ss.iftomorrowcomes-第62部分

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will　be　a　plane　ticket　for　Geneva　waiting　for　you　at　the　Swissair　counter。　Get　out　of　Amsterdam　as　fast　as　you　can。　As　soon　as　the　police　learn　of　the　robbery；　they'll　close　up　the　city　tight。　Nothing　wilt　go　wrong；　but　just　in　case；　here　is　the　address　and　the　key　to　a　safe　house　in　Amsterdam。　It　is　unoccupied。
　
　She　must　have　dozed；　for　she　awakened　with　a　start　as　the　container　as　jerked　into　the　air。　Tracy　felt　herself　swinging　through　space；　and　she　clung　to　the　sides　for　support。　The　container　settled　down　on　something　hard。　There　was　a　slam　of　a　car　door；　an　engine　roared　into　life；　and　a　moment　later　the　truck　was　moving。
　
　They　were　on　their　way　to　the　airport。
　
　The　scheme　had　been　worked　out　on　a　split…second　schedule。　The　container　with　Tracy　inside　was　due　to　reach　the　cargo　shipping　area　within　a　few　minutes　of　the　time　the　De　Beers　pallet　was　to　arrive。　The　driver　of　the　truck　carrying　Tracy　had　his　instructions：　Keep　it　at　a　steady　fifty　miles　an　hour。
　
　Traffic　on　the　road　to　the　airport　seemed　heavier　than　usual　that　morning；　but　the　driver　was　not　worried。　The　pallet　would　make　the　plane　in　time；　and　he　would　be　in　possession　of　a　bonus　of　50；000　francs；　enough　to　take　his　wife　and　two　children　on　a　vacation。　America；　he　thought。　We'll　go　to　Disney　World。
　
　He　looked　at　the　dashboard　clock　and　grinned　to　himself。　No　problem。　The　airport　was　only　three　miles　away；　and　he　had　ten　minutes　to　get　there。
　
　Exactly　on　schedule；　he　reached　the　turnoff　for　Air　France　Cargo　headquarters　at　the　Fertnord　sign　and　drove　past　the　low　gray　building　at　Roissy…Charles　de　Gaulle　Airport；　away　from　the　passenger　entrance；　where　barbed…wire　fences　separated　the　roadway　from　the　cargo　area。　As　he　headed　toward　the　enclosure　holding　the　enormous　warehouse；　which　occupied　three　blocks　and　was　filled　with　boxes　and　packages　and　containers　piled　on　doilies；　there　was　a　sudden　explosive　sound　as　the　wheel　jerked　in　his　hand　and　the　truck　began　to　vibrate。　Foutre！　he　thought。　A　fucking　blowout。
　
　**********
　
　The　giant　747　Air　France　cargo　plane　was　in　the　process　of　being　loaded。　The　nose　had　been　raised；　revealing　rows　of　tracks。　The　cargo　containers　were　on　a　platform　level　with　the　opening；　ready　to　slide　across　a　bridge　into　the　hold　of　the　plane。　There　were　thirty…eight　pallets；　twenty…eight　of　them　on　the　main　deck　and　ten　of　them　in　the　belly　holds。　On　the　ceiling　an　exposed　heating　pipe　ran　from　one　end　of　the　huge　cabin　to　the　other；　and　the　wires　and　cables　that　controlled　the　transport　were　visible　on　the　ceiling。　There　were　no　frills　on　this　plane。
　
　The　loading　had　almost　been　pleted。　Ramon　Vauban　looked　at　his　watch　again　and　cursed。　The　truck　was　late。　The　De　Beers　consignment　had　already　been　loaded　into　its　pallet；　and　the　canvas　sides　fastened　down　with　a　crisscross　of　ropes。　Vauban　had　daubed　the　side　of　it　with　red　paint　so　the　woman　would　have　no　trouble　identifying　it。　He　watched　now　as　the　pallet　moved　along　the　tracks　into　the　plane　and　was　locked　into　place。　There　was　room　next　to　it　for　one　more　pallet；　before　the　plane　took　off。　There　were　three　more　containers　on　the　dock　waiting　to　be　loaded。　Where　in　God's　name　was　the　woman？
　
　The　loadmaster　inside　the　plane　called；　〃Let's　go；　Ramon。　What's　holding　us　up？〃
　
　〃A　minute；〃　Vauban　answered。　He　hurried　toward　the　entrance　to　the　loading　area。　No　sign　of　the　truck。
　
　〃Vauban！　What's　the　problem？〃　He　turned。　A　senior　supervisor　was　approaching。　〃Finish　loading　and　get　this　cargo　in　the　air。〃
　
　〃Yes；　sir。　I　was　just　waiting　for…〃
　
　At　that　moment　the　truck　from　Brucère　et　Cie　raced　into　the　warehouse　and　came　to　a　screaming　halt　in　front　of　Vauban。
　
　〃Here's　the　last　of　the　cargo；〃　Vauban　announced。
　
　〃Well；　get　it　aboard；〃　the　supervisor　snapped。
　
　Vauban　supervised　the　unloading　of　the　container　from　the　truck　and　sent　it　onto　the　bridge　leading　to　the　plane。
　
　He　waved　to　the　loadmaster。　〃It's　all　yours。〃
　
　Moments　later　the　cargo　was　aboard；　and　the　nose　of　the　plane　was　lowered　into　place。　Vauban　watched　as　the　jets　were　fired　up　and　the　giant　plane　started　rolling　toward　the　runway；　and　he　thought；　Now　it's　up　to　the　woman。
　
　**********
　
　There　was　a　fierce　storm。　A　giant　wave　had　struck　the　ship　and　it　was　sinking。　I'm　drowning；　Tracy　thought。　I've　got　to　get　out　of　here。
　
　She　flung　out　her　arms　and　hit　something。　It　was　the　side　of　a　lifeboat；　rocking　and　swaying。　She　tried　to　stand　up　and　cracked　her　head　on　the　leg　of　a　table。　In　a　moment　of　clarity　she　remembered　where　she　was。　Her　face　and　hair　dripped　with　perspiration。　She　felt　giddy；　and　her　body　was　burning　up。　How　long　had　she　been　unconscious？　It　was　only　an　hour's　flight。　Was　the　plane　about　to　land？　No；　she　thought。　It's　all　right。　I'm　having　a　nightmare。　I'm　in　my　bed　in　London；　asleep。　I'll　call　for　a　doctor。　She　could　not　breathe。　She　struggled　upward　to　reach　for　a　telephone；　then　immediately　sank　down；　her　body　leaden。　The　plane　hit　a　pocket　of　turbulence；　and　Tracy　was　thrown　against　the　side　of　the　box。　She　lay　there；　dazed；　desperately　trying　to　concentrate。　How　much　time　do　I　have？　She　wavered　between　a　hellish　dream　and　painful　reality。　The　diamonds。　Somehow　she　had　to　get　the　diamonds。　But　first。。。　first；　she　had　to　cut　herself　out　of　the　pallet。
　
　She　touched　the　knife　in　her　coveralls　and　found　that　it　was　at　terrible　effort　to　lift　it。　Not　enough　air；　Tracy　thought。　l　must　have　air。　She　reached　around　the　edge　of　the　canvas；　fumbled　for　one　of　the　outside　ropes；　found　it；　and　cut　it。　It　seemed　to　take　an　eternity。　The　canvas　opened　wider。　She　cut　another　rope；　and　there　was　room　enough　to　slip　outside　of　the　container　into　the　belly　of　the　cargo　plane。　The　air　outside　the　box　was　cold。　She　was　freezing。　Her　whole　body　began　to　shake；　and　the　constant　jolting　of　the　plane　increased　her　nausea。　I've　got　to　hold　on；　Tracy　thought。　She　forced　herself　to　concentrate。　What　am　I　doing　here？　Something　important。。。　Yes。。。　Diamonds。
　
　Tracy's　vision　was　blurred；　and　everything　was　moving　in　and　out　of　focus。　I'm　not　going　to　make　it。
　
　The　plane　dipped　suddenly；　and　Tracy　was　hurled　to　the　floor；　scraping　her　hands　on　the　sharp　metal　tracks。　She　held　on　while　the　plane　bucked；　and　when　it　had　settled　down；　she　forced　herself　to　her　feet　again。　The　roaring　of　the　jet　engines　was　mixed　with　the　roaring　in　her　head。　The　diamonds。　I　must　find　the　diamonds。
　
　She　stumbled　among　the　containers；　squinting　at　each　one；　looking　for　the　red　paint。　Thank　God！　There　it　was；　on　the　third　container。　She　stood　there；　trying　to　remember　what　to　do　next。　It　was　such　an　effort　to　concentrate。　If　I　could　just　lie　down　and　sleep　for　a　few　minutes；　I'd　be　fine。　All　I　need　is　some　sleep。　But　there　was　no　time。　They　could　be　landing　in　Amsterdam　at　any　moment。　Tracy　took　the　knife　and　slashed　at　the　ropes　of　the　container。　〃One　good　cut　will　do　it；〃　they　had　told　her。
　
　She　barely　had　the　strength　to　hold　the　knife　in　her　grasp。　l　can't　fail　now；　Tracy　thought。　She　began　shivering　again；　and　shook　so　hard　that　she　dropped　the　knife。　It's　not　going　to　work。　They're　going　to　catch　me　and　put　me　back　in　prison。
　
　She　hesitated　indecisively；　clinging　to　the　rope；　wanting　desperately　to　crawl　back　into　her　box　where　she　could　sleep；　safely　hidden　until　it　was　all　over。　It　would　be　so　easy。　Then；　slowly；　moving　carefully　against　the　fierce　pounding　in　her　head；　Tracy　reached　for　the　knife　and　picked　it　up。　She　began　to　slash　at　the　heavy　rope。
　
　It　finally　gave　way。　Tracy　pulled　back　the　canvas　and　stared　into　the　gloomy　interior　of　the　container。　She　could　see　nothing。　She　pulled　out　the　flashlight　and；　at　that　moment；　she　felt　a　sudden　change　of　pressure　in　her　ears。
　
　The　plane　was　ing　down　for　a　landing。
　
　Tracy　thought；　I've　got　to　hurry。　But　her　body　refused　to　respond。　She　stood　there；　dazed。　Move；　her　mind　said。
　
　She　shone　the　flashlight　into　the　interior　of　the　box。　It　was　crammed　with　packages　and　envelopes　and　small　cases；　and　on　top　of　a　crate　were　two　little　blue　boxes　with　red　ribbons　around　them。　Two　of　them！　There　was　only　supposed　to　be…　She　blinked；　and　the　two　boxes　merged　into　one。　Everything　seemed　to　have　'a　bright　aura　around　it。
　
　She　reached　for　the　box　and　took　the　duplicate　out　of　her　pocket。　Holding　the　two　of　them　in　her　hand；　an　overwhelming　nausea　swept　over　her；　racking　her　body。　She　squeezed　her　eyes　together；　fighting　against　it。　She　started　to　place　the　substitute　box　on　top　of　the　case　and　suddenly　realized　that　she　was　no　longer　sure　which　box　was　which。　She　stared　at　the　two　identical　boxes。　Was　it　the　one　in　her　left　hand　or　her　right　hand？
　
　The　plane　began　a　steeper　angle　of　descent。　It　would　touch　down　at　any　moment。　She　had　to　make　a　decision。　She　set　down　one　of　the　boxes；　prayed　that　it　was　the　right　one；　and　moved　away　from　the　container。　She　fumbled　an　uncut　coil　of　rope　out　of　her　coveralls。　There's　something　I　must　do　with　the　rope。　The　roaring　in　her　head　made　it　impossible　to　think。　She　remembered：　After　you　cut　the　rope；　put　it　in　your　pocket；　replace　it　with　the　new　rope。　Don't　leave　anything　around　that　wilt　make　them　suspicious。
　
　It　had　sounded　so　easy　then；　sitting　in　the　warm　sun　on　the　deck　of　the　Bateau　Mouche。　Now　it　was　impossible。　She　had　no　more　strength　left。　The　guards　would　find　the　cut　rope　and　the　cargo　would　be　searched；　and　she　would　be　caught。　Something　deep　inside　her　screamed；　No！　No！　No！
　
　With　a　herculean　effort；　Tracy　began　to　wind　the　uncut　rope　around　the　container。　She　felt　a　jolt　beneath　her　feet　as　the　plane　touched　the　ground；　and　then　another；　and　she　was　slammed　backward　as　the　jets　were　thrust　into　reverse。　Her　head　smashed　against　the　floor　and　she　blacked　out。
　
　The　747　was　picking　up　speed　now；　taxiing　along　the　runway　toward　the　terminal。　Tracy　lay　crumpled　on　the　floor　of　the　plane　with　her　hair　fanning　over　her　white；　white　face。　It　was　the　silence　of　the　engines　that　brought　her　back　to　consciousness。　The　plane　had　stopped。　She　propped　herself　up　on　an　elbow　and　slowly　forced　herself　to　her　knees。　She　stood　up；　reeling；　hanging　on　to　the　container　to　keep