cc.floodtide-第21部分

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　to　be　assassins　and　arsonists？〃
　〃Since　midnight；〃　he　said　briefly　as　he　turned　and　set　off　for　the　cabin。　〃And　I'm　not　a　scientist；　I'm　an　engineer。　Now　make　your　call；　and　hurry。　As　sure　as　the　sun　sets　in　the　west；　we're　going　to　have　pany　very　soon。〃
　Ten　minutes　later　Pitt　returned　from　the　house　loaded　down　with　a　small　box　of　food　and　ten　blankets。　He　had　also　hurriedly　changed　into　more　practical　clothes。　He　failed　to　hear　the　silenced　pair　of　bullets　that　smashed　into　the　radiator　of　his　rental　car。　He　only　caught　the　antifreeze　flooding　the　ground　under　the　front　bumper　when　it　reflected　off　the　night…lights　he'd　left　burning　on　the　porch　of　the　cabin。
　〃So　much　for　driving　out　of　here；〃　he　said　quietly　to　Julia　as　she　distributed　what　little　food　he　had；　and　he　passed　out　the　blankets　to　the　shivering　Chinese。　〃What　do　you　mean？〃　she　asked。
　〃Your　friends　just　punctured　my　radiator。　We　wouldn't　make　the　main　highway　before　the　engine　heated　up　and　the　bearings　froze。〃
　〃I　wish　you'd　stop　calling　them　my　friends；〃　she　said　flippantly。
　〃Merely　a　form　of　speech。〃
　〃I　fail　to　see　a　problem。　The　lake　will　be　crawling　with　INS　and　FBI　agents　in　another　hour。〃
　〃Too　late；〃　said　Pitt　seriously。　〃Shang's　men　will　be　all　over　us　long　before　they　arrive。　By　disabling　my　car；　they　bought　time　to　organize　a　raiding　party。　They're　probably　closing　off　the　road　and　forming　a　net　around　the　cabin　while　we　stand　here。〃
　〃You　can't　expect　these　people　to　hike　miles　through　the　woods　in　the　dark；〃　said　Julia　firmly。　〃They　can　endure　no　　more。　There　must　be　another　way　to　get　them　to　safety。　You　have　to　think　of　something。〃
　〃Why　does　it　always　have　to　be　me？〃
　〃Because　you're　all　we've　got。〃 I　Feminine　logic；　Pitt　mused。　How　do　they　e　by　it？　〃Are　you　in　the　mood　for　romance？〃
　〃Romance？〃　She　was　pletely　taken　aback。　〃At　a　time　　　　　　j　like　this？　Are　you　crazy？〃
　〃Not　really；〃　said　Pitt　casually。　〃But　you　must　admit；　it's　a　lovely　night　for　a　boat　ride　under　the　stars。〃
　
　They　came　to　kill　Pitt　shortly　before　dawn。　They　came　quietly　and　deliberately；　surrounding　and　approaching　the　cabin　in　a　well…timed　and　organized　operation。　Kung　Chong　spoke　softly　into　his　portable　radio；　coordinating　his　men's　movements。　Kung　Chong　was　an　old　hand　at　conducting　raids　on　houses　of　dissidents　when　he　was　an　agent　with　the　People's　Republic　intelligence　service。　He　did　not　like　what　he　saw　of　the　cabin　from　the　woods。　The　outside　floodlights　were　on　around　the　porch；　playing　havoc　with　the　raiders'　night　vision。
　
　The　lights　of　every　room　were　also　turned　on；　and　country…western　music　blasted　from　a　radio。
　
　His　team　of　twenty　men　had　converged　on　the　cabin　along　the　road　and　through　the　forest　after　his　advance　scout　radioed　that　he　had　shot　holes　in　the　radiator　of　the　occupant's　car。　Kung　Chong　was　certain　that　all　paths　of　escape　were　cut　off　and　that　no　one　had　passed　through　his　cordon。　Whoever　was　living　in　the　cabin　had　to　be　there。　And　yet　Kung　Chong　sensed　all　was　not　going　according　to　plan。
　
　Throwing　light　around　a　darkened　building　usually　indicated　an　ambush　by　people　waiting　to　open　fire　inside。　The　brightly　lit　yard　canceled　the　use　of　night　glasses。　But　this　situation　was　different。　The　illuminated　interior　rooms　and　the　loud　music　puzzled　Kung　Chong。　Total　surprise　seemed　out　of　the　question。　Until　his　men　could　gain　the　relative　safety　of　the　cabin　walls　and　break　through　the　doors；　they　were　sitting　ducks　to　anyone　with　automatic　weapons　as　they　rushed　across　the　yard。　He　moved　from　position　to　position　around　the　cabin；　peering　through　the　windows　with　a　pair　of　binoculars；　observing　a　solitary　man　who　sat　at　a　table　in　the　kitchen；　the　only　room　unrecorded　by　interior　surveillance　cameras。　He　wore　a　baseball　cap　and　reading　glasses　and　was　bent　over　the　table　seemingly　reading　a　book。　A　cabin　ablaze　with　lights。　The　radio　turned　up　at　full　volume。　A　man　fully　dressed　and　reading　a　book　at　five…thirty　in　the　morning？　Kung　Chong　sniffed　the　air　and　smelled　a　setup。
　
　He　sent　for　one　of　his　men　who　carried　a　sniper　rifle　with　a　scope　and　a　long　suppressor　on　the　muzzle。　〃You　see　the　man　sitting　in　the　kitchen？〃　he　asked　quietly。
　
　The　sniper　nodded　silently。
　
　〃Shoot　him。〃
　
　Anything　less　than　a　hundred　yards　was　child's　play。　A　good　shot　with　a　handgun　could　have　hit　the　target。　The　sniper　ignored　the　scope　and　sighted　in　on　the　man　seated　at　the　table　with　the　gun's　iron　sights。　The　shot　sounded　like　the　quick　clap　of　hands　followed　by　a　tinkle　of　glass。　Kung　Chong　peered　through　his　binoculars。　The　bullet　had　made　a　small　hole　in　the　windowpane；　but　the　figure　remained　upright　at　the　table　as　if　nothing　had　happened。
　
　〃You　fool；〃　he　growled。　〃You　failed　to　hit　him。〃
　The　sniper　shook　his　head。　〃At　this　distance　it　is　impossible　to　miss。〃
　〃Shoot　again。〃
　
　The　sniper　shrugged；　lined　up　the　shot　and　pulled　the　trigger。　The　man　at　the　table　remained　immobile。　〃Either　the　target　is　already　dead　or　he　is　in　a　a。　I　struck　him　above　the　bridge　of　the　nose。　See　the　hole　for　yourself。〃
　
　Kung　Chong　focused　his　glasses　on　the　face　of　the　man　in　the　kitchen。　There　was　a　neat　round　hole　above　the　bridge　of　the　nose　above　the　reading　glasses；　and　it　wasn't　bleeding。
　
　〃Curse　that　devil！〃　Kung　Chong　snarled。　No　stealth。　No　orders　quietly　issued　over　his　radio。　He　shouted　wildly　across　the　clearing　in　front　of　the　cabin；　〃Move　in！　Move　in！〃
　
　Men　dressed　in　black　materialized　from　the　shadows　cast　by　the　trees　and　ran　across　the　yard；　past　the　car　and　burst　through　the　front　door　of　the　cabin。　They　spread　through　the　rooms　like　a　flood；　weapons　at　the　ready；　poised　to　shoot　at　the　first　hint　of　resistance。　Kung　Chong　was　the　fifth　man　into　the　living　room。　He　rushed　past　his　men　and　burst　into　the　kitchen。
　
　〃What　manner　of　devil　is　he？〃　Kung　Chong　muttered　as　he　picked　up　the　dummy　sitting　in　the　chair　and　threw　it　on　the　floor。　The　baseball　hat　fell　away　and　the　reading　glasses　shattered；　revealing　a　crude　face　hurriedly　molded　out　of　wet　newspaper　and　painted　sloppily　with　vegetable　dyes。
　
　Kung　Chong's　second　in　mand　came　up　to　him。　〃The　cabin　is　empty。　No　sign　of　our　quarry。〃
　His　lips　pressed　together　in　a　thin　line　as　he　nodded；　not　surprised　by　the　report。　He　touched　the　transmit　button　on　his　radio　and　spoke　a　name。　Lo　Han's　voice　responded　immediately。
　〃Report。〃
　〃He　has　escaped；〃　said　Kung　Chong　simply。
　There　was　a　moment's　pause；　then　Lo　Han　said　irritably；　〃How　is　it　possible　he　sidestepped　your　men？〃
　〃No　one　larger　than　a　rat　could　have　slipped　through　the　cordon。　He　cannot　be　far　away。〃
　〃Most　odd。　Not　in　the　cabin；　not　in　the　forest；　where　could　he　have　gone？〃
　Kung　Chong　stared　out　the　window　at　the　boathouse　that　was　being　searched　by　his　men。　〃The　lake；〃　he　answered。　〃He　can　only　be　on　the　lake。〃
　
　He　skirted　the　dummy　lying　on　the　floor　and　ran　out　the　back　door　across　the　porch　and　onto　the　dock。　He　shoved　aside　his　men　and　stepped　inside　the　boathouse。　The　sailboat　was　hanging　in　its　cradle；　the　kayaks　and　canoe　still　in　their　wall　racks。　He　stood　numb；　aware　of　the　enormity　of　his　blunder；　the　incredible　ease　with　which　he　had　been　deceived。　He　should　have　known；　at　least　guessed；　how　the　man　in　the　cabin　had　slipped　through　his　fingers。
　
　The　old　boat；　the　Chris…Craft　runabout　that　Kung　Chong　had　observed　earlier　after　a　personal　search　of　the　cabin　and　boathouse；　was　missing。
　Nearly　two　miles　away；　it　was　a　sight　to　stir　the　blood　of　those　fortunate　people　who　lived　in　the　past。　The　beautifully　designed　mahogany　hull；　contoured　in　what　old…timers　called　a　tumble…home　stern；　curved　gracefully　from　the　transom　forward　to　the　engine　partment；　which　sat　between　the　forward　and　aft　cockpits。　Weighted　down　with　twelve　adults　and　two　children　packed　into　its　dual　cockpits；　the　sixty…seven…year…old　125…horsepower　Chrysler　marine　engine　lifted　the　bow　and　thrust　the　boat　over　the　water　at　nearly　thirty　miles　an　hour；　casting　twin　sheets　of　water　to　the　sides　and　leaving　a　rooster　tail　in　her　wake。　Pitt　sat　behind　the　wheel　of　the　Foleys'　1933　Chris…Craft　runabout　with　the　little　Chinese　boy　on　his　lap　as　the　boat　planed　over　the　waters　of　the　Orion　River　toward　Grapevine　Bay。
　
　After　explaining　his　latest　plot　to　Julia；　Pitt　had　quickly　put　two　of　the　elderly　Chinese　men　to　work　siphoning　gas　out　of　the　car's　tank　and　transferring　it　into　the　tank　of　the　runabout。　Because　the　big　Chrysler　marine　engine　had　not　turned　over　for　several　months；　Pitt　also　replaced　the　battery　with　the　one　from　his　car。　With　Julia　Lee　translating；　he　instructed　the　senior　citizens　to　take　the　paddles　from　the　kayaks　and　canoe；　and　demonstrated　the　proper　method　of　propelling　the　runabout　without　undue　splashing　noises。　Considering　the　fatigue　of　the　elderly　immigrants　and　drawback　of　working　in　the　dark；　the　enterprise　went　surprisingly　smoothly。
　
　Suddenly　Pitt　turned　and　rushed　out　of　the　boathouse。
　〃Where　are　you　going？〃　shouted　Julia。
　〃I　almost　forgot　my　best　pal；〃　he　yelled　back；　running　across　the　dock　to　the　cabin。　He　was　back　in　two　minutes　with　a　small　bundle　under　one　arm　wrapped　in　a　towel。
　〃That's　your　best　pal？〃　asked　Julia。
　〃I　never　leave　home　without　him；〃　he　said。
　Without　further　explanation　he　began　helping　everyone　in　the　boat。　When　the　drawn　and　hollow…eyed　immigrants　were　stuffed　into　the　confined　dual　cockpits；　Pitt　opened　the　boat…house　door　and　whispered　the　order　for　everyone　to　paddle。　They　had　hardly　traveled　little　more　than　a　quarter　of　a　mile；　staying　along　the　shoreline　in　the　shadows；　when　the　weary　Chinese　began　giving　up　from　the　effects　of　exposure　and　exhaustion。　Pitt　continued　stroking　until　the　runabout　was　at　last　caught　in　the　current　of　the　river。　Only　then　did　he　lay　his　paddle　aside　and　catch　his　breath　for　a　few　moments。　Luck　was　with　them；　they　had　yet　to　be　discovered。　He　waited　until　they　had　drifted　down　the　river　out　of　earshot　of　the　lake　before　he　tried　to　start　up　the　engine。　He　primed　the　twin　carburetors　Foley　had　installed　to　update　the　intake　manifold。　Then　he　made　a　wish　on　every　star　in　sight　and　pushed　the　starter　button　on　the　dashboard。
　
　Th