White Death - Cussler Clive (читать полностью книгу без регистрации .txt) 📗
Gamay had been focused on the control cabin. She saw heads ap- pear in the windows, then two men climbed out and slid down the ropes. She pointed them out to Paul, and a broad grin crossed his face.
The captain had returned to the deck. Paul told him to bring the boat to a stop.
"But they'll catch us."
"Exactly right, Captain, exactly right."
Mumbling to himself, the captain raced back to the bridge. Paul and Gamay grabbed some crew members and readied the vessel's inflatable outboard boat. The engines cut to an idle, and the boat plowed to a halt as the zeppelin's gigantic silhouette filled the sky. As the airship came abeam, the figures hanging from the lines dropped into the sea with two great splashes. The inflatable came alongside the heads bobbing in the waves. Paul and Gamay pulled Zavala and Austin aboard.
"Nice of you to drop in," Paul said.
"Nice of you to pick us up," Austin said.
Even as he grinned with pleasure, Austin was keeping an eye on the zeppelin. To his relief, after the airship leveled out, it steered on a course away from the ship. Barker's men must have broken back into the control car. They would have made short work of the boat and everyone on it with their automatic weapons. But the Kiolya were headless now, without Toonook, their great leader.
Within minutes, friendly hands were helping Austin and the oth- ers back onto the research vessel. Austin and Zavala were taken below and provided with dry clothes. Gamay did a professional job patching up Austin's latest wound with bandages. The injury might require a few stitches, but it looked worse than it was. On the plus side, Austin consoled himself, he would have matching scars on ei- ther side of his rib cage. He and Zavala were sitting in the galley with the Trouts, enjoying strong coffee and the warmth from the stove, when the cook, a Newfoundlander, asked if they wanted breakfast.
Austin realized they hadn't eaten since the jerky they had had the previous day. From the look in Zavala's eyes, he was equally hungry.
"Anything you can rustle up," Austin said. "Just make sure there's a lot of it."
"I can give you fish cakes and eggs," the cook said.
"Fish cakes?" Zavala said.
"Sure. It's a Newfie specialty."
Austin and Zavala exchanged glances. "No, thanks," they said.
40
BEAR CAME THROUGH as promised. Therri had called the bush pilot on the radio, told him she needed to evacuate nearly fifty people and pleaded for his help. Ask- ing no questions, Bear had rallied every bush pilot within a hundred- mile radius. Floatplanes streamed in from every direction to airlift the passengers from the shore of the lake. The sick and elderly went on first, then the young. Therri stood on the beach, feeling a mix- ture of relief and sadness, and waved good-bye to her new friend Rachael.
Ryan's bloody badge of courage qualified him for a ride on one of the first planes out. With his shoulder wound patched up to stem the bleeding and prevent infection, he and the others were taken to a small but well-equipped provincial hospital. The Aguirrez brothers arranged their own transportation, calling in the EuroCopter to fly them back to the yacht with the news of their loss.
Before they left, Ben and some of the younger men in the tribe went back across the lake to see what was left of Barker's complex. On their return, they reported that nothing remained. When Therri asked about the fate of the monster fish she had seen, Ben simply smiled and said, "Barbecued."
Therri, Ben and Mercer were among the last to leave. This time, the fuzzy dice in Bear's cockpit were reassuring. As the floatplane wheeled over the vast forest, she looked down at the huge blackened area around the devastated site of Barker's incredible building.
"Looks like we had a little forest fire down there," Bear yelled over the drone of the engine. "You folks know anything about that?"
"Someone must have been careless with a match," Mercer said. Seeing the skeptical expression in Bear's eyes, Mercer grinned and said, "When we get back, I'll tell you the whole story over a beer."
It actually took quite a few beers.
Austin and Zavala, in the meantime, enjoyed their reunion with the Trouts and the leisurely cruise back to port on Throckmorton's re- search vessel. Throckmorton was still in a state of shock at the reve- lation of Barker's mad scheme, and he promised to testify before Senator Graham's Congressional committee once he had filled in Parliament about the dangers of genetically modified fish.
Back in Washington, Austin met with Sandecker to fill him in on the mission. The admiral listened to the story of Barker's demise with rapt attention, but he saved most of his fascination for Duren- dal. He held the sword gingerly in his hands.
Unlike many men of the sea, Sandecker was not superstitious, so Austin hiked an eyebrow when the admiral gazed at the shimmer- ing blade and murmured, "This weapon is haunted, Kurt. It seems to have a life of its own."
"I had the same feeling," Austin said. "When I first picked it up, an electric current seemed to flow from the hilt into my arm."
Sandecker blinked as if he were coming out of a spell, and slid the sword back into its scabbard. "Superstitious rubbish, of course."
"Of course. What do you suggest we do with it?"
"There's no question in my mind. We return it to its last rightful owner."
"Roland is dead, and if the mummy I saw is Diego's, he won't be putting any claims on Durendal any time soon."
"Let me think about it. Do you mind if I borrow the sword in the meantime?"
"Not at all, although I could use it to cut through the mounds of paperwork."
Sandecker lit his cigar and tossed the match into his fireplace.
Flashing his familiar crocodile grin, he said, "I've always found fire to be much more effective in dealing with the effluent of our federal bureaucracy."
Sandecker's summons came a couple of days later. The admiral's voice crackled over the phone. "Kurt, if you have a minute, could you please come up to my office. Round up Joe, too. There are some peo- ple here who want to see you."
Austin tracked down Zavala in the deep-submergence design lab and gave him Sandecker's message. They arrived outside the admi- ral's office at the same time. The receptionist smiled and waved them through. Sandecker greeted them at the door and ushered them into the nerve center ofNUMA.
"Kurt. Joe. Good of you to come," he said effusively, taking them by the arm.
Austin smiled at Sandecker's disingenuous welcome. One had lit- tie choice when Sandecker called. Those who arrived late or not at all suffered the full weight of the admiral's wrath.
Standing behind Sandecker were Balthazar Aguirrez and his two sons. Balthazar roared with pleasure when he saw Austin. He pumped Austin's hand and then Zavala's in his lobster grip.
"I asked Mr. Aguirrez and his sons to stop by so we could thank them for helping us in Canada," Sandecker said. "I've been telling them about your mission."
"We couldn't have done it without your help," Austin said. "Sorry for the loss of your pilots and helicopter. And for Pablo's injury."
Aguirrez waved his hand in dismissal. "Thank you, my friend. The helicopter was only a machine and can easily be replaced. As you can see, my son's wound is healing nicely. The death of the pilots was a shame, but like all the men on my boat, they were highly paid mer- cenaries and well aware of the dangers of their chosen profession."