cc.iceberg-第38章

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d　a　throbbing　sound　to　a　numbed　brain　that　refused　to　relay　any　explanation　as　to　the　cause　or　the　distance　from　which　the　strange　coughing　beat　came。
　
　Then　suddenly　there　was　silence。　The　sound　had　died　away；　leaving　only　the　vision　of　green　blades　wavering　slightly　in　a　whispering　breeze。　Something　in　the　desolation　over　which　he　had　stumbled　was　out　of　context。
　
　The　superhuman；　courageous　effort　had　been　wasted；　the　responsibility　to　the　people　back　in　the　freezing　ravine　now　evaporated　into　the　empty　atmosphere。　Pitt　was　past　caring　or　knowing　or　sensing　now；　he　could　relinquish　his　hold　on　life　and　peacefully　die　under　the　cold　Norse　sun。　It　would　have　been　so　easy　to　let　go　and　fall　into　the　black　pit　of　no　return　except　for　something　that　didn't　belong　in　the　picture；　an　illusion　that　shattered　the　whole　conception　of　death。
　
　A　pair　of　boots；　two　worn　leather　boots；　standing　in　front　of　Pitts　unseeing　eyes　where　only　a　moment　before　was　an　empty　plot　of　wild　grass。　And　then　phantom　hands　rolled　him　over　on　his　back　and　he　became　aware　of　a　face　framed　by　the　vacant　sky…a　stern　face　with　sea…blue　eyes。　Gray　hair　flowed　around　a　broad　forehead　like　the　helmet　on　a　warrior　in　a　Flemish　painting。　An　old　man；　aged　somewhere　beyond　seventy　years；　wearing　a　worn　turtleneck　sweater；　bent　and　touched　Pitts　face。
　
　Then　without　saying　a　word；　with　surprising　strength　for　a　man　of　his　years；　he　lifted　Pitt　up　and　carried　him　over　the　rise。　Through　the　cobwebs　of　his　mind；　Pitt　began　to　wonder　at　the　sheer　coincidence；　the　miracle；　which　indeed　it　was；　that　led　to　his　discovery。
　
　No　more　than　one　easy　stride　over　the　small　summit　lay　a　road；　he　had　fallen　within　spitting　distance　of　a　small　dirt　road　that　paralleled　a　tumbling　glacial　river　of　white　froth；　rushing　swiftly　through　a　narrow　gorge　of　black　lava　rock。　Yet　the　sound　Pitts　ears　had　detected　came　not　from　the　roar　of　the　falling　water；　but　from　the　exhaust　of　an　engine　belonging　to　a　battered；　dustcovered　British…made　jeep。
　
　Like　a　child　placing　a　doll　in　a　highchair；　the　old　Icelander　set　Pitt　in　the　front　passenger　seat　of　the　jeep。
　
　Then　he　climbed　behind　the　wheel　and　steered　the　rugged　little　vehicle　over　the　winding　road；　stopping　every　so　often　to　open　a　closed　cattle　gate；　an　operation　that　became　routine　as　they　entered　a　section　of　rolling　hills　divided　by　lush　green　meadows　bursting　with　plovers　that　clouded　the　sky　at　the　approach　of　the　jeep。　They　stopped　in　front　of　a　small　farmhouse　with　white　sideboards　and　a　red　roof。　Pitt　shrugged　off　the　supporting　hands　and　staggered　into　the　living　room　of　the　fortable　little　house。　〃A　telephone；　quickly。　I　need　a　telephone。
　
　The　blue　eyes　narrowed。　〃You　are　English？〃　the　Icelander　asked　slowly　in　a　heavy　Nordic　accent。
　〃American；〃　Pitt　answered　impatiently。　〃There　are　two　dozen　seriously　injured　people　out　there　who　will　die　if　we　don't　get　help　to　them　soon。〃
　〃There　are　others　on　the　plateau？〃　there　was　no　concealing　the　astonishment。
　〃Yes；　yes！〃　Pitt　nodded　his　head　violently。　God；　man；　the　phone。　Where　do　you　keep　it？〃
　
　The　Icelander　shrugged　helplessly。　〃The　nearest　telephone　lines　are　forty　kilometers　away。〃
　
　A　great　tidal　wave　of　despair　swept　over　Pitt　only　to　ebb　and　vanish　at　the　stranger's　next　words。
　〃However；　I　have　a　radio　transmitter。〃　He　motioned　to　a　side　room。　〃Please；　this　way。〃
　
　Pitt　followed　him　into　a　small；　well…lit；　but　Spartan　room；　the　three　primary　pieces　of　furniture　being　a　chair；　a　cabinet　and　an　ancient　hand…carved　table　holding　a　gleaming　transmitter；　not　more　than　a　few　months　from　manufacture；　Pitt　could　only　marvel　at　the　latest　equipment　being　used　in　an　isolated　farmhouse。　The　Icelander　crossed　hurriedly　to　the　transmitter；　sat　down　and　began　twisting　the　array　of　dials　and　knobs。　He　switched　the　radio　to　SEND；　selected　the　frequency　and　picked　up　the　microphone。
　
　He　spoke　a　few　words　rapidly　in　Icelandic　and　waited。　Nothing　came　back　over　the　speaker。　He　shifted　the　transmitting　frequency　fractionally　and　spoke　again。
　
　This　time　a　voice　answered　almost　immediately。　The　pressure　of　the　race　against　death　made　Pitt　as　tense　as　a　guy　wire　in　a　hurricane　gale；　and　in　total　indifference　to　his　pain　and　fatigue　he　paced　the　floor　while　his　benefactor　conversed　with　the　…Reykjavik　authorities。　After　ten　minutes　of　explanation　and　translation；　Pitt　requested　and　received　a　call　from　the　American　Embassy。
　〃Where　in　the　goddamned　hell　have　you　been？〃
　
　Sandecker's　voice　exploded　over　the　speaker　so　loudly　that　it　might　have　e　from　the　doorway。
　〃Waiting　for　a　streetcar；　walking　in　the　park；〃　Pitt　snapped　back。
　〃It　makes　no　difference。　How　soon　before　a　team　of　medics　can　be　assembled　and　in　the　air？〃
　
　There　was　a　tense　silence　before　the　admiral　answered。　There　was；　he　knew；　a　tone　of　urgent　insistence　in　Pitts　voice；　a　tone　Sandecker　had　seldom　heard　from　Pitts　lips。　〃I　can　have　a　team　of　Air　Force　paramedics　ready　to　load　in　thirty　minutes；〃　he　said　slowly。　〃Would　you　mind　telling　me　the　reason　behind　your　request　for　a　medical　unit？〃
　
　Pitt　didn't　answer　immediately。　His　thoughts　were　barely　able　to　focus。　He　nodded　thankfully　as　the　Icelander　offered　him　the　chair。
　〃Every　minute　we　waste　with　explanations；　someone　may　die。　For　God's　sake；　Admiral；〃　Pitt　implored；　〃contact　the　Air　Force　and　get　their　paramedics　loaded　on　helicopters　and　supplied　to　aid　victims　of　an　air　disaster。　Then　while　there's　time；　I　can　fill　you　in　on　the　details。〃
　〃Understood；〃　Sandecker　said　without　wasting　a　word。　〃Stand　by。〃
　
　Pitt　nodded　again；　this　time　to　himself；　and　slumped　dejectedly　in　the　chair。　It　won't　be　long　now；　he　thought；　if　only　they're　in　time。　He　felt　a　hand　on　his　shoulder；　half　turned　and　managed　a　crooked　smile　up　at　the　warm…eyed　Icelander。
　〃I've　been　a　rude　guest；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃I　haven't　introduced　myself　or　thanked　you　for　saving　my　life。〃
　
　The　old　man　offered　a　long；　weathered　hand。
　〃Golfur　Andursson；〃　he　said。　〃I　am　chief　guide　for　the　Rarfur　River。〃
　
　Pitt　grit）ped　Andursson's　hand　and　introduced　himself　and　then　asked；　〃A　chief　guide？〃
　〃Yes；　a　guide　is　also　the　river　warden。　We　act　as　guides　for　fishermen　and　watch　over　the　ecology　of　the　river；　much　like　a　conservationist　in　your　own　country　who　protects　the　natural　resoarces　of　your　inland　water　grounds。〃
　〃It　must　be　lonely　work…〃　Pitts　mouth　stopped　working　and　he　gasped　as　a　sharp　pain　in　his　chest　nearly　carried　him　into　blackness。　He　clutched　the　table；　fighting　to　remain　conscious。
　〃e；〃　Andursson　said。　〃You　must　let　me　tend　to　your　injuries。〃
　〃No；〃　Pitt　answered　firmly。　〃I　must　stay　by　the　radio。　I'm　not　leaving　this　chair。〃
　
　Andursson　hesitated。　Then　he　shook　his　head　and　said　nothing。　He　disappeared　from　the　room　and　returned　in　less　than　two　minutes　carrying　a　large　first…aid　case　and　a　bottle。
　
　You　are　lucky；〃　he　said　smiling。　〃One　of　your　countrymen　fished　the　river　just　last　month　and　left　this　with　me。〃　He　held　up　and　proudly　displayed　a　fifth　of　Seagram's　V。O。　Canadian　Whiskey。　Pitt　noticed　that　the　seal　on　the　cap　had　not　been　broken。
　
　Pitt　was　on　his　fourth　healthy　swig　and　the　old　river　warden　had　just　finished　binding　his　chest　when　the　radio　crackled　and　Sandecker's　gravel　voice　broke　into　the　room　again。
　〃Major　Pitt；　do　you　read　me？〃
　
　Pitt　lifted　the　microphone　and　pressed　the　transmitting　switch。　〃Pitt　here。　I　read　you；　Admiral。〃
　〃The　paramedics　are　mustering　at　Keflavik　and　Iceland's　civilian　search　and　rescue　units　are　standing　by。　I'll　maintain　radio　contact　and　coordinate　their　efforts。〃　There　was　a　momentary　silence。　〃You　have　a　lot　of　worried　people　here。　Keflavik　has　no　report　Of　a　missing　plane；　either　military　or　mercial。〃
　
　Rondheim　wasn't　taking　any　chances；　Pitt　thought。
　
　The　bastard。　was　taking　his　own　sweet　time　about　reporting　his　overdue　and　missing　guests。　Pitt　breathed　deeply　and　took　another　shot　of　the　V。O。　Then　he　replied：　〃Notification　isn't　scheduled　yet。〃
　
　Total　unprehension　broke　in　Sandecker's　voice。
　〃e　again。　Please　repeat。〃
　〃Trust　me；　Admiral。　I　can't　even　begin　to　answer　a　tenth　of　the　questions　that　must　be　running　through　everyone's　mind；　especially　over　the　radio　repeatespecially　over　the　radio。〃
　
　Somehow；　Pitt　thought；　the　names　of　the　internationally　known　men　back　in　the　ravine　had　to　be　kept　from　the　news　services　for　at　least　the　next　thirty…six　hours　time　enough　to　stop　Kelly；　Rondheim　and　Hermit　Limited　before　they　could　be　warned　and　go　underground。　He　had　to　give　the　admiral　credit。　Sandecker　caught　Pitts　implication　of　the　need　for　secrecy　almost　immediately。　〃Your　message　is　understood。　Can　you　give　me　the　location？　Use　your　reverse　coordination　map。〃
　〃Sorry；　I　know　of　no　such…〃
　〃Dammit！〃　Sandecker　shouted；　turning　the　speaker　into　a　thunderbolt　of　distorted　static。　〃Do　as　you're　ordered。〃
　
　Pitt　sat　and　stared　dumbly　at　the　radio's　speaker　for　nearly　thirty　seconds　before　Sandecker's　hidden　meaning　began　to　register　in　his　weary　mind。　The　admiral　was　offering　him　a　chance　to　answer　questions　withOut　giving　away　valid　information；　by　replying　in　the　contrary。　He　mentally　kicked　himself　for　letting　Sandecker　outdo　him　in　the　verbal　gymnastics。
　
　Pitt　flicked　off　the　mike　switch　and　turned　to　Andursson。　〃How　far　is　the　nearest　town　and　in　what　direction？〃
　
　Andursson　vaguely　pointed　out　the　window。　〃Sodafoss　。　。　。　we　are　exactly　fifty　kilometers　south　of　its　town　square。〃
　
　Pitt　quickly　added　to　the　Icelander's　figure　to　allow　for　the　distance　he　had　stumbled　across　the　plateau　。
　〃back　to　the　radio。　The　aircraft　came　down　approximately　eighty　kilometers　north　of　Sodafoss。　I　repeat；　eighty　kilometers　north　of　Sodafoss。〃
　〃Was　the　aircraft　civilian　or　military？〃
　〃Military。〃
　〃How　many　survivors？〃
　〃Can't　say　for　certain。　Two；　maybe　four。〃
　
　Pitt　could　only　hope　the　admiral　would　grasp　the　total　number　of　twenty…four。　The　feisty　old　oceanographer　didn't　fail　him。
　〃Let　…us　hope　we　can　have　them　safe　and　sound　by　this　time　tomorrow。〃　Sandecker's　intimation　of　twenty…four　hours　quickly　settled　any　doubt。　He　paused；　and　then　his　voice　came　through；　low；　quiet　with　a　strong　inflection　of　concern。　〃Is　miss　Royal　with　you？〃
　〃Yes。
　
　Sandecker　didn't　reply　immediately。　Pitt　could　almost　see　the　sudden　paling；　almost　hear　the　sudden　intake　of　breath。　Then　the　admiral　said；　〃Has　she　。　。　。　has　she　given　you　any　trouble？〃
　
　Pitt　thought　a　moment。　trying　to　piece　together　the　right　words。　〃You　know　how　women　are；　Admiral；　always　plaining。　First　it　was　an　imaginary　ache　in　her　ankles；　now　she　claims　she's　freezing　to　death。　I'll　be　eternally　grateful　if　you　use　all　haste　in　taking　this　griping　female　off　my　hands。〃
　〃Will　do　all　possible　at　this　end　to　grant　your　request。〃　The　gravel…like　tone　was　back　now。　〃Stand　by。〃
　
　Pitt　hummed　softly　to　himself。　This　was　taking　too　much　time；　each　minute　was　precious；　each　second　irreplaceable。　He　looked　at　his　watch。　Exactly　one　o'clock…seven　hours　since　he　crawled　out　of　the　ravine。　He　felt　a　sudden　chill　and　took　another　swallow　from　the　bottle。
　
　The　radio　crackled　again。　〃Major　Pit