The Invisibility Affair - Stratton Thomas - Страница 37
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"At the count of three," Napoleon broke in ominously. "One..."
At the count of three, Hunter, followed closely by Sanders, Rudolph, and the unidentified Thrush jumped.
"That seems to dispose of possible saboteurs," Illya said. "Now we can get down to business."
McNulty came hesitantly toward Napoleon. "Don't you think I'm in enough trouble without your telling Hunter I'm one of your agents?" he asked accusingly.
"No, I don't," Napoleon replied firmly. "The more trouble you're in, the less likely you are to think you can double-cross us and get away with it."
Pulling the returned communicator from his pocket, Napoleon called Ishmael. "This is Solo," he said when the man's voice answered. "Have you located the other prisoners yet?"
Sotavento sounded unhappy. "No Se?or. They are on the third floor of the headquarters building, but I have not been able to find out which cell."
"Never mind." Napoleon turned to McNulty. "Which cell did you put Kerry and Dr. Morthley in?"
"The corner cell at the far end of the corridor."
"Which side of the corridor?"
"Toward the back of the building."
Napoleon relayed this information to Sotavento, who sounded even more unhappy than before. "Se?or Solo, I do not think that I can rescue the prisoners from that location. Se?or Forbes has discovered your escape and put guard all around the building, with a man at each end of the upper corridor. Undoubtedly a man of your skill could affect a rescue, but for a poor interpreter..."
"That's all right," Napoleon said. "Try to find out if the prisoners are likely to be moved in the near future, then meet us at the clearing by the river a mile east of the base in half an hour." He turned to Illya. "We're getting close enough so that we could be spotted by the helicopter on one of its flights. Better switch on the OTSMID."
Illya did so, and the bright moonlight around them was replaced by utter blackness. Illya came back and looked at the circular screen on the sonar. "Doesn't tell you much, does it?" he observed after a few seconds.
"Just watch the bottom blip," McNulty offered. "If it gets within ninety degrees of the upper one, you're too close to something, probably the ground. To find out where you are, of course, you have to shut the OTSMID off for a moment."
"Over this jungle, at night, I don't think 'moment' is quite the word," Napoleon said. "Just for the record does anyone know where we are now?"
"We have to be somewhere west of Thrush headquarters," Illya said. "Probably southwest, since Cerro Bueno lies a bit to the south. If we head north, we should cross that little river that flows past the Thrush base, and we could follow that."
"Good," Napoleon said. "The only remaining problem is to find out which way north is."
McNulty pointed to a compass mounted near the helm. "Turn the OTSMID off long enough for this to operate and we can get a heading. It's a little unhandy, but we didn't have time to get an inertial guidance system to install."
Illya followed McNulty's instructions and minutes later they were heading approximately north. They moved steadily, occasionally switching off the OTSMID so they could check the ground below and the compass. Eventually, Illya spotted the gleam of moonlight on water, and they turned toward the rising mountains in the east.
Now they had to switch the invisibility field off more frequently to avoid losing the slender thread of the stream, and with each brief foray into visibility, they nervously listened for the helicopter. Everyone, except McNulty, breathed a sigh of relief when a cluster of lights was spotted ahead.
"Thrush base in sight," Illya announce, hastily snapping on the OTSMID. "It's still at least a mile ahead; we'd better stay invisible until we pass it."
They moved silently along, with Illya checking one of his watches at intervals. Finally he rose, switched off the OTSMID, and hurried to a side window near the rear of the gondola. After a moment, he moved to the other side and exclaimed in satisfaction.
"We're fine," he announced, "but you'd better swing north about fifteen degrees or we'll miss the clearing. Incidentally," he added, "how are we going to pick up Sotavento?"
"Can't we just hover and lower the cable like Thrush did on Lake Michigan?" Napoleon asked.
"Not exactly. The dirigible was moored then, and it had more ballast. We lost a lot of weight when the paratroopers jumped. Now we're being held down by the elevators. The minute we stop moving forward, we start rising."
"Well, then we drift across the clearing as slowly as we can, dragging the cable, and Ishmael grabs it as it comes past."
Illya considered. "We can do that, I think, but I'd hate to snag that hook in a tree."
"You needn't worry," McNulty assured him. "The winch is very sturdy, and even at low speed the dirigible has enough inertia to tear a fair-sized tree out by the roots. Don't forget, it weighs fifty tons."
"We can do it, then," Illya decided.
Napoleon contacted Ishmael again and advised him of the plan. The local agent sounded dubious but reluctantly agreed to at least try.
A few minutes later, the dirigible coasted slowly over the clearing. The hook at the end of the cable splashed down in the middle of the stream, dragged across the bank, and headed for the first line of trees, less than two hundred feet away. Ishmael Gallinas y Sotavento valiantly dashed after it and overtook it about fifty feet short of the trees. He attached himself to it, leechlike, and closed his eyes. Illya engaged the winch and hauled him aboard.
Ishmael was still trembling and picking small leaves and branches from his clothing when he stepped into the control gondola ahead of Illya. He managed to smile weakly at Napoleon. "It is good to see you once again, se?or."
Napoleon returned the smile. "Glad to have you aboard, Mr. Sotavento. I believe you and Mr. McNulty have met?"
The local agent stared. "But he—"
"Is at present working with us to avoid the wrath of Thrush. However, keep in mind that he is rather inventive and untrustworthy, so under no circumstances allow him near a weapon."
Sotavento nodded, and the four men settled down to a discussion of the possibilities of rescuing Kerry and Dr. Morthley. The dirigible, its rudder locked in place, drifted in large, lazy, invisible circles.
* * *
Illya stood on the hook at the end of the winch cable, one of the retuned Thrush communicators and one of the normal ones tied around his neck. Three ropes were attached to the cable fifty feet above him in such a way that a solid pull on the ends that were looped about his chest would slide them down the cable until they were stopped by the hook. A hundred and fifty yards above him, Ishmael was cautiously operating the winch.
"Very slowly now," Illya spoke into the retuned communicator. "The hook is just starting to disappear. Just another couple of feet and I can duck down enough to see out."
As Ishmael lowered him further, the hook disappeared entirely into the floor of blackness beneath him, then his feet and legs up to his waist. "Stop!" he said, and the winch halted with only inches remaining between the edge of the field and the communicators hanging around his neck.
Illya squatted down on the hook, and the tops of the trees suddenly appeared, moving by at a leisurely pace less than a hundred yards below. Looking forward, he could just make out the lights of the Thrush base a good half mile ahead. He watched for several seconds, then stood up with his head inside the field.
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