alistairmaclean.nightwithoutend-第43部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！


；　if　you're　really　stuck　on　that　kid　you'd　never…〃
　
　〃Shut　up！〃　I　said　savagely。　I　grabbed　acoil　of　rope；　picked　up　my　rifle　and　went　on　brutally：　〃If　you　think　they'd　ever　let　your　father　e　out　of　this　alive　you　must　be　crazy。〃
　
　A　second　later　I　was　on　my　way；　plunging　out　into　the　open　across　the　narrow　thirty…yard　stretch　of　ice　that　led　into　the　first　of　the　fissures；　wincing　and　ducking　involuntarily　as　the　first　。303　shell　from　Jackstraw's　rifle　screamed　past　me；　only　feet　to　my　right；　and　smashed　through　the　hood　of　the　Citroen　and　into　the　engine　with　all　the　metallic　clamour；　the　vicious　power　of　a　sledge…hammer　wielded　by　some　giant　hand。　But　still　the　Citroen　came　on。
　
　I　leapt　across　a　narrow　crevasse；　steadied　myself；　glanced　back　for　a　moment；　saw　that　Hillcrest；　Joss；　Zagero　and　a　couple　of　Hillcrest's　men　were　following；　then　rushed　on　again；　weaving　and　twisting　my　way　through　the　cracks　and　mounds　in　the　ice。　What　was　Zagero　doing　there；　I　asked　myself　angrily？　Unarmed；　with　two　useless　hands　that　could　hold　no　firearm；　he　was　nothing　but　a　liability；　what　could　any　man　do　with　ruined　hands　like　those？　I　was　to　find　out　just　what　a　man　with　ruined　hands　could　do。　。。。
　
　We　were　running　straight　across　the　narrowest　neck　of　the　glacier　making　straight　for　the　spot　where　the　tractor　would　arrive　if　it　survived　Jackstraw's　attempts　to　halt　it：　Jackstraw　was　firing　in　a　line　well　above　us　now；　but　we　could　still　hear　the　thin　high　whine　of　every　bullet；　the　metallic　crash　as　it　struck　the　Citroen。　Every　bullet　went　home。　But　that　engine　was　incredibly　tough。
　
　We　were　about　half…way　across　when　we　heard　the　engine　change　gear；　the　high　unmistakable　whine　of　the　tractor　beginning　to　overrun　its　engine。　Corazzini…I　could　clearly　see　him　now；　even　without　the　aid　of　binoculars…must　have　found　himself　losing　control　on　the　steepening　slope　and　was　using　the　engine　to　brake　the　Citroen。　And　then；　when　we　were　less　than　a　hundred　yards　away　and　after　a　longer　than　usual　lull　in　the　firing　…Jackstraw　must　have　stopped　to　change　magazines…the　sixth　shell　smashed　through　the　riddled　hood　and　the　engine　stopped　as　abruptly　as　if　the　ignition　had　been　switched　off。
　
　The　tractor　stopped　too。　On　that　steep　slope　this　was　surprising；　the　last　thing　I　would　have　expected；　but　there　was　no　doubt　that　not　only　had　it　stopped　but　that　it　had　been　stopped　deliberately：　there　was　no　mistaking　the　high…pitched　screech　of　those　worn　brakes。
　
　And　then　I　could　see　the　reason　why。　There　was　some　violent　activity　taking　place　in　the　driving　cabin　of　the　tractor；　and　as　we　neared…a　maddeningly　slow　process；　there　were　dozens　of　crevasses　to　be　jumped；　as　many　more　to　be　skirted…we　could　see　what　it　was。　Corazzini　and　Solly　Levin　were　struggling　furiously；　and；　from　thirty　or　forty　yards；　it　seemed；　incredibly　enough；　that　Solly　Levin　was　getting　the　better　of　it。　He　had　flung　himself　pletely　on　top　of　Corazzini　where　the　latter　sat　behind　the　wheel；　and　was　butting　him　savagely　in　the　face　with　the　top　of　his　bald　head；　and　Corazzini；　trapped　in　the　narrow　space；　could　find　no　room　to　make　use　of　his　much　greater　strength。
　
　Then；　abruptly；　the　door　on　the　driver's　side　burst　open…we　could　see　it　clearly；　having　been　lower　down　than　the　tractor　when　it　had　stopped　we　were　approaching　it　now　almost　head　on…and　the　two　men　fell　out　fighting　and　struggling　furiously。　We　could　see　now　why　Levin　had　been　using　his　head…both　hands　were　bound　behind　his　back。　It　had　been　an　act　of　desperate　courage　to　attack　Corazzini　in　the　first　place；　but　the　old　man　wasn't　to　get　the　reward　he　deserved　for　his　selflessness：　even　as　we　came　up　to　them　Corazzini　got　his　automatic　clear　and　fired　down　point…blank　at　Solly　Levin　who　was　lying　helplessly　on　his　back　but　still　gamely　trying　to　get　a　leg　lock　on　the　bigger　man。　I　was　a　split　second　too　late　in　getting　there；　even　as　I　crashed　into　Corazzini　and　sent　his　automatic　flying　away　to　slide　down　the　glacier；　I　knew　I　was　too　late；　Solly　Levin　was　a　crumpled　little　blood…stained　figure　lying　on　the　ice　even　before　Corazzini's　gun　went　slithering　over　the　edge　of　a　crevasse。　And　then　I　felt　myself　being　pushed　to　one　side；　and　Johnny　Zagero　was　staring　down　at　the　outspread　stillness　of　the　man　huddled　at　his　feet。　For　what　seemed　an　eternity；　but　was　probably　no　more　than　three　seconds；　he　stood　there　without　moving；　then　when　he　turned　to　Corazzini　his　face　was　empty　of　all　expression。
　
　It　might　have　been　a　flash　of　fear；　of　realisation　that　he　had　e　to　the　end　of　his　road　that　I　saw　in　Corazzini's　eyes；　but　I　could　never　swear　to　it；　the　turn　of　his　head；　the　sudden　headlong　dash　for　the　shelter　of　the　ice…covered　moraine　rocks　by　the　side　of　the　glacier；　ten　yards　away；　were　so　swift　that　I　could　be　certain　of　nothing。　But　swift　as　he　was；　Zagero　was　even　swifter：　he　caught　Corazzini　before　he　had　covered　four　yards　and　they　crashed　to　the　glacier　together；　clawing；　punching　and　kicking　in　the　grim　desperate　silence　of　men　who　know　that　the　winner's　prize　is　his　life。
　
　〃Drop　that　gun！〃　I　whirled　round　at　the　sound　of　the　voice　behind　me；　but　all　I　could　see　at　first　was　the　white　strained　face　of　Margaret　Ross；　the　brown　eyes　dulled　with　sickness　and　fear。　Involuntarily　I　brought　up　the　rifle　in　my　hands。
　
　〃Drop　it！〃　Smallwood's　voice　was　curt；　deadly；　his　face　barely　visible　behind　Margaret's　shoulder　as　he　peered　out　through　the　canvas　screen　at　the　rear　of　the　tractor　cabin。　He　was　pletely　shielded　by　her　body…it　was　typical　of　the　man's　cunning；　his　ice…cold　calculation　that　he　should　have　waited　until　our　attention　was　pletely　distracted　before　making　his　move。　〃And　your　friend。　Quickly　now！〃
　
　I　hesitated；　glanced　at　Hillcrest…the　only　other…man　with　a　weapon…to　see　how　he　was　placed；　then　jerked　my　head　back　again　as　there　came　a　sudden　plop　from　the　silenced　automatic　and　a　sharp　cry　of　pain　from　Margaret。　She　was　clutching　her　left　arm　just　below　the　elbow。
　
　〃Quickly；　I　said！　The　next　one　goes　through　her　shoulder。〃　His　voice　was　soft　with　menace；　his　face　implacable。　Not　for　a　moment　did　I　doubt　that　he　would　do　exactly　as　he　said：　the　clatter　of　Hillcrest's　rifle　and　mine　falling　on　the　ice　came　in　the　same　instant。
　
　〃Now　kick　them　over　the　edge　of　that　crevasse。〃
　
　We　did　as　he　said　and　stood　there　powerless　to　do　anything　except　watch　the　savage；　mauling　fight　on　the　glacier。　Neither　man　had　regained　his　feet　since　the　struggle　had　begun；　the　ice　was　too　slippery　for　that；　and　still　they　rolled　over　and　over　first　one　on　top；　now　the　other。　Both　were　powerful　men；　but　Zagero　was　severely　handicapped　by　the　exhaustion　of　the　terrible　night's　march　that　lay　behind　him；　by　his　crippled　useless　hands；　by　thickly…swathed　bandages　over　his　hands　that　not　only　prevented　him　from　catching　or　holding　Corazzini　but　softened　the　impact　of　every　blow　he　struck。　For　all　that；　there　was　no　question　how　the　battle　was　going：　those　broken　hands　I'd　said　would　never　fight　again　were　clubbing　and　hammering　the　life　out　of　Corazzini。　I　thought　of　the　tremendous　force　with　which　I'd　seen　Zagero　strike　a　blow　only　the　previous　morning　and　felt　a　momentary　flash　of　pity　for　Corazzini：　then　I　remembered　he　was　just　as　Smallwood　was；　that　Smallwood　was　prepared　to　kill　Margaret　with　as　little　punction　as　he　would　snuff　out　the　life　of　a　fly；　I　looked　at　the　crumpled　figure　at　my　feet　and　every　shadow　of　pity　vanished　as　if　it　had　never　been。
　
　Smallwood；　his　eyes　unblinking；　his　face　expressionless　as　ever；　had　his　gun　on　them　all　the　time；　waiting　for　that　second　when　the　two　men　would　break　far　enough　apart　to　give　him　a　clear　sight　of　Zagero。　But；　now；　Zagero　was　underneath　nearly　all　the　time；　one　arm　crooked　round　Corazzini's　neck　while　the　other　delivered　a　murderous　series　of　short…arm　jabs；　each　one　drawing　a　grunting　gasp　of　agony　from　a　white…faced　Corazzini：　finally；　goaded　into　supreme　effort　by　panic　and　fear；　Corazzini　managed　to　break　loose　and　hurled　himself　not　towards　Smallwood；　where　safety　lay；　but　for　the　shelter　of　the　moraine　rocks；　where　he　would　never　know　safety　again。　Zagero；　cat…like　as　ever；　was　only　feet　behind　him；　moving　so　fast；　so　unexpectedly　that　Smallwood's　swift　snapshot　missed　him　altogether。
　
　〃Call　your　friend　Nielsen。〃　Smallwood　must　have　realised　how　things　were　going　behind　the　concealing　shelter　of　the　rocks　for　his　voice　was　suddenly　savage；　urgent。　He　spared　a　swift　glance　in　Jackstraw's　direction…Jackstraw；　followed　at　some　distance　by　two　more　of　Hillcrest's　crew；　was　crossing　the　glacier　at　a　dead　run　and　now　less　than　fifty　yards　away。　〃His　rifle。　In　a　crevasse。　Quickly！〃
　
　〃Jackstraw！〃　My　voice　was　hoarse；　cracked。　〃Throw　your　rifle　away！　He's　got　a　gun　on　Miss　Ross；　and　he's　going　to　kill　her。〃　Jackstraw　braked；　slipped　on　the　ice；　halted　and　stood　there　for　a　moment　irresolute；　and　then　at　my　repeated　desperate　cry　carefully；　deliberately　dropped　his　rifle　into　a　nearby　fissure　and　came　slowly　on　to　join　us。　It　was　at　that　moment　that　Hillcrest　grabbed　me　by　the　arm。
　
　〃He's　moving；　Mason！　He's　alive！〃　He　was　pointing　down　to　Levin；　who　was　indeed　stirring　slightly。　I　had　never　thought　to　examine　Levin；　it　had　seemed　a　ludicrous　idea　that　a　professional　like　Corazzini　could　have　missed　at　such　point…blank　range；　but　now；　regardless　of　Smallwood's　reaction；　I　dropped　to　my　knees　on　the　glacier　and　put　my　face　close　to　Levin's。　Hillcrest　was　right。　The　breathing　was　shallow；　but　breathing　there　undoubtedly　was；　and　now　I　could　see　the　thin　red　line　that　extended　from　the　temple　almost　to　the　back　of　the　head。　I　rose　to　my　feet。
　
　〃Creased；　concussed　probably；　that's　all。〃　Involuntarily　I　glanced　over　my　shoulder　towards　the　rocks。　〃But　too　late　now　for　Corazzini。〃
　
　And　I　needed　no　eyes　to　know　that　this　was　so。　The　unseen　battle　behind　the　rocks　had　been　fought　out　with　a　dumb　feral　ferocity；　with　a　silent　savagery　that　had　been　far　more　frightening　than　all　the　most　maddened　oaths　and　shouting　could　ever　have　been；　but　even　now；　as　Smallwood　jumped　down　from　the　tailboard　of　the　tractor　cabin；　Margaret　Ross　still　held　in　front　of　him；　and　started　hustling　her　towards　the　rocks；　a　hoarse　high…pitched　scream　that　raised　the　hackles　on　the　back　of　my　neck　froze　us　all；　even　Smallwood；　to　immobility：　and　then　came　a　long　quavering　moan　of　agony；　cut　off　as　abruptly　as　it　had　begun。　And　now　there　was　no　more　screaming　or　moaning；　no　more　slipping　of　feet　on　ice；　no　more　gasping　or　frenzied　flurries　bespeaking　the　interchange　of　desperate　blows：　there　was　only　silence；　a　silence　chillingly　broken　by　regular　rhythmic　pounding　blows　like　the　stamping　feet　of　a　pile…driver。
　
　Smallwood　had　recovered；　had　just　reached　the　rocks　when　Zagero　came　out　to　meet　him　face　to　face。　Smallwood　moved　to　one　side；　his　gun　covering　him；　as　Zagero　came　slowly　towards　us；　his　face　cut　and　bruised；　his　blood…saturated　bandaged　hands　hanging　by　his　sides；　with　two　long　ribbons　of　red…stained　bandage　trailing　on　the　ice　behind　him。
　
　〃Finished？〃　I　asked。
　
　〃Finished。〃
　
　〃Good；〃　I　said；　and　meant　it。　〃Your　father's　still　alive；　Johnny。　Scalp　wound；　that's　all。〃
　
　His　battered