inca.gold-第70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！


ocal　officials。〃
　　　　〃They　couldn't　wait　to　sign　on　board　after　we　promised　them　a　share　of　the　treasure；〃　Sarason　boasted。
　　　　〃Considering　how　much　there　is　to　go　around；〃　said　Pitt；　〃you　could　afford　to　play　Santa　Claus。〃
　　　　Sarason　looked　at　the　setting　sun。　〃It's　getting　late　in　the　day。　I　think　we've　chatted　long　enough。〃　He　turned　and　spoke　a　name　that　sent　a　shiver　through　Pitt。　〃Tupac；　e　and　say　hello　to　the　man　who　made　you　impotent。〃
　　　　Tupac　Amaru　stepped　from　behind　one　of　the　guards　and　stood　in　front　of　Pitt；　his　teeth　set　and　grinning　like　a　skull　on　a　pirate's　Jolly　Roger　flag。　He　had　the　joyful　but　clinical　look　of　a　butcher　sizing　up　a　slab　of　prime；　specially　aged　beef。
　　　　〃I　told　you　I　would　make　you　suffer　as　you　made　me；〃　Amaru　said　ominously。
　　　　Pitt　studied　the　evil　face　with　a　strangely　paralyzed　intensity。　He　didn't　need　a　football　coach　to　diagram　what　was　in　store　for　him。　He　braced　his　body　to　begin　the　scheme　he　had　formed　in　the　back　of　his　mind　right　after　he　had　stepped　out　of　the　helicopter。　He　moved　toward　Loren；　but　stepped　slightly　sideways　and　inconspicuously　began　to　hyperventilate。
　　　　〃If　you　are　the　one　who　harmed　Congresswoman　Smith；　you　will　die　as　surely　as　you　stand　there　with　that　stupid　look　on　your　face。〃
　　　　Sarason　laughed。　〃No；　no。　You；　Mr。　Pitt；　are　not　going　to　kill　anybody。〃
　　　　〃Neither　are　you。　Even　in　Mexico　you'd　hang　if　there　was　a　witness　to　your　executions。〃
　　　　〃I'd　be　the　first　to　admit　it。〃　Sarason　surveyed　Pitt　inquiringly。　〃But　what　witness　are　you　talking　about？〃　He　paused　to　sweep　an　arm　around　the　empty　sea。　〃As　you　can　see；　the　nearest　land　is　empty　desert　almost　twenty　kilometers　away；　and　the　only　vessel　in　sight　is　our　fishing　boat　standing　off　the　starboard　bow。〃
　　　　Pitt　tilted　his　head　up　and　stared　at　the　wheelhouse。　〃What　about　the　ferryboat's　pilot？〃
　　　　All　the　heads　turned　as　one；　all　that　is　except　Gunn's。　He　nodded　unobserved　at　Pitt　and　then　raised　a　hand；　pointing　at　the　empty　pilothouse。　〃Hide；　Pedro！〃　he　cried　loudly。　〃Run　and　hide。〃
　　　　Three　seconds　were　all　Pitt　needed。　Three　seconds　to　run　four　steps　and　leap　over　the　railing　into　the　sea。
　　　　Two　of　the　guards　caught　the　sudden　movement　from　the　edge　of　their　vision；　whirled　and　fired　one　quick　burst　from　their　automatic　rifles　on　reflex。　But　they　fired　high；　and　they　fired　late。　Pitt　had　struck　the　water　and　vanished　into　the　murky　depths。

　　　　Pitt　hit　the　water　stroking　and　kicking　with　the　fervor　of　a　possessed　demon。　An　Olympic　mittee　of　judges　would　have　been　impressed；　he　must　have　set　a　new　world　record　for　the　underwater　dash。　The　water　was　warm　but　the　visibility　below　the　surface　was　less　than　a　meter　due　to　the　murk　caused　by　silt　flowing　in　from　the　Colorado　River。　The　blast　of　the　gunfire　was　magnified　by　the　density　of　the　water　and　sounded　like　an　artillery　barrage　to　Pitt's　ears。
　　　　The　bullets　struck　and　penetrated　the　sea　with　the　unlikely　sound　of　a　zipper　being　closed。　Pitt　leveled　out　when　his　hands　scoured　the　bottom；　causing　an　eruption　of　fine　silt。　He　recalled　learning　during　his　U。S。　Air　Force　days　that　a　bullet's　velocity　was　spent　after　traveling　a　meter　and　a　half　（5　feet）　through　water。　Beyond　that　depth；　it　sank　harmlessly　to　the　seafloor。
　　　　When　the　light　above　the　surface　went　dark；　he　knew　he　had　passed　under　the　port　side　of　the　Alhambra's　hull。　His　timing　was　lucky。　It　was　approaching　high　tide　and　the　ferryboat　was　now　riding　two　meters　off　the　bottom。　He　swam　slowly　and　steadily；　exhaling　a　small　amount　of　air　from　his　lungs；　angling　on　a　course　astern　that　he　hoped　would　bring　him　up　on　the　starboard　side　near　the　big　paddlewheels。　His　oxygen　intake　was　nearly　exhausted；　and　he　began　to　see　a　darkening　fuzziness　creeping　around　the　borders　of　his　vision；　when　the　shadow　of　the　ferry　abruptly　ended　and　he　could　see　a　bright　surface　again。
　　　　He　broke　into　air　2　meters　（6。5　feet）　abaft　of　the　sheltered　interior　of　the　starboard　paddlewheel。　There　was　no　question　of　his　risking　exposure。　It　was　that　or　drown。　The　question　was　whether　Sarason's　goons　had　predicted　what　his　game　plan　would　be　and　run　over　from　the　opposite　side　of　the　vessel。　He　could　still　hear　sporadic　gunfire　striking　the　water　on　the　port　side；　and　his　hopes　rose。　They　weren't　on　to　him；　at　least　not　yet。
　　　　Pitt　sucked　in　hurried　breaths　of　pure　air　while　getting　his　bearings。　And　then　he　was　diving　under　the　temporary　safety　of　the　ferry's　huge　paddlewheels。　After　gauging　the　distance；　he　raised　a　hand　above　his　head　and　slowly　kicked　upward。　His　hand　made　contact　with　an　unyielding　wood　beam。　He　clutched　it　and　lifted　his　head　above　the　water。　He　felt　as　if　he　had　entered　a　vast　barn　with　support　beams　running　every　which　way。
　　　　He　looked　up　at　the　great　circular　power　train　that　drove　the　big　ferry　through　the　water。　It　was　a　radial　type　similar　in　construction　and　action　to　the　old　picturesque　waterwheels　used　to　power　flour　and　sawmills。　Strong　cast…iron　hubs　mounted　on　the　drive　shaft　had　sockets　attached　to　wooden　arms　that　extended　outward　to　a　diameter　of　10　meters　（33　feet）。　The　ends　of　the　arms　were　then　bolted　into　long　horizontal　planks　called　floats　that　swung　around　and　around；　dipping　into　the　water；　pushing　backward　while　driving　the　ferry　forward。　The　entire　unit　and　its　mate　on　the　opposite　side　were　housed　in　giant　hoods　set　inside　the　ferry's　hull。
　　　　Pitt　hung　on　to　one　of　the　floats　and　waited　as　a　small　school　of　nosy　spotted　sand　bass　circled　around　his　legs。　He　was　not　pletely　out　of　the　woods　yet。　There　was　an　access　door　for　crewmen　to　perform　maintenance　on　the　paddlewheel。　He　decided　to　remain　in　the　water。　A　sane　mind　dictated　that　it　would　be　a　big　mistake　to　be　caught　in　the　act　of　climbing　up　the　wooden　arms　by　some　tough　customer　who　burst　through　the　access　door　with　an　itchy　trigger　finger。　Better　to　be　in　a　position　to　duck　under　the　water　at　the　first　sound　of　entry。
　　　　He　could　hear　footsteps　running　on　the　auto　deck　above；　accented　by　an　occasional　burst　of　gunfire。　Pitt　couldn't　see　anything；　but　he　didn't　need　a　lecture　to　know　what　Sarason's　men　were　doing。　They　were　roving　around　the　open　decks　above；　shooting　at　anything　that　vaguely　resembled　a　body　under　the　water。　He　could　hear　voices　shouting；　but　the　words　came　muffled。　No　large　fish　within　a　radius　of　50　meters　（164　feet）　survived　the　bombardment。
　　　　The　click　of　the　lock　on　the　access　door　came　as　he　had　expected。　He　slipped　deeper　into　the　water　until　only　half　his　head　was　exposed　but　he　was　still　hidden　to　anyone　above　by　one　of　the　huge　floats。
　　　　He　could　not　see　the　unshaven　face　that　peered　downward　through　the　paddlewheel　at　the　water；　but　this　time　he　heard　a　voice　loud　and　clear　from　behind　the　intruder　at　the　door；　a　voice　he　had　e　to　know　too　well。　He　could　feel　the　hairs　stiffen　on　the　nape　of　his　neck　at　hearing　the　words　spoken　by　Amaru。
　　　　〃See　any　sign　of　him？〃
　　　　〃Nothing　down　here　but　fish；〃　grunted　the　searcher　in　the　access　door；　catching　sight　of　the　spotted　sand　bass。
　　　　〃He　didn't　surface　away　from　the　ship。　If　he's　not　dead；　he　must　be　hiding　somewhere　underneath　the　ship。〃
　　　　〃Nobody　hiding　down　here。　A　waste　of　energy　to　bother　looking。　We　put　enough　lead　into　him　to　use　his　corpse　for　an　anchor。〃
　　　　〃I　won't　feel　satisfied　until　I　see　the　body；〃　said　Amaru　in　a　businesslike　tone。
　　　　〃You　want　a　body；〃　said　the　gunman；　pulling　back　through　the　access　door；　〃then　drag　a　grappling　hook　h　rough　the　silt。　That's　the　only　way　you'll　ever　see　him　again。〃
　　　　〃Back　to　the　forward　boarding　ramp；〃　Amaru　ordered。　〃The　fishing　boat　is　returning。〃
　　　　Pitt　could　hear　the　diesel　throb　and　feel　the　beat　of　the　fishing　boat's　propellers　through　the　water　as　it　pulled　alongside　to　take　off　Samson　and　his　mercenary　scum。　Pitt　wondered　vaguely　what　his　friends　would　say　to　him　for　running　out　on　them　even　though　it　was　a　desperate　measure　to　save　their　lives。
　　　　Nothing　was　going　according　to　plan。　Sarason　was　two　steps　ahead　of　Pitt。
　　　　Already　Pitt　had　allowed　Loren　and　Gunn　to　suffer　at　the　hands　of　the　art　thieves。　Already　he'd　stupidly　done　nothing　while　the　crew　and　ferryboat　were　captured。　Already　he'd　given　away　the　secret　to　Huascar's　treasure。　The　way　he　was　handling　events；　Pitt　wouldn't　have　been　surprised　if　Sarason　and　his　cronies　elected　him　chairman　of　the　board　of　Solpemachaco。
　　　　Nearly　an　hour　passed　before　he　sensed　the　sounds　of　the　fishing　boat　die　in　the　distance。　This　was　followed　by　the　beating　rotor　of　a　helicopter　lifting　off　the　ferry；　indisputably　the　NUMA　helicopter。　Pitt　cursed。　Another　gift　to　the　criminals。
　　　　Darkness　had　fallen　and　no　lights　reflected　on　the　water。　Pitt　wondered　why　the　men　on　the　upper　decks　had　taken　so　long　to　evacuate　the　vessel。　His　absolute　conviction　was　that　one　or　more　would　be　left　behind　to　take　care　of　him　in　the　event　the　dead　came　back　to　life。　Amaru　and　Samson　could　not　kill　the　others　unless　they　knew　with　cold　certainty　that　Pitt　was　dead　and　could　tell　no　tales　to　the　authorities；　especially　the　news　media。
　　　　Pitt　could　feel　apprehension　in　his　chest　like　a　stone　tied　to　his　heart。　He　was　at　a　distinct　disadvantage。　If　Loren　and　Rudi　had　been　removed　from　the　Alhambra；　he　had　to　get　ashore　somehow　and　inform　Giordino　and　the　Customs　officials　in　the　U。S。　border　town　of　Calexico　of　the　situation。　And　what　of　the　crew？　Caution　dictated　that　he　must　be　certain　Amaru　and　his　friends　were　no　longer　on　board。　If　one　of　them　stayed　behind　to　see　if　he　was　only　playing　dead；　they　could　wait　him　out。　They　had　all　the　time　in　the　world。　He　had　practically　none。
　　　　He　pushed　away　from　the　float；　curled　over　and　dived　under　the　hull。　The　bottom　silt　seemed　closer　to　the　keel　than　he　remembered　from　his　earlier　dive。　It　didn't　seem　logical　until　he　passed　under　a　bilge　exhaust　pipe　and　felt　a　strong　pull　of　suction。　Pitt　didn't　have　to　be　told　that　the　seacocks　in　the　bilge　had　been　opened。　Amaru　was　scuttling　the　Alhambra。
　　　　He　turned　and　swam　slowly　toward　the　end　of　the　ferryboat　where　he　had　left　the　helicopter。　He　took　the　risk　of　being　seen　by　surfacing　briefly　alongside　the　hull　beneath　the　deck　overhang　to　take　another　breath。　After　nearly　an　hour　and