped　fairly　sharply　from　right　to　left　down　to　the　nunataks；　crescent…fringed　by　the　debris　of　moraines；　that　thrust　up　through　the　ice　at　the　far　corner　of　the　dog…leg：　the　surface　of　the　glacier　was　a　nightmare　of　transverse　and　longitudinal　fissures；　some　of　them　anything　up　to　two　hundred　feet　deep；　great　gaping　chasms　fanged　with　seracs…the　irregular；　often　needle…pointed　ice　pinnacles　that　reached　up　between　the　walls　of　the　larger　crevasses。　Surely　Smallwood　could　never　be　so　desperate；　so　insane　as　to　drive　the　Citroen　out　on　that：　apart　from　the　fissures；　the　very　steepness　of　the　slope　downwards　and　to　the　left　would　be　enough　to　send　him　into　an　uncontrollable　slide。
　
　And　beyond　everything　lay　the　sea；　the　island…studded；　ice…filled　waters　of　Baffin　Bay。　Off…shore　there　was　a　mile…wide　belt　of　loose　pressure　ice…the　season　was　not　yet　far　enough　advanced　for　the　fantastic　shapes　it　would　assume　in　the　early　spring　…streaked　with　open；　ever…changing　leads　and　dotted　at　rare　intervals　with　small　icebergs…probably　ones　that　had　broken　off　from　the　east　coast；　drifted　south　round　Cape　Farewell　and　then　moved　north　again；　the　whole　half…lost；　unearthly；　and　impossibly；　weirdly；　continuously　altered　in　configuration　by　the　white　drifting　fog　that　hung　miasma…like　over　the　sea。
　
　But　two　things　there　were　that　were　not　lost：　two　ships。　The　one　to　the　south…west；　wraith…like　and　blurred　though　its　lines　were　through　the　swirling　mist；　was　quite　unmistakable；　that　raked　and　slender　silhouette　would　have　been　unmistakable　anywhere：　it　was　a　destroyer；　it　could　only　be　the　Wykenham；　moving　slowly；　cautiously　shorewards　through　the　ice…filled　waters　of　the　bay　to　our　left。　A　heart…warming；　immensely　reassuring　spectacle…or　it　should　have　been：　but　after　the　first　cursory　identifying　glance　I　lost　interest；　my　attention　was　taken　and　pletely　held　by　the　second　ship。
　
　I　couldn't　see　all　of　it；　most　of　its　hull　was　hidden　by　the　precipitous　end　of　the　glacier；　but　its　small　squat　bridge；　two　masts　and　broad；　bluff　seaward…pointing　bows　were　clearly　etched　against　the　mirror…calm　waters　of　the　head　of　the　fjord　and　the　sloping　ice…bare　rock　that　brushed　its　portside　fenders。　I　could　see　no　flag。　It　was　a　trawler；　unmistakably　so；　and　I　thought　grimly　that　it　must　have　been　a　very　special　trawler　indeed　to　have　battered　that　still…visible　path　through　the　ice…choked　mouth　of　the　fjord。
　
　My　gaze　moved　back　to　the　trawler　again　and　a　second　later　I　was　grabbing　Hillcrest's　binoculars　without　so　much　as　by　your　leave。　One　glance　was　enough；　even　in　that　shadowed　gloom　of　the　depth　of　the　fjord　I　could　see　all　I　wanted　to　see　by　the　grey　noon…light。　I　could　see　a　great　deal　more　than　I　wanted　to。　For　a　few　seconds　I　stood　stock…still　listening　desperately　for　the　sound　of　the　Citroen's　engines：　moments　later　I　was　in　the　tractor　cabin；　by　the　radio　table。
　
　〃Still　in　contact　with　the　Triton；　Joss？〃　He　nodded；　and　I　rushed　on：　〃Tell　them　there's　a　group　of　men　ing　ashore　from　a　trawler　in　the　Kangalak　Fjord。　Ten；　twelve；　I'm　not　sure。　And　I'm　not　sure　whether　they're　armed。　I'll　be　damned　surprised　if　they　aren't。　Tell　them　I'm　certain　they're　going　to　move　up　on　the　glacier。〃
　
　〃Now？〃
　
　〃Of　course！〃　I　snapped。　〃Send　a　message　immediately。　And…〃
　
　〃No。　I　meant　are　they　moving　up　the　glacier　now？〃
　
　〃Take　them　ten；　fifteen　minutes…the　fjord　walls　are　pretty　steep　and　it's　tricky　to　climb。。　。　。　After　that　ask　the　Wykenham　if　they　will　send　a　landing　party　ashore。　An　armed　party。　And　for　God's　sake　tell　them　it's　urgent。〃
　
　〃Will　they　get　here　in　time；　Doc？〃　Zagero　was　behind　me。　〃By　the　time　they　lower　a　boat；　row　ashor