dk.solesurvivor-第31部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


moved：　a　shadow　gliding　through　deeper　shadows；　dun　against　purple。
　　Joe　held　his　breath。　He　squinted　but　could　not　identify　what　he　had　briefly　glimpsed。
　　Barbara　said；　'I　think　it　was　just　a　deer。'
　　'If　it　wasn't？'
　　'Then　we're　dead　whether　we　finish　this　talk　or　not；'　she　said　in　a　matter…of…fact　tone　that　revealed　the　bleak　and　paranoid　new　world　order　in　which　she　lived　following　Flight　353。
　　He　said；　'The　fact　that　your　tape　was　erased…didn't　that　raise　anyone's　suspicions？'
　　'The　consensus　was　that　I'd　been　tired。　Three　hours'　sleep　the　night　of　the　crash…then　only　a　few　hours　the　next　night　before　Mirth　called　and　woke　me。　Poor　bleary…eyed　Barbara。　I'd　sat　listening　to　the　tape　over　and　over；　over　and　over；　and　at　the　end　I　must　have　pressed　the　wrong　button…you　know？…and　erased　it　without　realizing　what　I'd　done。'　Her　face　twisted　with　sarcasm。　'You　can　see　how　it　must　have　happened。'
　　'Any　chance　of　that？'
　　'None　whatsoever。'
　　Though　Joe　unfolded　the　three　sheets　of　paper；　he　didn't　yet　begin　to　read　them。
　　He　said；　'Why　didn't　they　believe　you　when　you　told　them　what　you'd　heard　on　the　tape？　They　were　your　colleagues。　They　knew　you　to　be　a　responsible　person。'
　　'Maybe　some　of　them　did　believe　it…and　didn't　want　to。　Maybe　some　of　them　just　chalked　it　up　to　my　fatigue。　I'd　been　fighting　an　ear　infection　for　weeks；　and　it　had　worn　me　down　even　before　Pueblo。　Maybe　they　took　that　into　account。　I　don't　know。　And　there's　one　or　two　who　just　plain　don't　like　me。　Who　among　us　is　universally　loved？　Not　me。　Too　pushy。　Too　opinionated。　Anyway；　it　was　all　moot…because　without　a　tape；　there　was　no　proof　of　the　exchanges　between　Blanc　and　Santorelli。'
　　'When　did　you　finally　tell　someone　you'd　made　a　transcript　word　for　word？'
　　'I　was　saving　that。　I　was　trying　to　figure　the　right　moment；　the　right　context　in　which　to　mention　it…preferably　once　the　investigation　turned　up　some　detail　that　would　support　what　I　said　had　been　on　the　tape。'
　　'Because　by　itself　your　transcript　isn't　real　proof。'
　　'Exactly。　Sure；　it's　better　than　nothing；　better　than　memory　alone；　hut　I　needed　to　augment　it　with　something。　Then　those　two　creeps　'woke　me　in　the　hotel　in　San　Francisco；　and　after　that　。　。　。　Well；　I　just　wasn't　much　of　a　crusader　any　more。'
　　Out　of　the　eastern　forest；　two　deer　leaped　in　tandem　into　the　bottom　of　the　meadow；　a　Buck　and　a　doe。　They　raced　across　the　corner　of　the　clearing；　quickly　disappearing　into　the　trees　on　the　northern　perimeter。
　　Under　the　skin　on　the　back　of　Joe's　neck；　ticks　of　apprehension　still　burrowed　and　twitched。
　　The　movement　he　had　glimpsed　earlier　must　have　been　the　two　deer。　From　their　volatile　entrance　into　the　meadow；　however；　he　inferred　that　they　had　been　flushed　from　the　trees　by　something
　　…　or　someone…that　had　frightened　them。
　　He　wondered　if　any　corner　of　the　world　would　ever　feel　safe　to　him　again。　But　he　knew　the　answer　even　as　the　question　passed　through　his　mind：　no。
　　No　corner。　Not　anywhere。
　　Not　ever。
　　
　　He　said；　'Who　do　you　suspect…inside　the　Safety　Board？　Who　did　Mirth　call　next　after　you？　Because　that　person　is　probably　the　one　who　told　him　not　to　pass　the　word　any　further…and　then　arranged　to　have　him　killed　and　the　evidence　burned。'
　　'It　could　have　been　any　of　them　he　was　intending　to　call。　They　were　all　his　superiors；　and　he　would　have　obeyed　their　instructions。　I'd　like　to　think　it　can't　be　Bruce　Laceroth；　because　he's　a　bedrock　guy。　He　started　out　a　grunt　like　the　rest　of　us　did；　worked　his　way　up。　The　five　board　members；　on　the　other　hand；　are　presidential　appointees；　approved　by　the　senate　for　five…year　terms。'
　　'Political　hacks。'
　　'No；　actually；　the　great　majority　of　the　board　members　over　the　years　have　been　straight…shooters；　trying　to　do　their　best。　Most　of　them　are　a　credit　to　the　agency；　and　others　we　just　endure。　Once　in　a　while；　yeah；　one　of　them　is　slime　in　a　suit。'
　　'What　about　the　current　Chairman　and　Vice　Chairman？　You　said　Mirth　Tran　was　going　to　call　them…supposing　he　wasn't　able　to　reach　Laceroth　first。'
　　'They're　not　your　ideal　public　servants。　Maxine　Wulce　is　the　Chairman。　An　attorney；　young　and　politically　ambitious；　looking　out　for　number　one；　a　real　piece　of　work。　Wouldn't　give　you　two　cents　for　her。'
　　'Vice　Chairman？'
　　'Hunter　Parkman。　Pure　political　patronage。　He's　old　money；　so　lie　doesn't　need　the　job；　but　he　likes　being　a　presidential　appointee　and　talking　crash　lore　at　parties。　Give　you　fifteen　cents　for　him。'
　　Although　he　had　continued　to　study　the　woods　at　the　foot　of　the　meadow；　Joe　had　seen　no　further　movement　among　those　trees。
　　Far　to　the　east；　a　vein　of　lightning　pulsed　briefly　through　the　dark　muscle　of　the　storm。
　　He　counted　the　seconds　between　the　silver　flash　and　the　rumble　of　thunder；　translating　time　to　distance；　and　ascertained　that　the　rain　was　five　or　six　miles　from　them。
　　Barbara　said；　'I've　given　you　only　a　Xerox　of　the　transcript　I　wrote　down　that　night。　I've　hidden　the　original　away。　God　knows　why；　since　I'll　never　use　it。'
　　Joe　was　torn　between　a　rage　to　know　and　a　fear　of　knowing。　He　sensed　that　in　the　exchanges　between　Captain　Blane　and　First　Officer　Santorelli；　he　would　discover　new　dimensions　to　the　terror　that　his　wife　and　daughters　had　endured。
　　Finally；　Joe　focused　his　attention　on　the　first　page；　and　Barbara　watched　over　his　shoulder　as　he　followed　the　text　with　one　finger　to　allow　her　to　see　where　he　was　reading。
　　Sounds　of　First　Officer　Santorelli　returning　to　his　seat　from　the　lavatory。　His　initial　ments　are　captured　by　the　overhead　cockpit　microphone　before　he　puts　on　his　headset　with　the　boom　mike。
　　SANTORELLI： Get　to　L。A。　（unintelligible）；　I'm　going　to　chow　down　on　so　much　（unintelligible）；　hummus；　tabbouleh；　lebne　with　string　cheese；　big　plateful　of　kibby　till　I　bust。　There's　this　Armenian　place；　it's　the　best。　You　like　Middle　East　food？
　　Three　seconds　of　silence。
　　SANTORELLI： Roy？　Somethin'　up？
　　Two　seconds　of　silence。
　　SANTORELLI： What's　this？　What're　we　。。。　Roy；　you　off　the　auto　pilot？
　　BLANE： One　of　their　names　is　Dr。　Louis　Blom。
　　SANTORELLI： What？
　　BLANE： One　of　their　names　is　Dr。　Keith　Ramlock。
　　SANTORELLI： （with　audible　concern）　What's　this　on　the　McDoo？　You　been　in　the　FMC；　Roy？
　　
　　When　Joe　inquired；　Barbara　said；　'The　747…400s　use　digitised　avionics。　The　instrument　panel　is　dominated　by　six　of　the　largest　cathode…ray　tubes　made；　for　the　display　of　data。　And　the　McDoo　means　MCDU；　the　multi…function　control　and　display　unit。　There's　one　beside　each　pilot's　seat；　and　they're　interconnected；　so　anything　one　pilot　enters　is　updated　on　the　other's　unit。　They　control　the　Honeywell/Sperry　FMC；　the　flight　management　puter。　The　pilots　input　the　flight　plan　and　the　load　sheet　through　the　MCDU　keyboards；　and　all　enroute　flight…plan　changes　are　also　actuated　with　the　McDoos。'
　　'So　Santorelli　es　back　from　the　john　and　sees　that　Blane　has　made　changes　to　the　flight　plan。　Is　that　unusual？'
　　'Depends　on　weather；　turbulence；　unexpected　traffic；　holding　patterns　because　of　airport　problems　at　the　destination。。。
　　'But　at　this　point　in　a　coast…to…coast　flight…little　past　the　midpoint…in　pretty　good　weather；　with　everything　apparently　ticking　along　routinely？'
　　Barbara　nodded。　'Yeah；　Santorelli　would　wonder　why　they　were　making　flight…plan　changes　under　the　circumstances。　But　I　think　the　concern　in　his　voice　results　more　from　Blane's　unresponsiveness　and　from　something　unusual　he　saw　on　the　McDoo；　some　plan　change　that　didn't　make　sense。'
　　'Which　would　be？'
　　As　I　said　earlier；　they　were　seven　degrees　off　course。'
　　'Santorelli　wouldn't　have　felt　that　happening　when　he　was　in　the　lavatory？'
　　'It　started　soon　after　he　was　off　the　flight　deck；　and　it　was　a　gradual；　really　gentle　bank。　He　might　have　sensed　something；　but　there's　no　reason　he　would　have　realized　the　change　was　so　big。'
　　'Who　are　these　doctors…Blom　and　Ramlock？'
　　'I　don't　have　a　clue。　But　read　on。　It　gets　weirder。'
　　BLANE： They're　doing　bad　things　to　me。
　　SANTORELLI： Captain；　what's　wrong　here？
　　BLANE： They're　mean　to　me。
　　SANTORELLI： Hey；　are　you　with　me　here？
　　BLANE： Make　them　stop。
　　
　　Barbara　said；　'Blane's　voice　changes　there。　It's　sort　of　odd　all　the　way　through　this；　but　when　he　says　〃make　them　stop；〃　there's　a　tremor　in　it；　a　fragility；　as　if　he's　actually　in　。　。　。　not　pain　so　much　but　emotional　distress。'
　　
　　SANTORELLI： Captain。　。　。　Roy；　I'm　taking　over　here　now。
　　BLANE： Are　we　recording？
　　SANTORELLI： What？
　　
　　BLANE： Make　them　stop　hurting　me。
　　SANTORELLI： （worriedly）　Gonna　be…
　　BLANE： Are　we　recording？
　　SANTORELLI： Gonna　be　all　right　now…　A　hard　sound　like　a　punch。　A　grunt；　apparently　from　Santorelli。
　　Another　punch。　Santorelli　falls　silent。
　　BLANE： Are　we　recording？
　　
　　As　a　timpani　of　thunder　drummed　an　overture　in　the　east；　Joe　said；　'He　sucker…punched　his　copilot？'
　　'Or　hit　him　with　some　blunt　object；　maybe　something　he'd　taken　out　of　his　flight　bag　and　hidden　beside　his　seat　while　Santorelli　was　in　the　lay；　something　he　was　ready　with。'
　　'Premeditation。　What　the　hell？'
　　'Probably　hit　him　in　the　face；　because　Santorelli　went　right　out。　He's　silent　for　ten　or　twelve　seconds；　and　then'…she　pointed　to　the　transcript…'we　hear　him　groaning。'
　　'Dear　God。'
　　'On　the　tape；　Blane's　voice　now　loses　the　tremor；　the　fragility。　There's　a　bitterness　that　makes　your　skin　crawl。'
　　
　　BLANE： Make　them　stop　or　when　I　get　the　chance。　。　。　when　I　get　the　chance；　I'll　kill　everybody。　Everybody。　I　will。　I'll　do　it。　I'll　kill　everybody；　and　I'll　like　it。
　　
　　The　transcript　rattled　in　Joe's　hands。
　　He　thought　of　the　passengers　on　353：　some　dozing　in　their　seats；　others　reading　books；　working　on　laptops；　leafing　through　magazines；　knitting；　watching　a　movie；　having　a　drink；　making　plans　for　the　future；　all　of　them　placent；　none　aware　of　the　terrifying　events　occurring　in　the　cockpit。
　　Maybe　Nina　was　at　the　window；　gazing　out　at　the　stars　or　down　at　the　top　of　the　cloud　cover　below　them；　she　liked　the　window　seat。　Michelle　and　Chrissie　might　have　been　playing