cyclops-第79部分

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　　　　〃What's　wrong　with　your　emergency　battery　power？〃
　　　　〃Worn　out。〃　Jack　made　a　gesture　of　helplessness。　〃No　parts　for　repair。　I'm　on　the　waiting　list。　You　know　how　it　is。〃
　　　　The　boats　were　so　close　now　they　were　almost　touching。　The　lieutenant　laid　aside　the　bullhorn　and　replied　in　a　rasping　voice；　〃I　cannot　allow　that。〃
　　　　〃Then　I'll　have　to　anchor　right　here　until　morning；〃　Jack　replied　nastily。
　　　　The　lieutenant　angrily　threw　up　his　hands　in　defeat。　〃e　aboard　and　make　your　call。〃
　　　　Jack　dropped　down　a　ladder　to　the　deck　and　jumped　across　the　four…foot　gap　between　the　boats。　He　looked　around　him　with　a　slow；　salty　indifference；　carefully　noting　the　relaxed　attitude　of　the　three…man　gun　crew；　the　mate　standing　by　the　helm　casually　lighting　a　cigar；　the　tired　look　on　the　lieutenant's　face。　The　only　man　who　was　missing；　he　knew；　was　the　engineer　below。
　　　　The　lieutenant　came　up　to　him。　〃Make　it　quick。　You're　interfering　with　a　military　operation。〃
　　　　〃Forgive　me；〃　said　Jack　slavishly；　〃but　it's　not　my　doing。〃
　　　　He　reached　forward　as　if　wanting　to　shake　hands　and　pumped　two　bullets　from　a　silenced　automatic　into　the　lieutenant's　heart。　Then　he　calmly　shot　the　helmsman。
　　　　The　trio　around　the　bow　gun　crumpled　and　died　under　a　flight　of　three　precisely　aimed　arrows；　fired　by　Jack's　crew　with　crossbows。　The　engineer　never　felt　the　bullet　that　struck　him　in　the　temple。　He　fell　over　the　boat's　diesel　engine；　lifeless　hands　gripping　a　rag　and　a　wrench。
　　　　Jack　and　his　crewmen　carried　the　bodies　below　and　then　swiftly　opened　all　drain　plugs　and　sea　cocks。　They　returned　to　the　tug　and　paid　no　more　attention　to　the　sinking　patrol　boat　as　it　drifted　away　on　the　tide　into　the　darkness。
　　　　There　was　no　gangway　down；　so　a　pair　of　grappling　hooks　were　thrown　over　the　tanker's　deck　railing。　Jack　and　two　others　clambered　up　the　sides　and　then　hauled　up　portable　acetylene　tanks　and　a　cutting　torch。
　　　　Forty…five　minutes　later　the　anchor　chains　were　cut　away　and　the　little　Pisto；　like　an　ant　trying　to　move　an　elephant；　buried　her　heavy　rope　bow　fender　against　the　huge　stern　of　the　Ozero　Baykai。　Inch　by　inch；　almost　imperceptibly　at　first；　and　then　yard　by　yard　the　tug　began　nudging　the　tanker　away　from　the　refinery　and　toward　the　middle　of　the　bay。


　　　　Pitt　observed　the　slothful　movement　of　the　Ozero　Baykai　through　a　pair　of　night　glasses。　Fortunately　the　ebb　tide　was　working　in　their　favor；　pulling　the　behemoth　farther　from　the　core　of　the　city。
　　　　He　had　found　a　self…contained　breathing　unit　and　searched　the　holds　for　any　sign　of　a　detonating　device；　but　could　find　nothing。　He　came　to　the　conclusion　it　must　have　been　buried　somewhere　under　the　ammonium　nitrate　in　one　of　the　middle　cargo　holds。　After　nearly　two　hours；　he　climbed　to　the　main　deck　and　thankfully　breathed　in　the　cool　breeze　off　the　sea。
　　　　Pitt's　watch　read　4：30　when　the　Pisto　came　about　and　returned　to　the　docks。　She　made　straight　for　the　munitions　ship。　Jack　backed　her　in　until　Moe's　men　hauled　in　the　tow　wire　that　was　unreeled　from　the　great　winch　on　the　stern　of　the　tug　and　made　fast　to　the　Ozero　Zaysan's　aft　bollards。　The　lines　were　cast　off；　but　just　as　the　Pisto　prepared　to　pull；　a　military　convoy　of　four　trucks　came　roaring　onto　the　wharf。
　　　　Pitt　dropped　down　the　gangway　and　hit　the　dock　at　a　dead　run。　He　dodged　around　a　loading　crane　and　stopped　at　the　stern　line。　He　heaved　the　fat；　oily　rope　off　the　bollard　and　let　it　fall　in　the　water。　There　was　no　time　to　cast　off　the　bow　line。　Heavily　armed　men　were　dropping　from　the　trucks　and　forming　into　bat　teams。　He　climbed　the　gangway　and　engaged　the　electric　winch　that　lifted　it　level　with　the　deck　to　prevent　any　assault　from　the　wharf。
　　　　He　snatched　up　the　bridge　phone　and　rang　the　engine　room。　〃Manny；　they're　here〃　was　all　he　said。
　　　　〃I've　got　vacuum　and　enough　steam　in　one　boiler　to　move　her。〃
　　　　〃Nice　work；　my　friend。　You　shaved　off　an　hour　and　a　half。〃
　　　　〃Then　let's　haul　ass。〃
　　　　Pitt　walked　over　to　the　ship's　telegraph　and　moved　the　pointers　to　Stand　By。　He　threw　the　helm　over　so　the　stern　would　swing　away　from　the　pier　first。　Then　he　rang　for　Dead　Slow　Astern。
　　　　Manny　rang　back　from　the　engine　room　and　Pitt　could　feel　the　engines　begin　to　vibrate　beneath　his　feet。


　　　　Clark　realized　with　sudden　dismay　that　his　small　group　of　men　were　greatly　outnumbered　and　any　escape　route　cut　off。　He　also　discovered　that　they　were　not　up　against　ordinary　Cuban　soldiers　but　an　elite　force　of　Soviet　marines。　At　best　he　might　gain　a　few　minutes'　grace　enough　time　for　the　ships　to　move　clear　of　the　docks。
　　　　He　reached　into　a　canvas　bag　hanging　from　his　belt　and　took　out　a　grenade。　He　stepped　from　the　shadows　and　lobbed　the　grenade　into　the　rear　truck。　The　explosion　came　like　a　dull　thump；　followed　by　a　brilliant　flash　of　flame　as　the　fuel　tank　burst。　The　truck　seemed　to　blossom　outward；　and　men　were　thrown　across　the　dock　like　fiery　bowling　pins。
　　　　He　ran　through　the　dazed　and　disorganized　Russians；　leaping　over　the　screaming　injured　who　were　rolling　around　the　dock　desperately　trying　to　douse　their　flaming　clothing。　The　next　detonations　came　in　rapid　succession；　echoing　across　the　bay；　as　he　heaved　three　more　grenades　under　the　remaining　trucks。
　　　　Fresh　flame　and　clouds　of　smoke　billowed　above　the　roofs　of　the　warehouses。　The　marines　frantically　abandoned　their　vehicles　and　scrambled　for　their　lives　out　of　the　holocaust。　A　few　were　galvanized　into　action　and　began　firing　into　the　darkness　at　anything　that　vaguely　resembled　a　human　form。　The　ragged　fusillade　mingled　with　the　sound　of　shattering　glass　as　the　windows　of　the　warehouses　were　blown　away。
　　　　Clark's　small　team　of　six　fighters　held　their　fire。　The　few　shots　that　came　in　their　direction　went　over　their　heads。　They　waited　as　Clark　mingled　in　the　disorganized　melee；　unsuspected　in　his　Cuban　officer's　uniform；　cursing　in　fluent　Russian　and　ordering　the　marines　to　regroup　and　charge　up　the　wharf。
　　　　〃Form　up！　Form　up！〃　he　shouted　excitedly。　〃They're　running　away。　Move；　damn　you；　before　the　traitors　escape！〃
　　　　He　broke　off　suddenly　as　he　came　face　to　face　with　Borchev。　The　Soviet　major's　mouth　fell　open　in　total　incredulity　and　before　he　could　close　it　Clark　grabbed　him　by　the　arm　and　hurled　him　over　the　dock　into　the　water。　Fortunately；　no　one　took　notice　amid　the　confusion。
　　　　〃Follow　me！〃　Clark　yelled；　and　began　running　up　the　dock　where　it　passed　between　two　warehouses。　Individually；　and　in　groups　of　four　or　five；　the　Soviet　marines　raced　after　him；　crouching　and　zigzagging　in　highly　trained　movements　across　the　wharf；　laying　down　a　sheet　of　fire　as　they　advanced。
　　　　They　seemed　to　have　overe　the　paralyzing　shock　of　surprise　and　were　determined　to　retaliate　against　their　unseen　enemy；　never　knowing　they　were　escaping　from　one　nightmare　and　entering　another。　No　one　questioned　Clark's　orders。　Without　their　mander　to　tell　them　otherwise；　the　nons　exhorted　their　men　to　follow　the　officer　in　the　Cuban　uniform　who　was　leading　the　attack。
　　　　When　the　marines　had　dodged　their　way　between　the　warehouses；　Clark　threw　himself　flat　as　though　hit。　It　was　the　signal　for　his　men　to　open　up。　The　Soviets　were　hit　from　all　sides。　Many　were　cut　off　their　feet。　They　made　perfect　targets；　silhouetted　by　the　blazing　pyre　of　the　trucks。　Those　who　survived　the　scything　sweep　of　death　returned　the　fire。　The　staccato　crash　of　sound　was　deafening　as　shells　thudded　into　wooden　walls　and　human　flesh　or　missed　and　richocheted；　whining　into　the　night。
　　　　Clark　rolled　violently　toward　the　cover　of　a　packing　crate；　but　was　struck　in　the　thigh　and　again　by　a　bullet　that　passed　through　both　wrists。
　　　　Badly　battered；　but　still　fighting；　the　Soviet　marines　began　to　pull　back。　They　made　a　futile　attempt　to　break　out　of　the　dock　area　and　reach　the　safety　of　a　concrete　wall　running　along　the　main　boulevard；　but　two　of　Clark's　men　laid　down　a　hail　of　fire　that　stopped　them　in　their　tracks。
　　　　Clark　lay　there　behind　the　crate；　blood　streaming　from　shattered　veins；　his　life　draining　away；　and　he　was　helpless　to　stop　it。　His　hands　hung　like　broken　tree　limbs；　and　there　was　no　feeling　in　his　fingers。　Blackness　was　already　closing　in　when　he　dragged　himself　to　the　edge　of　the　pier　and　stared　out　over　the　harbor。
　　　　The　last　sight　his　eyes　were　to　ever　see　was　the　outline　of　the　two　cargo　ships　against　the　lights　on　the　opposite　shore。　They　were　swinging　clear　of　the　docks　and　turning　toward　the　harbor　entrance。




　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　



　　　　While　the　battle　was　raging　on　the　wharf；　the　little　Pisto　took　the　tow　and　began　pulling　the　Ozero　Zaysarv　into　the　harbor　stern　first。　Struggling　mightily；　she　buried　her　huge　single　propeller　in　the　oily　water　and　boiled　it　into　a　cauldron　of　foam。
　　　　The　20；000…ton　vessel　began　to　move；　her　formless　bulk　animated　by　orange　flames　as　she　slipped　into　open　water。　Once　free　of　the　docks　Jack　made　a　wide　180…degree　sweep；　pivoting　the　munitions　ship　until　her　bow　faced　the　harbor　entrance。　Then　the　tow　wire　was　released　and　winched　in。
　　　　In　the　wheelhouse　of　the　Amy　Bigalow　Pitt　gripped　the　helm　and　hoped　something　would　give。　He　tensed；　scarcely　daring　to　breathe。　The　still…fastened　bowline　came　taut　and　creaked　from　the　tremendous　stress　placed　on　it　by　the　backing　vessel　and　stoutly　refused　to　snap。　Like　a　dog　straining　at　a　leash；　the　Amy　Bigalow　tucked　her　bow　slightly；　increasing　the　tension。　The　rope　held；　but　the　bollard　was　torn　from　its　dock　mountings　with　a　loud　crunch　of　splintered　wood。
　　　　A　tremor　ran　through　the　ship　and　she　gradually　began　to　back　away　into　the　harbor。　Pitt　put　the　wheel　over　and　slowly　the　bows　came　around　until　she　had　turned　broadside　to　the　receding　dock。　The　vibration　from　the　engine　smoothed　out　and　soon　they　were　quietly　gliding　astern　with　a　light　wisp　of　smoke　rising　from　the　funnel。
　　　　The　whole　waterfront　seemed　to　be　ablaze；　the　flames　from　the　burning　trucks　casting　an　eerie；　flickering　light　inside　the　wheelhouse。　All　hands　except　Manny　came　up　from　the　engine　room　and　stood　by　on　the　bow。　Now　that　he　had　room　to　maneuver；　Pitt　spun　the　wheel　hard　to　starboard　and　rang　Slow　Ahead　on　the　telegraph。　Manny　answered　and　the　Amy　Bigalow　lo