The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur (бесплатные онлайн книги читаем полные .txt) 📗

space?"Nicholas wanted to know.

Jannie swivelled around in his seat and stared at him with astonishment.

"I suppose we could make a turn out to the west, through Gadaffi-land.

Of course, it would mean an extra seven hours' flying time, and we would

probably run out of fuel and end up making a forced landing somewhere

out there in the Sahara." He lifted an eyebrow at Nicholas. "Tell me, my

boy, what inspired that stupid question?"

"It was just a rare thought,'Nicholas said.

"Let it be not merely rare, but extinct," Jannie advised.

"I don't want to hear it asked again, ever."

Nicholas slapped his shoulder. "Put it out of your mind." When he went

back into the main hold, Sapper and Royan were sitting on two of the

fold-down bunks that were bolted to the main bulkhead. Royan's empty tea

mug stood on the deck at her feet. Nicholas sat down beside her, and she

reached up and touched the bloodstained dressing that covered his chin.

"You had better let me see to that." Her fingers were deft and cool on

his hot inflamed skin as she cleaned the T

stitches with an alcohol swab and then placed a fresh plaster over them.

Nicholas felt a strong twinge of guilt as he submitted to her

ministrations.

However, it was Sapper who was the first to show the effects of the

doped tea. He lay back gently and closed his eyes, then a soft snore

vibrated his lips. Minutes later Royan sagged drowsily against

Nicholas's shoulder. When she was fast asleep, he let her down gently

and lifted her feet up on to the bunk. He spread a rug over her. She did

not even stir, and he had a moment's doubt about the strength of the

tablets.

Then he kissed her forehead softly. "How could I ever hate you?" he

asked her softly. "Whatever you did."

He went into the lavatory and locked the door. He had plenty of time.

Sapper and Royan wouldn ot wake for hours yet, and Jannie and Fred were

happily ensconced on the flight'deck, listening to Dolly Parton tapes on

the audio system.

When at last he had finished, Nicholas glanced at his wrist-watch and

realized that it had taken him almost two hours, He closed the toilet

seat and washed his hands carefully. Then he took one last careful took

around the tiny cabin and unlocked the door.

Sapper and Royan were still fast asleep on the folddown bunks. He went

forward to the flight-deck, and Fred pulled his earphones down around

his neck and grinned at him.

"Nile water. It's poisonous. You have been locked in the loo for the

last couple of hours. Surprised that there is anything left of you."

Nicholas ignored the jibe and leaned over Jannie's seat back. "Where are

we?"

With a thick forefinger Jannie stabbed the chart that he was balancing

on his protruding belly. "Almost in the clear," he said complacently.

"Egyptian border in one hour twelve minutes."

Nicholas remained standing behind his seat until Jannie grunted and

lifted the microphone. "Time to go into my act."

"Hallo, Abu Simbel Approach!" he said in a Gulf States accent. "This is

Zulu Whiskey Uniform Five Zero Zero."

There was a long silence from the Egyptian controller.

Jannie grunted. "He probably has'a hint in the tower with him. Got to

give him time to get his pants back on."

Abu Simbel Control answered on his fifth call. Jannie launched into his

tried and tested routine, feigning ignorance in fluent colloquial

Arabic.

After five minutes, Abu Simbel cleared him to continue on northwards,

with an instruction to "call again abeam Aswan'.

They flew on serenely for another hour, but Nicholas nerves were

screwing up tighter every minute.

Suddenly, without the least warning, there was a silvery flash ahead of

them as a fighter interceptor, coming from below them, pulled up steeply

across their bows.

Jannie shouted with surprise and an eras another two 9 warplanes

rocketed up from under them, so close that they were buffeted by the

turbulence of their jet trails.

They all recognized the type. They were MiG21 "fishheads' sporting the

Egyptian air force livery, and with air-to-air missiles hanging in

menacing pods under their swept-back wings.

"Unidentified aircraft! Jannie yelled into his mouthpiece. "You are on

collision course. State your call sign!" They all craned their necks and

stared up through -he Perspex canopy over the flight-deck. High above

them they could see the three MiG fighters in formation circling against

the blue of the African sky.

"ZVVU 500. This is Red Leader of the Egyptian people's air force. You

will conform to my orders."

Jannie looked back at Nicholas, his expression forlorn.

low, A

something has gone wrong here. How the hell did they tumble to us?"

"You' better do what the man says, Dad," Fred advised miserably,

'otherwise he is going to blow us all over the sky."

Jarnie shrugged helplessly, and then spoke into his microphone

mournfully. "Red Leader, This is ZVVU 500.

We will cooperate. Please state your intentions."

"Your new heading is 053. Execute immediately!" Jannie brought Big Dolly

around into the east and then glanced at his chart.

"Aswan!" he said dolefully. "The Gyppos are taking us to Aswan. What the

hell, I might as well warn Aswan tower that we have wounded on board."

Nicholas went back to Royans bunk and shook her awake. She was groggy

and unsteady on her feet from the effects of the drug as she staggered

to the lavatory. However, when she emerged again ten minutes later her

hair was combed and she seemed alert and recovered from the mild draught

that she had drunk in her tea. - here was the Nile ahead of them once

more, 6.. and the town of Aswan on both banks, nestling below the first

cataract and the impounded waters of the High Dam. Kitchener's Island

swam like a green fish in the middle of the stream.

As the voice of the military controller at the Aswan irfield gave Jannie

his orders, Big Dolly settled with unruffled dignity and lined up for

the straight-in approach to the tarmac runway. The MiG fighters which

had shepherded them in from the desert were no longer visible, but their

presence high above was betrayed by their terse radio transmissions as

they handed over their captive to the ground control.

Big Dolly sailed in over the perimeter fence and touched down, and the

voice of the controller ordered them, "Turn first taxi-way right."

Jannie obeyed, and as he turned off the main runway there was a small

vehicle with a sign on its roof which read, in both English and Arabic,

"FOLLOW ME'.

The vehicle led them to a row of camouflaged concrete hangars in front

of which a ground crew in khaki overalls signalled them with paddles

into a parking stand. As soon as Jannie applied his brakes and brought

Big Dolly to a halt, a file of four armoured half-tracks raced out and

surrounded the huge aircraft, training their turret weapons upon her.

Obedient to the instructions radioed7by control, Jannie shut down his

engines and lowered the tail ramp of the aircraft. No one on the

flight-deck had spoken since they had landed. They stood crowded

together, looking unhappy, peering out of the cockpit windows.

Suddenly a white Cadillac with an escort of armed motorcyclists,