cc.floodtide-第70部分

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arters　in　Hong　Kong　for　identification。　A　pity　we　can't　be　there　to　see　Shang's　face　when　he's　informed　that　we're　poking　around　another　one　of　his　sensitive　projects。〃
　〃Then　our　friends　will　be　back。〃
　〃You　can　bet　the　farm　on　it。〃
　〃Romberg　will　protect　us；〃　Giordino　said　jokingly。
　
　Pitt　looked　around　for　the　dog　and　found　him　curled　up　inside　the　shantyboat；　having　quickly　returned　to　his　catatonic　state。　〃That　I　seriously　doubt。〃
　
　AFTER　THE　RAINSQUALL　PASSED　AND　BEFORE　THE　LAST　RAYS　of　the　sun　vanished　beyond　the　marshlands　in　the　west；　Pitt　and　Giordino　moved　the　shantyboat　into　a　narrow　tributary　of　Hooker's　Bayou　and　moored　it　beneath　a　huge　cottonwood　tree　to　cloak　it　from　the　hovercraft's　radar。　Then　they　camouflaged　the　boat　with　reeds　and　dead　branches　from　the　cottonwood。　Romberg　only　came　alive　when　Pitt　fed　him　a　bowl　filled　with　catfish。　Giordino　offered　him　some　hamburger；　but　Romberg　wouldn't　touch　it；　happily　licking　his　chops　and　drooling　from　his　flews　while　consuming　the　fish。
　
　After　closing　the　shutters　and　hanging　blankets　over　the　windows　and　doors　to　black　out　interior　light；　Pitt　spread　the　topo　map　on　the　dining　table　and　traced　out　a　plan　of　action。　〃If　Shang's　security　force　runs　true　to　form；　they'll　have　a　mand　post　somewhere　along　the　banks　of　the　canal；　probably　in　the　center　so　they　can　cover　both　ends　quickly　against　trespassing　locals。〃
　〃A　canal　by　any　other　name　is　a　canal；〃　said　Giordino。　〃What　exactly　are　we　looking　for？〃
　Pitt　shrugged。　〃Your　guess　is　as　good　as　mine。〃
　〃Bodies　like　you　found　in　Orion　Lake？〃
　〃God；　I　hope　not；〃　Pitt　said　soberly。　〃But　if　Qin　Shang　is　smuggling　illegals　through　Sungari；　you　can　bet　he's　got　a　killing　ground　somewhere　in　the　area。　Dead　bodies　are　easy　to　hide　in　the　marshlands。　But　according　to　Doug　Wheeler；　boat　traffic　from　the　river　into　the　canal　is　nonexistent。〃
　〃Qin　Shang　didn't　excavate　an　eighteen…mile　trench　as　an　exercise　in　futility。〃
　〃Not　him；〃　Pitt　said　acridly。　〃The　catch　is　that　two　miles　of　excavation　could　have　easily　supplied　all　the　fill　he　required　to　build　Sungari。　And　the　question　is；　why　dig　another　sixteen　miles？〃
　〃Where　do　we　begin？〃　asked　Giordino。
　〃We'll　take　the　skiff　because　it's　less　likely　to　be　detected　by　their　security　systems。　After　loading　the　equipment；　we　paddle　up　Hooker's　Bayou　until　it　empties　into　the　canal。　Then　continue　east　to　Calzas。　After　we　see　whatever　there　is　of　interest；　we　work　back　toward　the　Atchafalaya　and　around　to　the　shantyboat。〃
　〃They　must　have　detection　systems　to　spot　trespassers。〃
　〃I'm　counting　on　them　using　the　same　limited　technology　they　had　at　Orion　Lake。　If　they　have　laser　detectors；　the　beams　must　be　set　to　sweep　above　the　marsh　grass。　Hunters　with　swamp　vehicles　or　fishermen　standing　in　their　boat　to　throw　a　net　can　be　distinguished　from　five　miles　away。　By　keeping　low　in　the　skiff　and　skirting　the　banks；　we　can　stay　below　any　sweeping　beam。〃
　Giordino　listened　to　Pitt's　plan　of　action　and　remained　silent　for　a　few　moments　after　he　finished。　He　sat　with　his　Etruscan　features　twisted　in　a　scowling　expression；　looking　like　a　mask　from　a　voodoo　ceremony。　Then　he　slowly　moved　his　head　from　side　to　side；　visualizing　long；　aching　hours　of　paddling　the　skiff。
　〃Well；〃　he　said　finally；　〃Mrs。　Giordino's　boy　is　going　to　have　a　pair　of　sore　arms　before　this　night　is　over。〃
　
　Doug　Wheeler's　forecast　of　a　waning　quarter　moon　was　correct。　Leaving　a　sated　and　dormant　Romberg　to　guard　the　shantyboat；　they　pushed　off　and　began　paddling　up　the　bayou；　easily　finding　their　way　along　the　twists　and　turns　by　the　lunar　light。　A　narrow　boat　with　graceful　lines；　the　skiff　moved　smoothly　with　little　exertion　on　their　part。　Whenever　a　cloud　passed　over　the　slim　crescent　of　the　moon；　Pitt　relied　on　the　night…vision　goggles　to　guide　their　course　as　the　bayou　narrowed　to　little　more　than　five　feet　in　width。
　The　marshlands　came　alive　at　night。　The　squadrons　of　mosquitoes　winged　into　the　night　air；　searching　for　juicy　targets。　But　Pitt　and　Giordino；　shielded　by　their　wet　suits　and　an　ample　layer　of　bug　repellent　on　their　faces；　necks　and　hands；　ignored　them。　The　frogs　croaked　in　a　chorus　of　thousands；　rising　in　a　crescendo；　then　breaking　off　suddenly　into　total　silence　before　beginning　again。　It　seemed　as　if　their　night　song　was　orchestrated　and　led　by　an　unseen　maestro。　The　marsh　grass　became　decorated　with　millions　of　lightning　bugs；　blinking　their　lights　on　and　off　like　falling　sparkles　from　dying　fireworks。　An　hour　and　a　half　later；　Pitt　and　Giordino　paddled　out　of　Hooker's　Bayou　into　the　canal。
　
　The　security　force　mand　post　was　lit　up　like　a　football　stadium。　Floodlights　spaced　around　two　acres　of　dry　land　illuminated　an　old　plantation　house　sheltered　by　live　oak　trees　on　a　weed…infested　lawn　that　rolled　down　a　slight　incline　to　the　bank　of　the　canal。　Three　stories　high　with　siding　that　was　warped　and　barely　hanging　on　to　support　beams　by　rusty　nails；　the　structure　looked　similar　in　architecture　to　the　house　in　the　movie　Psycho；　but　not　in　nearly　as　good　a　condition。　Several　of　the　shutters　hung　off…kilter　on　rusting　hinges；　and　the　attic　windows　were　broken。　Wooden　pillars　stood　in　rigid　formation　across　a　sagging　front　porch；　their　cornices　supporting　a　long；　sloping　roof。
　
　The　smell　of　Chinese　cooking　permeated　the　air。　Men　in　uniform　could　be　seen　through　the　uncurtained　windows　moving　around　inside。　Chinese　music；　a　scourge　to　the　ears　of　Westerners；　and　sung　by　a　female　who　screeched　as　if　she　was　giving　birth；　grated　over　the　marshlands。　The　living　room　of　the　old　manor　was　cluttered　with　a　maze　of　munication　and　security…detection　antennas。　Like　Orion　Lake；　there　were　no　guards　patrolling　the　mand…center　grounds。　They　had　no　fear　of　attack　and　placed　their　faith　in　the　electronic　systems。　The　hovercraft　was　tied　to　a　little　dock　that　floated　on　empty　oil　drums。　No　one　was　on　board。
　
　〃Head　toward　the　opposite　bank　and　paddle　very　slowly；〃　Pitt　whispered。　〃Keep　movement　to　a　minimum。〃
　Giordino　nodded　silently　and　dipped　his　paddle　carefully　into　the　water；　stroking　as　if　in　slow　motion。　Like　wraiths　gliding　through　the　night；　they　passed　through　the　shadows　of　the　canal　bank；　past　the　mand　post　and　up　the　canal　for　a　hundred　yards　before　Pitt　called　for　a　brief　rest　stop。　Stealth　was　not　an　option　but　rather　a　necessity；　since　they　had　not　packed　their　weapons　in　the　overloaded　skiff　to　save　weight　and　space。
　〃From　what　I've　experienced　of　their　security；〃　said　Pitt；　〃this　setup　is　more　slipshod　than　Orion　Lake。　The　detection　network　is　in　place；　but　they　don't　seem　conscientious　about　monitoring　it。〃
　〃They　caught　on　to　us　damned　quick　this　afternoon；〃　Giordino　reminded　him。
　〃No　trick　to　spot　a　ten…foot…high　houseboat　on　a　flat　field　of　grass　from　five　miles。　If　this　was　Orion　Lake；　they　would　have　been　observing　our　every　movement　five　seconds　after　we　stepped　into　the　skiff。　Yet　here；　we　move　right　under　then…noses　as　if　it　was　a　piece　of　cake。〃
　〃It's　beginning　to　look　a　lot　like　Christmas；〃　Giordino　observed。　〃No　presents　under　the　tree　that　contain　deep　dark　secrets。　But　you've　got　to　like　them　for　giving　us　free　passage。〃
　〃Let's　move　on；〃　said　Pitt。　〃Nothing　promising　here。　We've　got　a　lot　of　territory　to　cover。　The　security　force　may　be　lax　at　night；　but　they'd　have　to　be　blind　not　to　discover　us　if　we　don't　reach　the　shantyboat　before　the　sun　es　up。〃
　
　With　growing　confidence；　they　cast　off　any　thoughts　of　caution　and　began　stroking　vigorously　up　the　canal。　The　moon's　dim　glow　fell　over　the　bayou　and　cast　its　reflection　on　the　water　like　a　road　narrowing　to　a　pinpoint　as　it　traveled　over　the　horizon。　The　end　of　the　canal　seemed　impossibly　remote；　as　unattainable　as　a　mirage　in　the　desert。　Giordino　worked　his　paddle；　easily；　powerfully；　each　stroke　moving　the　skiff　four　feet　to　Pitt's　three。　The　night　air　was　balmy　but　damp。　Beneath　the　wet　suits　they　sweated　like　lobsters　in　a　pot；　but　they　dared　not　remove　them。　Their　light　skin；　although　tanned；　was　revealed　under　the　dying　moon　like　faces　in　a　black　velvet　painting。　Ahead；　they　could　see　clouds　outlined　and　glowing　from　an　unseen　light　source。　The　headlights　from　cars　and　trucks　could　also　be　seen；　sweeping　back　and　forth　on　a　distant　highway。
　
　Buildings　from　the　deserted　ghost　town　of　Calzas　loomed　up　on　both　banks；　the　canal　having　split　the　munity　in　two。　The　houses　huddled　eerily　in　ragged　clusters　on　a　large　section　of　land　that　rose　above　the　marshlands。　It　was　a　place　haunted　by　former　residents　who　could　no　longer　return。　The　town's　old　hotel　stood　silent　and　gaunt　across　from　a　gas　station　whose　pumps　still　stood　on　islands　outside　the　office　and　mechanic's　bays。　A　church　rose　forlorn　and　empty　beside　a　cemetery；　the　tombs　raised　above　the　ground；　little　shrines　weathered　and　bleached　white。　The　abandoned　town　was　soon　left　in　the　wake　of　the　skiff。
　At　long　last　they　finally　ran　out　of　canal。　All　excavation　ended　at　an　embankment　leading　up　to　a　major　highway。　At　the　base　of　the　highway　embankment；　rising　out　of　the　water　in　the　canal；　they　found　a　concrete　structure　that　looked　like　the　entrance　to　a　huge　underground　bunker。　It　was　sealed　tight　by　a　massive　steel　door　that　was　welded　closed。
　〃What　do　you　suppose　they　keep　in　there？〃　queried　Gior…dino。
　〃Nothing　they　need　to　get　at　fast；〃　Pitt　replied；　studying　the　door　through　the　night…vision　goggles。　〃It　would　take　an　hour　or　more　just　to　torch　it　open。〃　He　also　spied　an　electrical　conduit　that　ran　from　the　door　and　vanished　into　the　muck　of　the　canal。　He　removed　the　goggles　from　his　head　and　gestured　toward　the　shore。　〃e　on；　let's　beach　the　skiff　and　climb　to　the　highway。〃
　
　Giordino　looked　upward　speculatively　and　nodded。　They　paddled　to　the　bank　and　pulled　the　skiff　ashore。　The　embankment　was　not　steep　but　more　of　a　long；　sloping　grade。　They　reached　the　top　and　climbed　over　a　traffic　guardrail　and　were　almost　blown　back　down　the　slope　by　a　giant　truck　and　trailer　that　thundered　past。　Embellished　by　the　crescent　moon；　the　countryside　was　bathed　in　a　panoramic　sea　of　lights。
　
　The　view　was　not　quite　what　they　expected。　The　headlights　from　the　traffic；　strung　out　along　the　hi