The Dark of the Sun - Smith Wilbur (книги полные версии бесплатно без регистрации txt) 📗
focused them on the burning town.
It was bright with the light of fires and through the glasses he could
almost discern the features of the men in the streets. They moved in
packs, heavily armed and restless. Many carried bottles and already the
gait of some of them was unsteady. Bruce tried to estimate their numbers
but it was impossible, men kept disappearing into buildings and
reappearing, groups met and mingled and dispersed.
He dropped his glasses on to his chest to rest his eyes, and heard
movement beside him in the dark. He glanced sideways. It was Ruffy, his
bulk exaggerated by the load he carried; his rifle across one shoulder,
on the other a full case of ammunition, and round his neck half a dozen
haversacks full of grenades.
"Looks like they're having fun, hey, boss?"
"Fifth of November," agreed Bruce. "Aren't you going to take a
breather?"
"Why not?" Ruffy set down the ammunition case and lowered his great
backside on to it.
"Can you see any of those folks we left behind?" he asked.
Bruce lifted the glasses again and searched the area beyond the station
buildings. It was darker there but he made out the square shape of the
truck standing among the moving shadows.
"The truck's still there," he murmured," but I can't see At that moment
the thatched roof of one of the houses exploded upwards in a column of
flame, lighting the railway yard, and the truck stood out sharply.
"Yes," said Bruce, "I can see them now." They were littered untidily
across the yard, still lying where they had died.
Small and fragile, unwanted as broken toys.
"Dead?" asked Ruffy.
"Dead," confirmed Bruce.
"The women?"
"It's hard to tell." Bruce strained his eyes. "I
don't think SO.
"No." Ruffy's voice was soft and very deep. "They wouldn't waste the
women. I'd guess they've got them up at the hotel, taking it in turn to
give them the business. Four women only - they won't last till morning.
Those bastards down there could shag an elephant to death." He spat
thoughtfully into the gravel at his feet. "What you going to do, boss?"
Bruce did not answer for a minute; he swung the glasses slowly back
across the town. The field gun was still standing where he had last seen
it, its barrel pointing accusingly up towards him. The transports were
parked before the Union Mini6re offices; he could see the brilliant
yellow and red paint and the Shell sign on the tanker. I
hope it's full, Bruce thought, we'll need plenty of gasoline to get us
back to Elisabethville.
"Ruffy, you'd better tell your boys to keep their bullets away from that
tanker, otherwise it'll be a long walk home."
"I'll tell them," grunted Ruffy. "But you know these mad Arabs - once
they start shooting they don't stop till they're out of bullets, and
they not too fussy where those bullets go. "We'll split into two groups
when we get
to the bottom of the hill. You and I will take our lot through the edge
of the swamp and cross to the far side of the town. Tell
Lieutenant Hendry to come here." Bruce waited until Wally came forward
to join them, and when the three of them crouched together he went on.
"Hendry, I want you to spread your men out at the top of the main street
- there in the darkness on this side of the station. Ruffy and
I are going to cross the edge of the swamp to the causeway and lay out
on the far side. For God's sake keep your boys quiet until Ruffy and I
hit them - all we need is for your lot to start pooping off before we
are ready and we won't need those lorries, we'll need coffins for the
rest of out journey. Do you understand me?"
"Okay, okay, I know what
I'm doing," muttered Wally.
I hope So," said Bruce, and then went on. "We'll hit them at four
o'clock tomorrow morning, just before first light. Ruffy and I will go
into the town and bomb the hotel - that's where most of them will be
sleeping. The grenades should force the survivors into the street and as
soon as that happens you can open up - but not before. Wait until you
get them in the open. Is that clear?"
"Jesus," growled Hendry.
"Do you think I'm a bloody fool, do you think I can't understand
English?"
"The crossfire from the two groups should wipe most of them out." Bruce
ignored Wally's outburst. "But we mustn't give the remainder a chance to
organize. Hit them hard and as soon as they take cover again you must
follow them in close with them and finish them off. If we can't get it
over in five to ten minutes then we are going to be in trouble.
They outnumber us three to one, so we have to exploit the element of
surprise to the full."
"Exploit the element of surprise to the full!" mimicked Wally. "What for
all the fancy talk - why not just
murder the bastards?" Bruce grinned lightly in the dark. "All right,
murder the bastards," he agreed. "But do it as quickly as bloody
possible." He stood up and inclined the luminous dial of his wristwatch
to catch the light. "It's half past ten now - we'll move down on them.
Come with me, Hendry, and we'll sort them into two groups." Bruce and
Wally moved back along the line and talked to each man in turn.
"You will go with Lieutenant Hendry."
"You come with me." Making sure that the two English-speaking corporals
were with Wally, they took
ten minutes to divide them into two units and to redistribute the
haversacks of grenades.
Then they moved on down the slope, still in Indian file.
"This is where we leave you, Hendry," whispered Bruce.
"Don't go jumping the gun - wait until you hear my grenades."
"Yeah, okay - I know all about it." "Good luck," said Bruce.
"Your bum in a barrel, Captain Curry," rejoined Wally and moved away.
"Come on, Ruffy." Bruce led his men off the embankment down into the
swamp. Almost immediately the mud and slime was knee-deep and as they
worked their way out to the right it rose to their waists and then to
their armpits, sucking and gurgling sullenly as they stirred it with
their passage, belching little evil-smelling gusts of swamp gas.
The mosquitoes closed round Bruce's face in a cloud so dense that he
breathed them into his mouth and had to blink them out of his eyes.
Sweat dribbled down from under his helmet and clung heavily in his
eyebrows and the matted stems of the papyrus grass dragged at his feet.
Their progress was tortuously slow and for fifteen minutes at a time
Bruce lost sight of the lights of the village through the wall of
papyrus; he steered by the glow of the fires and the occasional column
of sparks.
It was an hour before they had half completed their circuit of
Port Reprieve. Bruce stopped to rest, still waistdeep in swamp ooze and
with his arms aching numb from holding his rifle above his head.
"I could use a smoke now, boss," grunted Ruffy.
Me too," answered Bruce, and he wiped his face on the sleeve of his
jacket. The mosquito bites on his forehead and round his eyes burnt like
fire.
What a way to make a living," he whispered.
"You go on living and you'll be one of the lucky ones," answered
