pdouglas.thecodex-第51部分

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　60
　
　Tom　rose　from　his　hammock　at　1：00　A。M。　The　night　was　black。　Clouds　had　blotted　out　the　stars　and　a　restless　wind　rustled　and　mumbled　through　the　trees。　The　only　light　came　from　the　ruddy　heap　of　embers　in　the　fire　ring；　casting　a　reddish　glow　on　the　faces　of　the　ten　Tara　warriors。　They　were　still　sitting　in　a　circle　around　the　fire；　not　having　moved　or　spoken　all　night。
　Before　waking　the　others　Tom　collected　the　binoculars　and　stepped　out　of　the　trees　to　take　one　more　look　at　the　White　City。　The　lights　were　still　on　at　the　suspension　bridge；　the　soldiers　in　their　ruined　fort。　Tom　thought　of　what　lay　ahead。　Perhaps　Philip　was　right　and　it　was　suicide。　Perhaps　Maxwell　Broadbent　was　dead　in　his　tomb　and　they　were　risking　their　lives　for　nothing。　All　that　was　beside　the　point：　He　had　to　do　it。
　Tom　went　to　wake　the　others　only　to　find　most　of　them　up。　Borabay　unbanked　the　fire；　piled　in　fresh　sticks；　and　put　a　pot　on　to　boil。　Sally　joined　them　soon　afterward　and　began　checking　her　Springfield　by　the　light　of　the　fire。　Her　faced　looked　drawn；　tired。　〃You　remember　what　General　Patton　said　was　always　the　first　casualty　of　a　battle？〃　she　asked　Tom。
　〃No。〃
　〃The　battle　plan。〃
　〃So　you　don't　think　our　plan　is　going　to　work？〃　Tom　asked。
　She　shook　her　head。　〃Probably　not。〃　She　looked　away；　then　back　down　at　the　rifle；　giving　it　an　unneeded　polish　with　the　cleaning　rag。
　〃What　do　you　think's　going　to　happen？〃
　She　shook　her　head　wordlessly；　sending　waves　through　her　heavy　gold　hair。　Tom　realized　she　was　very　upset。　He　placed　his　hand　on　her　shoulder。　〃We　have　to　do　this；　Sally。〃
　She　nodded。　〃I　know。〃
　Vernon　joined　them　at　the　fire；　and　the　four　of　them　drank　their　tea　in　silence。　When　the　tea　was　gone；　Tom　glanced　at　his　watch。　Two　o'clock。　He　looked　around　for　Philip；　but　his　brother　had　not　even　e　out　of　the　hut。　He　nodded　to　Borabay；　and　they　all　rose。　Sally　threw　the　gun　over　her　shoulder；　and　they　shouldered　small　palm…leaf　backpacks　containing　a　supply　of　food；　water；　matches；　camp　stove；　and　other　essentials。　They　set　off　single　file；　Borabay　in　the　lead；　the　warriors　bringing　up　the　rear；　moving　down　through　the　grove　of　trees　and　out　into　the　open。
　Ten　minutes　down　from　the　camp；　Tom　heard　the　sound　of　running　from　behind；　and　they　all　stopped　and　listened；　the　warriors　with　their　arrows　nocked　and　drawn。　In　a　moment　Philip　appeared；　breathing　hard。
　〃Here　to　wish　us　luck？〃　Vernon　asked；　an　edge　of　sarcasm　in　his　voice。
　Philip　took　a　moment　to　catch　his　breath。　〃I　don't　know　why　I　would　even　think　of　joining　this　harebrained　scheme。　But　damn　it；　I'm　not　going　to　let　you　go　off　to　your　deaths　alone。〃
　
　61
　
　Marcus　Aurelius　Hauser　felt　in　his　musette　bag　for　another　Churchill　and　selected　one；　rolling　it　between　thumb　and　forefinger　before　taking　it　out。　He　went　through　the　sacrament　of　trimming；　moistening；　and　lighting　it；　and　then　he　held　it　out　in　the　dark　so　that　he　could　admire　the　big　fat　glowing　tip　while　allowing　the　aroma　of　fine　Cuban　longleaf　to　surround　him　like　a　cocoon　of　elegance　and　satisfaction。　Cigars；　he　mused；　always　seem　to　bee　better；　richer；　deeper　tasting　in　the　jungle。
　Hauser　was　well　hidden　at　a　strategic　point　above　the　suspension　bridge　in　a　thicket　of　ferns；　where　he　had　a　good　view　of　the　bridge　and　the　soldiers　in　their　little　stone　fort　on　the　far　side。　He　pushed　aside　some　plants　and　raised　a　pair　of　binoculars　to　his　eyes。　He　had　a　strong　feeling　that　the　three　Broadbent　brothers　were　going　to　make　their　break　to　cross　the　bridge　tonight。　They　wouldn't　wait；　they　couldn't　wait。　They　had　to　get　to　the　tomb　before　he　did；　if　they　wanted　any　chance　at　all　of　saving　some　of　the　masterpieces　for　themselves。
　He　puffed　contentedly；　thinking　back　to　Maxwell　Broadbent。　He　had　lugged　half　a　billion　dollars'　worth　of　fine　art　and　antiquities　up　here；　all　on　a　whim。　As　outrageous　at　it　was；　it　was　perfectly　in　character。　Max　was　the　man　of　the　big　gesture；　the　spectacle；　the　show。　He　lived　large　and　he　died　large。
　Hauser　remembered　back　to　that　defining　fifty…day　trek　in　the　jungle；　those　harrowing　days　that　he　would　never　forget　as　long　as　he　lived。　They　had　heard　there　was　a　Mayan　temple　somewhere　up　in　the　Cerros　Escondidos　in　the　Guatemalan　lowlands。　Fifty　days　and　fifty　nights；　hacking　their　way　along　overgrown　trails；　stung　and　bitten　and　scratched；　starving　and　sick。　When　they　stumbled　into　that　Lacandon　village；　the　villagers　wouldn't　talk。　The　temple　was　there　somewhere；　all　right。　No　doubt　about　it。　But　the　villagers　were　silent。　Hauser　had　just　about　gotten　a　girl　to　the　point　of　talking　when　Max　had　thwarted　him。　Pointed　a　gun　right　at　his　head；　the　bastard；　disarmed　him。　That　was　the　break；　the　final　straw。　Max　had　ordered　Hauser　away　like　he　was　some　dog。　Hauser　had　no　choice　but　to　give　up　their　search　for　lost　cities　and　go　home…while　Max　went　on　to　find　the　White　City。　He　looted　a　rich　tomb　up　here；　and　that　tomb；　forty　years　later；　had　bee　his　own。
　It　had　e　full　circle；　though；　hadn't　it？
　Hauser　enjoyed　another　long　suck　on　the　cigar。　In　his　years　in　bat；　he　had　learned　something　important　about　people：　When　things　got　tough；　you　could　never　tell　who　was　going　to　make　it　and　who　was　going　to　fold。　The　big　Army　Ranger　guys　in　their　crew　cuts　and　pumped…up　Arnold　Schwarzenegger　pecs　and　big…dick　talk　sometimes　fell　apart　like　so　much　overcooked　meat；　while　the　geek　in　the　pany；　the　intel　guy　or　the　electronics　nerd；　turned　out　to　be　the　real　survivor。　So　you　never　knew。　This　was　how　it　was　with　the　three　Broadbent　kids。　He　had　to　hand　it　to　them。　They　had　done　well。　They　would　perform　this　final　service　and　then　their　road　would　e　to　an　end。
　He　paused；　listened。　There　was　a　faint　sound　of　ululating；　whooping；　and　yelling。　He　raised　the　binoculars。　Far　to　the　left　of　the　stone　fort；　he　could　see　a　shower　of　arrows　e　sailing　out　of　the　jungle。　One　of　them　struck　a　klieg　light　with　a　distant　ping！
　The　Indians　were　attacking。　Hauser　smiled。　It　was　a　diversion；　of　course；　designed　to　draw　the　attention　of　his　soldiers　away　from　the　bridge。　He　could　see　his　own　men　huddling　behind　the　stone　walls；　guns　at　the　ready；　loading　their　grenade　launchers。　He　hoped　to　hell　they　could　pull　it　off。　At　least　they　had　an　assignment　to　fake　what　they　were　already　good　at：　failure。
　More　arrows　came　sailing　out　of　the　forest；　followed　by　another　eruption　of　bloodcurdling　yells。　The　soldiers　answered　with　a　panicky　burst　of　gunfire；　and　another。　A　grenade　went　sailing　uselessly　into　the　forest；　and　there　was　a　flash　and　a　bang。
　For　once　the　soldiers　were　getting　it　right。
　Now　that　the　Broadbents　had　made　their　move；　Hauser　knew　exactly　how　it　was　going　to　unfold。　It　was　as　predetermined　as　a　series　of　forced　moves　in　chess。
　And　there　they　were；　right　on　schedule。　He　raised　his　binoculars　again。　The　three　brothers　and　their　Indian　guide　were　running　low　across　the　open　ground　behind　the　soldiers；　heading　for　the　bridge。　How　clever　they　thought　they　were；　racing　with　all　their　hearts　and　souls　into　a　trap！
　Hauser　just　had　to　laugh。
　
　62
　
　Sally　had　crawled　within　two　hundred　yards　of　the　soldiers　guarding　the　bridge。　She　lay　behind　a　fallen　tree　trunk；　her　Springfield　resting　on　the　smooth　wood。　All　was　quiet。　She　hadn't　said　good…bye　to　Tom；　they　had　simply　kissed　and　gone。　She　tried　not　to　think　about　what　was　going　to　happen。　It　was　a　crazy　plan；　and　she　doubted　they'd　ever　get　across　the　bridge。　Even　if　they　did；　and　were　able　to　rescue　their　father；　they'd　never　get　back。
　This　was　exactly　what　she　didn't　want　to　be　thinking　about。　She　turned　her　attention　to　the　rifle。　The　Springfield　'03　dated　back　to　before　World　War　I；　but　it　felt　right；　and　the　optics　were　excellent。　Chori　had　taken　good　care　of　it。　She　had　already　calculated　the　distance　from　her　hiding　place　to　where　the　soldiers　were　hunkered　down　inside　the　ruined　stone　fort…210　yards…and　she　had　adjusted　the　scope　accordingly。　The　ammunition　Chori　had　given　her　was　standard　military　issue　。30…06　with　a　150…grain　bullet；　so　no　additional　calculations　were　necessary；　even　if　she　had　the　adjustment　tables　handy；　which　she　did　not。　She　had　also　adjusted　the　knurled　windage　knob　to　her　best　estimate　of　the　wind　conditions。　The　fact　was；　210　yards　was　not　much　of　a　challenge　for　her；　especially　with　a　stationary　target　as　large　as　a　man。
　Since　she　had　arrived　at　the　log　she　had　been　thinking　about　what　it　would　mean　to　kill　another　person　and　whether　she　could　do　it。　Now；　as　the　action　was　minutes　from　beginning；　she　knew　she　could。　To　save　Tom's　life　she　would　do　it。　Hairy　Bugger　was　sitting　in　a　little　cage　made　of　woven　vines。　She　was　glad　he　was　there　to　keep　her　pany；　although　he'd　been　fretting　and　grumping　at　Tom's　absence　and　his　own　imprisonment。　She　took　out　a　handful　of　nuts；　gave　a　few　to　Bugger；　and　ate　the　rest　herself。
　It　was　about　to　begin。
　Right　on　schedule　she　heard　a　distant　yell　from　the　forest　on　the　far　side　of　the　soldiers；　followed　by　a　chorus　of　whoops；　shrieks；　and　ululations　that　sounded　more　like　a　hundred　warriors　than　ten。　A　shower　of　arrows　flashed　out　of　the　dark　woods；　aimed　high　so　they　would　e　down　on　the　soldiers　at　a　steep　angle。
　She　quickly　fitted　her　eye　to　the　scope　to　see　the　action　better。　The　soldiers　were　scrambling　in　a　panic；　loading　their　grenade　launchers　and　getting　in　position　behind　the　stone　wall。　They　began　firing　back；　disorganized　panicky　bursts　aimed　willy…nilly　at　the　wall　of　forest　two　hundred　yards　away。　A　grenade　went　sailing　uselessly　toward　the　forest；　falling　short　and　going　off　with　a　flash　and　bang。　More　grenades　followed；　bursting　in　the　treetops　and　ripping　the　branches　off　the　trees。　It　was　an　unusually　inpetent　display　of　military　prowess。
　To　her　left　Sally　saw　a　flash　of　movement。　The　four　Broadbents　were　running　at　a　crouch　across　the　open　area　toward　the　bridgehead。　They　had　two　hundred　yards　of　brush　and　fallen　tree　trunks　to　negotiate；　but　they　were　making　good　time。　The　soldiers　seemed　fully　occupied　with　the　feint　attack　on　their　flank。　Sally　continued　watching　through　the　scope；　ready　to　provide　covering　fire。
　One　of　the　soldiers　rose　and　turned　to　get　more　grenades。　Sally　aime