tc.patriotgames-第35章

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！


　around　them　were　stately　homes　belonging　to　the　horse　crowd；　and　the　less　stately　homes　of　those　whom　they　employed。　It　was　a　pity　it　was　dark。　Highland　thought；　this　could　be　a　very　pleasant　drive。　As　it　was；　the　fog　hung　in　the　numerous　valleys；　and　rain　pelted　the　flat　metal　top　of　the　van；　and　the　van's　driver　had　to　be　especially　careful　as　he　negotiated　the　narrow；　twisting　roads　that　characterize　the　English　countryside。　The　only　good　news　was　the　near…total　absence　of　traffic。　Here　and　there　Highland　saw　a　solitary　light　over　some　distant　door；　but　there　was　little　more　than　that。
　　　　An　hour　later；　the　van　used　the　M…27　motorway　to　bypass　Southampton；　then　turned　south　on　a　secondary　　〃Class　A〃　　road　for　Lymington。　Every　few　miles　they　passed　through　a　small　village。　There　were　the　beginnings　of　life　here　and　there。　A　few　bakeries　had　cars　parked　outside　while　their　owners　got　fresh；　hot　bread　for　the　day's　dinner。　Early　church　services　were　under　way　already；　but　the　real　traveling　wouldn't　start　until　the　sun　was　up；　and　that　was　still　over　two　hours　off。　The　weather　was　worsening。　They　were　only　a　few　miles　from　the　coast　now；　and　the　wind　was　gusting　at　thirty　miles　per　hour。　It　blew　away　the　fog；　but　also　drove　sheets　of　cold　rain　and　rocked　the　van　on　its　wheels。
　　　　〃Miserable　bloody　day　to　take　a　boat　ride；〃　the　other　cop　in　the　back　mented。
　　　　〃Only　supposed　to　be　thirty　minutes；〃　Highland　said；　his　own　stomach　already　queasy　at　the　thought。　Born　in　a　nation　of　seamen；　Bob　Highland　detested　traveling　on　the　water。
　　　　〃On　a　day　like　this？　An　hour；　more　like。〃　The　man　started　humming　〃A　Life　on　the　Rolling　Wave〃　while　Highland　started　regretting　the　large　breakfast　he'd　fixed　before　leaving　home。
　　　　Nothing　for　it；　he　told　himself。　After　we　deliver　young　Mr。　Miller；　it's　home　for　Christmas　and　two　days　off。　I've　bloody　earned　it。　Thirty　minutes　later　they　arrived　in　Lymington。
　　　　Highland　had　been　there　once　before；　but　he　remembered　more　than　he　could　see。　The　wind　off　the　water　was　now　a　good　forty　miles　per　hour；　a　full　gale　out　of　the　southwest。　He　remembered　from　the　map　that　most　of　the　boat　ride　to　the　Isle　of　Wight　was　in　sheltered　waters　　a　relative　term；　but　something　to　depend　on　nonetheless。　The　ferry　Cenlac　waited　at　the　dock　for　them。　Only　half　an　hour　before；　the　boat's　captain　had　been　told　that　a　special　passenger　was　en　route。　That　explained　the　four　armed　officers　who　stood　or　sat　in　various　places　around　the　ferry。　A　low…profile　operation；　to　be　sure；　and　it　didn't　interfere　with　the　ferry's　other　passengers；　many　of　them　carrying　bundles　whose　identity　didn't　need　to　be　guessed　at。
　　　　The　Lymington　to　Yarmouth　ferry　cast　off　her　lines　at　8：30　exactly。　Highland　and　the　other　officer　remained　in　the　van　while　the　driver　and　another　armed　constable　who'd　ridden　in　front　stood　outside。　Another　hour；　he　told　himself；　then　a　few　more　minutes　to　deliver　Miller　to　the　prison；　and　then　a　leisurely　drive　back　to　London。　I　might　even　stretch　out　and　get　a　few　winks。　Christmas　Dinner　was　scheduled　for　four　in　the　afternoon　　his　contemplation　of　that　event　stopped　abruptly。
　　　　The　Cenlac　entered　the　Solent；　the　channel　between　the　English　mainland　and　the　Isle　of　Wight。　If　these　waters　were　sheltered；　Highland　didn't　want　to　think　what　the　open　ocean　was　like。　The　Cenlac　wasn't　all　that　large；　and　the　ferry　lacked　the　weatherly　lines　of　a　blue…water　craft。　The　channel　gale　was　broad　on　her　starboard　beam；　as　were　the　seas；　and　the　boat　was　already　taking　fifteen…degree　rolls。
　　　　〃Bloody　hell；〃　the　Sergeant　observed　to　himself。　He　looked　at　Miller。　The　terrorist's　demeanor　hadn't　changed　a　whit。　He　sat　there　like　a　statue；　head　still　against　the　van's　wall；　eyes　still　closed；　hands　in　his　lap。　Highland　decided　to　try　the　same　thing。　There　was　nothing　to　be　gained　by　staring　out　the　back　window。　There　wasn't　any　traffic　to　worry　about　now。　He　sat　back　and　propped　his　feet　on　the　left…side　bench。　Somewhere　he'd　once　read　that　closing　one's　eyes　was　an　effective　defense　against　motion　sickness。　He　had　nothing　to　fear　from　Miller。　Highland　was　not　carrying　a　gun；　of　course；　and　the　keys　to　the　prisoner's　manacles　were　in　the　driver's　pocket。　So　he　did　close　his　eyes；　and　let　his　inner　ear　e　to　terms　with　the　rolling　motion　of　the　ferry　without　the　confusion　that　would　e　from　staring　at　the　unmoving　interior　of　the　truck。　It　helped　a　little。　His　stomach　soon　started　to　inform　him　of　its　dissatisfaction　with　the　current　scheme　of　things；　but　it　didn't　get　too　bad。　Highland　hoped　that　the　rougher　seas　farther　out　wouldn't　change　this。　They　wouldn't。
　　　　The　sound　of　automatic　weapons　fire　jerked　his　head　up　a　moment　later。　The　screams　came　next；　from　women　and　children；　followed　by　the　rough　shouts　of　men。　Somewhere　an　automobile　horn　started　blaring　and　didn't　stop。　More　guns　started。　Highland　recognized　the　short　bark　of　some　detective's　service　automatic　　answered　at　once　by　the　staccato　of　a　submachine　gun。　It　couldn't　have　lasted　more　than　a　minute。　The　Cenlac's　own　horn　started　blowing　short；　loud　notes；　then　stopped　after　a　few　seconds　while　the　auto's　horn　kept　going。　The　screams　diminished。　No　longer　shrill　cries　of　alarm；　they　were　now　the　deeper　cries　of　prehended　terror。　A　few　more　bursts　of　machine…gun　fire　crashed　out；　then　stopped。　Highland　feared　the　silence　more　than　the　noise。　He　looked　out　the　window　and　saw　nothing　but　a　car　and　the　dark　sea　beyond。　There　would　be　more；　and　he　knew　what　it　would　be。　Uselessly　his　hand　went　inside　his　jacket　for　the　pistol　that　wasn't　there。
　　　　How　did　they　know　　how　did　the　bastards　know　we'd　be　here！
　　　　Now　came　more　shouts；　the　sound　of　orders　that　would　not　be　disobeyed　by　anyone　who　wanted　to　live　through　this　Christmas　Day。　Highland's　hands　balled　into　fists。　He　turned　to　look　again　at　Miller。　The　terrorist　was　staring　at　him　now。　The　Sergeant　would　have　preferred　a　cruel　smile　to　the　empty　expression　he　saw　on　that　young；　pitiless　face。
　　　　The　metal　door　shook　to　the　impact　of　an　open　hand。　
　　　　〃Open　the　bloody　door　or　we'll　blow　it　off！〃　
　　　　〃What　do　we　do？〃　the　other　cop　asked。　
　　　　〃We　open　the　door。〃　
　　　　〃But　〃
　　　　〃But　what？　Wait　for　them　to　hold　a　gun　at　some　baby's　head？　They've　won。〃　Highland　twisted　the　handles。　Both　doors　were　yanked　open。
　　　　There　were　three　men　there；　ski　masks　pulled　down　over　their　faces。　They　held　automatic　weapons。
　　　　〃Let's　see　your　guns；〃　the　tall　one　said。　Highland　noted　the　Irish　accent；　not　that　he　was　very　surprised　by　it。
　　　　〃We　are　both　unarmed；〃　the　Sergeant　answered。　He　held　both　hands　up。
　　　　〃Out。　One　at　a　time；　and　flat　on　the　deck。〃　The　voice　didn't　bother　to　make　any　threats。
　　　　Highland　stepped　out　of　the　truck　and　got　to　his　knees；　then　was　kicked　down　on　his　face。　He　felt　the　other　cop　e　down　beside　him。
　　　　〃Hello；　Sean；〃　another　voice　said。　〃You　didn't　think　we'd　forget　you；　did　you　now？〃
　　　　Still　Miller　didn't　say　anything。　Highland　thought　in　wonderment。　He　listened　to　the　flat　jingle　of　his　chains　as　he　hobbled　out　of　the　van。　He　saw　the　shoes　of　a　man　step　to　the　doors；　probably　to　help　him　down。
　　　　The　driver　must　be　dead。　Highland　thought。　The　gunmen　had　his　keys。　He　heard　the　manacles　e　off；　then　a　pair　of　hands　lifted　Miller　to　his　feet。　Miller　was　rubbing　his　wrists；　finally　showing　a　little　emotion。　He　smiled　at　the　deck　before　looking　up　at　the　Sergeant。
　　　　There　wasn't　much　point　in　looking　at　the　terrorist。　Around　them　he　saw　at　least　three　men　dead。　One　of　the　black…clad　gunmen　pulled　a　shattered　head　off　a　car's　wheel；　and　the　horn　finally　stopped。　Twenty　feet　away　a　man　was　grasping　at　a　bloody　stomach　and　moaning；　a　woman　　probably　his　wife　　trying　to　minister　to　him。　Others　lay　about　on　the　deck　in　small　knots；　each　watched　by　an　armed　terrorist　as　their　hands　sweated　on　the　backs　of　their　necks。　There　was　no　unnecessary　noise　from　the　gunmen；　Highland　noted。　They　were　trained　men。　All　the　noise　came　from　the　civilians。　Children　were　crying；　and　their　parents　were　faring　better　than　the　childless　adults。　Parents　had　to　be　brave　to　protect　their　kids；　while　the　single　had　only　their　own　lives　to　fear　for。　Several　of　these　were　whimpering。
　　　　〃You　are　Robert　Highland；〃　the　tall　one　said　quietly。　〃Sergeant　Highland　of　the　famous　C…13？〃
　　　　〃That's　right；〃　the　policeman　answered。　He　knew　that　he　was　going　to　die。　It　seemed　a　terrible　thing　to　die　on　Christmas　Day。　But　if　he　was　going　to　die；　there　was　nothing　left　to　lose。　He　wouldn't　plead；　he　wouldn't　beg。　〃And　who　might　you　be？〃　
　　　　〃Sean's　friends；　of　course。　Did　you　really　think　that　we'd　abandon　him　to　your　kind？〃　The　voice　sounded　educated　despite　the　simple　diction。　〃Do　you　have　anything　to　say？〃　
　　　　Highland　wanted　to　say　something；　but　he　knew　that　nothing　would　really　matter。　He　wouldn't　even　entertain　them　with　a　curse　　and　it　came　to　him　that　he　understood　Miller　a　little　better　now。　The　realization　shocked　him　out　of　his　fear。　Now　he　knew　why　Miller　hadn't　spoken。　What　damned　fool　things　go　through　your　head　at　a　time　like　this；　he　thought。　It　was　almost　funny；　but　more　than　that　it　was　disgusting。　
　　　　〃Get　on　with　it　and　be　on　your　way。〃
　　　　He　could　only　see　the　tall　one's　eyes；　and　was　robbed　of　the　satisfaction　he　might　have　had　from　seeing　the　man's　reactions。　Highland　became　angry　at　that。　Now　that　death　was　certain；　he　found　himself　enraged　by　the　irrelevant。　The　tall　one　took　an　automatic　pistol　from　his　belt　and　handed　it　to　Miller。　
　　　　〃This　one's　yours；　Sean。〃
　　　　Sean　took　the　gun　in　his　left　hand　and　looked　one　last　time　at　Highland。
　　　　I　might　as　well　be　a　rabbit　for　all　that　little　fucker　cares。
　　　　〃I　should　have　left　you　in　that　cell；〃　Highland　said；　his　own　voice　now　devoid　of　emotion。
　　　　Miller　considered　that　for　a　moment；　waiting　for　a　fitting　reply　to　spring　from　his　brain　as　he　held　the　gun　at　his　hip。　A　quote　from　Josef　Stalin　came　to　mind。　He　raised　his　gun。　〃Gratitude；　Mr。　Highland　。　。　。　is　a　disease　of　dogs。〃　He　fired　two　rounds　from　a　distance　of　fifteen　feet。
　　　　〃e　on；〃　O'Donnell　said　from　behind　his　mask。　Another　black…clad　man　appeared　on　the　vehicle　deck。　He　trotted　to　the　leader。
　　　　〃Both　engines　are　disabled。〃
　　　　O'Donnell　checked　his　watch。　Things　had　gone　almost　perfectly。　A　good　plan；　it　was　　except　for　the　bloody　weather。　Visibility　was　under　a　mile；　and　　
　　　　〃There　it　is；　ing　up　aft；〃　one　man　called。　
　　　　〃Patience；　lads。〃　
　　　　〃Just　who　the　hell　are　you？〃　the　cop　at　their　feet　asked。
　　　　O'Donnell　fired　a　short　burst　for　an　answer；　correcting　this　oversight。　Another　chorus　of　screams　erupted；　then　trailed　quickly　away　into　the　shriek　of　the　winds。　The　leader　took　a　whistle　from　inside　his　sweater　and　blew　it。　The　assault　group　formed　up　on　the　leader。　There　were　seven　of　them；　plus　Sean。　Their　training　showed；　O'Donnell　noted　with　satisfaction。　Every　man　of　them　stood　facing　outward　around　him；　gun　at　the　ready　in　case　one　of　these　terrified　civilians　might　be　so　foolish　as　to　try　something。　The　ferry's　captain　stood　on　the　ladder　sixty　feet　away；　clearly　worrying　about　his　next　hazard；　handling　his　craft　in　a　storm　without　engine　power。　O'Donnell　had　considered　killing　all　aboard　and　sinking　the　boat；　but　rejected　the　idea　as