tc.redrabbit-第103部分

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t　the　truck　for　Small　and　Truelove。　The　car　was　a　Jaguar；　painted　a　dark　blue；　with　left…hand　drive。　Ryan　loaded　them　into　the　backseat；　closed　the　door；　and　hopped　in　the　front。　The　big　V…8　started　instantly…the　Jag　was　lovingly　maintained　for　purposes　like　this　one…and　Hudson　started　driving。
　　　Their　taillights　were　still　visible　as　Small　and　Truelove　stepped　out　of　their　truck；　hustling　to　the　back。　Each　took　one　of　the　adult　bags　and　headed　in　the　side　door。　The　lobby　was　still　empty；　and　they　raced　up　the　stairs；　each　with　a　heavy　and　limp　burden。　The　upstairs　corridor　was　also　empty。　The　two　retired　soldiers　moved　as　stealthily　as　possible　into　the　room。　There　they　unzipped　the　bags；　and　with　gloved　hands　removed　the　bodies。　That　was　a　hard　moment　on　each　of　them。　Professional　soldiers　that　they　were；　both　with　bat　experience；　the　immediate　sight　of　a　burned　human　body　was　hard　to　take　without　a　deep　breath　and　an　inner　mand　to　take　charge　of　their　feelings。　They　laid　the　man's　and　the　woman's　bodies　from　different　countries　and　continents　side　by　side　on　the　double　bed。　Then　they　left　the　room　to　return　to　the　truck；　taking　the　empty　body　bags　with　them。　Small　got　the　smallest　of　the　bags　out　of　the　truck；　while　Truelove　got　the　rest　of　the　necessary　gear；　and　back　in　they　went。
　　　Small's　job　proved　the　hardest；　removing　the　little　girl's　body　from　the　plastic　bag　was　something　he'd　work　hard　to　erase　from　his　memory。　She　went　on　the　cot；　as　he　thought　of　it；　in　her　nearly　incinerated　nightgown。　He　might　have　patted　her　little　head　had　her　hair　not　been　entirely　burned　off　with　a　blowtorch；　and　all　he　could　do　was　whisper　a　prayer　for　her　innocent　little　soul　before　his　stomach　nearly　lost　control；　and　to　prevent　that　he　turned　abruptly　away。
　　　The　former　Royal　Engineer　was　already　into　his　own　task。　He　made　sure　they'd　left　nothing。　The　last　of　the　plastic　bags　was　folded　and　tucked　into　his　belt。　They　both　still　had　their　work　gloves；　and　so　there　was　nothing　they'd　brought　to　be　left　in　the　room。　He　took　his　time　looking　around；　and　then　waved　Small　out　into　the　corridor。
　　　Then　he　tore　the　top　off　the　milk　carton…it　had　been　washed　clean　and　dried　beforehand。　He　lit　the　candle　with　his　butane　lighter　and　dripped　a　dollop　of　hot　wax　into　the　bottom　of　the　carton；　to　make　sure　it　would　have　a　good　place　to　stand。　Then　he　blew　out　the　candle　and　made　sure　it　was　secure　in　its　place。
　　　Then　came　the　dangerous　part　Truelove　opened　the　top　of　me　alcohol　container；　first　pouring　nearly　a　quart　into　the　carton；　to　within　just　less　than　an　inch　of　the　top　of　the　candle。　Next　he　poured　the　alcohol　on　the　adult　bed；　and　more　onto　the　child's　cot。　The　remainder　went　on　the　floor；　much　of　it　around　the　milk　carton。　Finished；　he　tossed　the　empty　alcohol　container　to　Bob　Small。
　　　Okay；　Truelove　thought；　fully　a　gallon　of　pure　grain　alcohol　soaked　into　the　bedclothes　and　another　on　the　cheap　rug　on　the　floor。　A　demolitions　expert…in　fact；　he　had　many　fields　of　technical　expertise；　like　most　military　engineers…he　knew　to　be　careful　for　the　next　part。　Bending　down；　he　flicked　his　lighter　again　and　lit　the　candle　wick　with　the　same　care　a　heart　surgeon　might　have　exercised　in　a　valve　replacement。　He　didn't　waste　a　second　leaving　the　room；　except　to　make　sure　the　door　was　properly　locked　and　the　do…not…disturb　card　hung　on　the　knob。
　　　〃Time　to　leave；　Robert；〃　Rodney　said　to　his　colleague；　and　in　thirty　seconds　they　were　out　the　side　door　and　off　to　the　street。　〃How　long　on　the　candle？〃　Small　asked　by　the　truck。
　　　〃Thirty　minutes　at　most；〃　the　Royal　Engineer　sergeant　answered。
　　　〃That　poor　little　girl…you　suppose？〃　he　almost　asked。
　　　〃People　die　in　house　fires　every　day；　mate。　They　didn't　do　it　special　for　this　lot。〃
　　　Small　nodded　to　himself。　〃I　reckon。〃
　　　Just　then　Tom　Trent　appeared　in　the　lobby。　They'd　never　found　the　camera　he　lost　in　an　upstairs　room；　but　he　tipped　the　desk　clerk　for　his　effort。　It　turned　out　that　he　was　the　only　employee　on　duty　until　five　in　the　morning。
　　　Or　so　the　chap　thinks；　Trent　told　himself；　getting　into　the　truck。
　　　〃Back　to　the　embassy；　lads；〃　the　spook　told　the　security　men。　〃There's　a　good　bottle　of　single…malt　Scotch　whiskey　waiting　for　us　all。〃
　　　〃Good。　I　could　use　a　dram；〃　Small　observed；　thinking　of　the　little　girl。　〃Or　two。〃
　　　〃Can　you　say　what　this　adventure　is　all　about？〃
　　　〃Not　tonight。　Perhaps　later；〃　Trent　replied。
　　　
　　　CHAPTER　28　…　BRITISH　MIDLANDS
　　　The　candle　burned　normally；　not　knowing　the　part　it　was　playing　in　the　night's　adventures；　consuming　wick　and　wax　at　a　slow　pace；　gradually　burning　down　to　the　still　surface　of　the　alcohol…soon　to　play　the　part　of　an　accelerant　in　an　arson　fire。　All　in　all；　it　took　thirty…four　minutes　before　the　surface　of　the　flammable　fluid　ignited。　What　started　then　is　called　a　class…B　fire　by　professionals…a　flammable…liquid　event。　The　alcohol　burned　with　an　enthusiasm　hardly　less　than　that　of　gasoline…this　was　why　the　Germans　had　used　alcohol　rather　than　kerosene　in　their　V…2　missile…and　rapidly　consumed　the　cardboard　of　the　milk　carton；　releasing　the　burning　quart　of　alcohol　onto　the　floor。　That　ignited　the　soaked　surface　of　the　hotel　room's　rug。　The　blue　wave　of　the　fire…front　raced　across　the　room's　floor　in　a　matter　of　seconds；　like　a　living　thing；　a　blue　line　followed　by　an　incandescent　white　mass　as　the　fire　reached　up　to　consume　the　available　oxygen　in　the　high…ceilinged　room。　Another　moment　and　both　beds　ignited　as　well；　enveloping　the　bodies　in　them　with　flames　and　searing　heat。
　　　The　Hotel　Astoria　was　an　old　one；　lacking　both　smoke　detectors　and　automatic　sprinklers　to　warn　of　danger　or　extinguish　the　blaze　before　it　got　too　dangerous。　Instead　the　flames　climbed　almost　immediately　to　the　water…stained　white　ceiling；　burning　off　paint　and　charring　the　underlying　plaster；　plus　attacking　the　cheap　hotel　furniture。　The　inside　of　the　room　turned　into　a　crematorium　for　three　human　beings　already　dead；　eating　their　bodies　like　the　carnivorous　animal　the　ancient　Egyptians　thought　a　fire　to　be。　The　worst　of　the　damage　took　just　five　minutes；　but　while　the　fire　died　down　somewhat　after　its　first　glut　of　consumption；　it　didn't　die　just　yet。
　　　The　desk　clerk　in　the　lobby　had　a　more　plex　job　than　one　might　have　expected。　At　two…thirty　every　morning；　he　placed　a　please…wait…back…in…a　few…minutes　sign　on　the　desk；　and　took　the　elevator　to　the　top　floor　to　walk　the　corridors。　He　found　the　usual…nothing　at　all　in　this　floor；　and　all　the　others；　until　getting　to　number　three。
　　　ing　down　the　steps；　he　noticed　an　unusual　smell。　That　perked　his　senses；　but　not　all　that　much　until　his　feet　touched　the　floor。　Then　he　turned　left　and　saw　a　wisp　of　smoke　ing　out　from　under　the　door　to　307。　He　took　the　three　steps　to　the　door；　and　touched　the　knob；　finding　it　hot；　but　not　painfully　so。　That　was　when　he　made　his　mistake。
　　　Taking　the　passkey　from　his　pocket；　he　unlocked　the　door；　and　without　feeling　the　wooden　portion　to　see　if　that　was　hot；　he　pushed　the　door　open。
　　　The　fire　had　largely　died　down；　starved　of　oxygen；　but　the　room　remained　hot；　the　hotel　walls　insulating　the　incipient　blaze　as　efficiently　as　a　barbecue　pit。　Opening　the　door　admitted　a　large　volume　of　fresh　air　and　oxygen　to　the　room；　and　barely　had　he　had　the　chance　to　see　the　horror　within　when　a　phenomenon　called　flashover　happened。
　　　It　was　the　next　thing　to　an　explosion。　The　room　reignited　in　a　blast　of　flame　and　a　further　intake　of　air；　sufficiently　strong　that　it　nearly　purled　the　clerk　off　his　feet　and　into　the　room　even　as　an　outward　blast　of　flame　pushed　him　the　other　way…and　saved　his　life。　Slapping　his　hands　to　his　flash…burned　face；　he　fell　to　his　knees　and　struggled　to　the　manual…pull　alarm　on　the　wall　next　to　the　elevator…without　pulling　307's　door　back　shut。　That　sounded　alarm　bells　throughout　the　hotel　and　also　reported　to　the　nearest　firehouse；　three　kilometers　away。　Screaming　with　pain；　he　walked；　or　fell；　down　the　stairs　to　the　lobby；　where　he　first　threw　a　glass　of　water　on　his　burned　face；　then　called　the　emergency　number　next　to　the　phone　to　report　the　fire　to　the　city　fire　department。　By　this　time　people　were　ing　down　the　stairs。　For　them；　getting　past　the　third　floor　had　been　harrowing；　and　the　clerk；　burned　as　he　〃was；　got　an　extinguisher　to　spray　on　them；　but　he　was　unable　to　climb　back　to　use　the　fire　hose　in　its　little　cabinet　on　the　involved　floor。　It　would　not　have　mattered　anyway。
　　　The　first　fire　truck　arrived　less　than　five　minutes　after　the　pull　alarm　had　sounded。　Hardly　needing　to　be　told…the　fire　was　visible　from　outside；　since　the　room's　windows　had　shattered　from　the　heat　of　the　renewed　blaze…they　forced　their　way　past　the　escaping　hotel　guests。　Within　a　minute　after　arriving；　the　first　seventy…millimeter　hose　was　spraying　water　into　the　room。　It　took　less　than　five　minutes　to　knock　the　fire　down；　and　through　the　smoke　and　horrid　smell；　the　firemen　forced　their　way　inside　to　find　what　they　feared…a　family　of　three；　dead　in　their　beds。
　　　The　fire　lieutenant　in　mand　of　the　first　responders　cradled　the　dead　child　in　his　arms　and　ran　down　and　out　onto　the　street；　but　he　could　see　it　was　a　waste。　The　child　had　roasted　like　a　piece　of　meat　in　an　oven。　Hosing　her　body　down　only　exposed　the　ghastly　effect　a　fire　has　on　a　human　body；　and　there　was　nothing　for　him　to　do　but　say　a　prayer　for　her。　The　lieutenant　was　the　brother　of　a　priest　and　a　devout　Catholic　in　this　Marxist　country；　and　he　prayed　to　his　God　for　mercy　for　the　little　girl's　soul；　not　knowing　that　the　very　same　thing　had　happened　over　four　thousand　miles　away　and　ten　days　earlier。
　　　The　rabbits　were　out　of　the　city　in　a　matter　of　minutes。　Hudson　drove　carefully；　within　the　posted　speed　limits；　lest　there　be　a　cop　around；　though　there　was　virtually　no　traffic　in　evidence；　merely　the　occasional　truck；　mercial　ones　with　canvas　sides；　carrying　who　knew　what　to　who　knew　where。　Ryan　was　in　the　right…front　seat；　half　turned　to　look　in　the　back。　Irina　Zaitzev　was　a　mask　of　tipsy　confusion；　not　prehending　enough　to　be　frightened。　The　child　was　asleep；　as　children　invariably　were　at　this　time　of　night。　The　father　was　trying　to　be　stoic；　but　the　edge　of　fear　was　visible　on　his　face；