cyclops-第80节

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m　here！〃
　　　　The　Soviet　driver　pushed　open　his　door；　leaped　from　behind　the　wheel；　and　shoved　the　guard　aside。　He　was　built　like　a　bowling　pin；　huge；　beefy　body　and　small　head。　His　rank　indicated　that　he　was　a　sergeant。　He　stared　at　Figueroa　through　eyes　burning　with　malice。
　　　　〃Idiot；〃　he　snarled。　〃Move　this　wreck。〃
　　　　Figueroa　shook　his　fist　in　the　Russian's　face。　〃I'll　go　when　my　countryman　tells　me　to。〃
　　　　〃Please；　please；〃　Jessie　pleaded；　shaking　Figueroa's　shoulder　〃We　don't　want　any　trouble。〃
　　　　〃Discretion　isn't　a　Cuban　virtue；〃　Pitt　murmured。　He　cradled　the　assault　rifle　in　his　arms　with　the　muzzle　pointed　at　the　Russian　and　eased　the　door　open。
　　　　Jessie　turned　and　peered　cautiously　through　the　rear　window　at　the　limousine；　just　in　time　to　see　a　Soviet　officer；　followed　by　two　armed　bodyguards；　climb　from　the　backseat　and　gaze　with　an　amused　smile　at　the　shouting　match　taking　place　beside　the　taxicab。　Jessie's　mouth　dropped　open　and　she　gasped。
　　　　General　Velikov；　looking　tired　and　haggard；　and　wearing　a　badly　fitted　borrowed　uniform；　approached　from　the　rear　of　the　Chevrolet　as　Pitt　slid　out　of　his　seat　and　stepped　around　the　front　end　before　Jessie　could　warn　him。
　　　　Velikov's　attention　was　focused　on　his　driver　and　Figueroa；　and　he　paid　scant　notice　to　what　appeared　to　be　another　Cuban　soldier　emerging　from　the　other　side　of　the　car。　The　argument　was　heating　up　as　he　came　alongside。
　　　　〃What　is　the　problem？〃　he　asked　in　fluent　Spanish。
　　　　His　answer　did　not　e　from　his　driver；　but　from　a　totally　unexpected　source。
　　　　〃Nothing　we　can't　settle　like　gentlemen；〃　Pitt　said　acidly　in　English。
　　　　Velikov　stared　at　Pitt　for　a　long　moment；　the　amused　smile　dying　on　his　lips；　his　face　as　expressionless　as　ever。　The　only　sign　of　astonished　recognition　was　a　sudden　hardness　of　the　flat　cold　eyes。
　　　　〃We　are　survivors；　are　we　not；　Mr。　Pitt？〃　he　replied。
　　　　〃Lucky。　I'd　say　we　were　lucky；〃　Pitt　answered　in　a　steady　voice。
　　　　〃I　congratulate　you　on　your　escape　from　the　island。　How　did　you　manage　it？〃
　　　　〃A　makeshift　boat。　And　you？〃
　　　　〃A　helicopter　concealed　near　the　installation。　Fortunately；　your　friends　failed　to　discover　it。〃
　　　　〃An　oversight。〃
　　　　Velikov　glanced　out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye；　noting　with　irritation　the　relaxed　stance　of　his　bodyguards。　〃Why　have　you　e　to　Cuba？〃
　　　　Pitt's　hand　tightened　around　the　rifle's　grip；　muzzle　pointing　in　the　sky　just　above　Velikov's　head；　finger　poised　on　the　trigger。　〃Why　bother　to　ask　when　you've　established　the　fact　I'm　a　habitual　liar？〃
　　　　〃I　also　know　you　only　lie　if　there　is　a　purpose。　You　didn't　e　to　Cuba　to　drink　rum　and　lie　in　the　sun。〃
　　　　〃What　now；　General？〃
　　　　〃Look　around　you；　Mr。　Pitt。　You're　hardly　in　a　position　of　strength。　The　Cubans　do　not　take　kindly　to　spies。　You　would　be　wise　to　lay　down　your　gun　and　place　yourself　under　my　protection。〃
　　　　〃No；　thank　you。　I've　been　under　your　protection。　His　name　was　Foss　Gly。　You　remember　him。　He　got　high　by　pounding　his　fists　on　flesh。　I'm　happy　to　report　he's　no　longer　in　the　pain　business。　One　of　his　victims　shot　him　where　it　hurts　most。〃
　　　　〃My　men　can　kill　you　where　you　stand。〃
　　　　〃It's　obvious　they　don't　understand　English　and　haven't　got　any　idea　of　what's　being　said　between　us。　Don't　try　to　alert　them。　This　is　what's　known　as　a　Mexican　standoff。　You　so　much　as　pick　your　nose　and　I'll　put　a　bullet　up　the　opposite　nostril。〃
　　　　Pitt　glanced　around　him。　Both　the　Cuban　checkpoint　guard　and　the　Soviet　driver　were　listening　dumbly　to　the　English　conversation。　Jessie　was　crouched　down　in　the　backseat　of　the　Chevy；　only　the　top　of　the　fatigue　cap　showing　above　the　side　window。　Velikov's　guards　stood　lax；　their　eyes　and　minds　turning　to　the　landscape；　automatic　pistols　snapped　securely　in　their　holsters。
　　　　〃Get　in　the　car；　General。　You'll　be　riding　with　us。〃
　　　　Velikov　stared　coldly　at　Pitt。　〃And　if　I　refuse？〃
　　　　Pitt　stared　back　with　grim　conviction。　〃You　die　first。　Then　your　bodyguards。　After　them；　the　Cuban　sentries。　I'm　prepared　to　kill。　They're　not。　Now；　if　you　please。　。　。〃
　　　　The　Soviet　bodyguards　stood　rooted　and　looked　on　in　rapt　amazement　as　Velikov　silently　followed　Pitt's　gesture　and　entered　the　front　passenger's　seat。　He　turned　briefly　and　gazed　curiously　at　Jessie。
　　　　〃Mrs。　LeBaron？〃
　　　　〃Yes；　General。〃
　　　　〃You're　with　this　madman？〃　I　am。'
　　　　〃But　why？〃
　　　　Figueroa　opened　his　mouth　to　interrupt；　but　Pitt　roughly　shouldered　the　Soviet　driver　aside；　firmly　gripped　the　friendly　Cuban's　arm；　and　pulled　him　from　the　car。
　　　　〃This　is　as　far　as　you　go；　amigo。　Tell　the　authorities　we　abducted　you　and　hijacked　your　taxi。〃　Then　he　passed　his　rifle　to　Jessie　through　the　open　window　and　angled　his　long　frame　behind　the　wheel。　〃If　the　general　so　much　as　twitches；　shoot　him　through　the　head。〃
　　　　Jessie　nodded　and　placed　the　gun　barrel　against　the　base　of　Velikov's　skull。
　　　　Pitt　shifted　the　Chevy　into　first　gear　and　accelerated　smoothly　as　if　he　was　on　a　Sunday　drive；　watching　the　figures　at　the　checkpoint　through　the　rearview　mirror。　He　was　gratified　to　see　that　they　milled　around　in　confusion；　not　sure　of　what　to　do。　Then　Velikov's　driver　and　bodyguards　finally　woke　up　to　what　was　happening；　ran　to　the　black　limousine；　and　took　up　the　chase。
　　　　Pitt　skidded　to　a　stop　and　took　the　gun　from　Jessie。　He　fired　several　shots　at　a　pair　of　telephone　wires　where　they　ran　through　insulators　at　the　top　of　a　pole。　The　car　was　burning　rubber　on　the　asphalt　before　the　parted　ends　of　the　wire　dropped　to　the　ground。
　　　　〃That　should　buy　us　half　an　hour；〃　he　said。
　　　　〃The　limousine　is　only　a　hundred　yards　behind　and　gaining。〃　Jessie's　voice　was　high…pitched　and　apprehensive。
　　　　〃You'll　never　shake　them〃　said　Velikov　calmly。　〃My　driver　is　an　expert　at　high　speeds；　and　the　car　is　powered　by　a　seven…liter　425…horsepower　engine。〃
　　　　For　all　of　Pitt's　offhandedness　and　casual　speech　there　was　an　icy　petence　and　an　unmistakable　air　about　him　of　someone　who　knew　exactly　what　he　was　doing。
　　　　He　offered　Velikov　a　reckless　smile　and　said；　〃The　Russians　haven't　built　a　car　that　can　take　a　'fifty…seven　Chevy。〃
　　　　As　if　to　hammer　home　the　point　he　mashed　the　gas　pedal　to　the　floor　and　the　tired　old　car　seemed　to　reach　into　the　depths　of　her　worn　parts　for　a　burst　of　power　she　hadn't　known　in　thirty　years。　The　big　roaring　lump　of　iron　could　still　go。　She　gathered　speed　and　ate　up　the　highway；　the　steady　roar　of　her　squat　V…8　meant　business。
　　　　Pitt's　entire　mind　was　concentrated　on　his　driving　and　on　studying　the　road　two；　even　three　turns　ahead。　The　Zil　clung　tenaciously　to　the　smokescreen　that　poured　from　the　Chevy's　tailpipe。　He　threw　the　car　around　a　series　of　hairpin　turns　as　they　climbed　through　forested　hills。　He　was　skirting　the　fine　edge　of　disaster。　The　brakes　were　awful　and　did　little　but　smell　and　smoke　when　Pitt　stood　on　them。　Their　lining　was　gone　and　metal　ground　against　metal　inside　the　drums。
　　　　At　ninety　miles　an　hour　a　front…wheel　wobble　set　in　with　eyeball…rattling　proportions。　The　steering　wheel　shuddered　in　Pitt's　hands。　The　shock　absorbers　were　long　gone　and　the　Chevy　sponged　around　the　bends；　leaning　precariously；　tires　screeching　like　wild　turkeys。
　　　　Velikov　sat　stiff　as　wood；　his　eyes　trained　straight　ahead；　one　hand　gripping　the　door　handle　with　white　knuckles　as　if　ready　to　eject　before　the　inevitable　crash。
　　　　Jessie　was　frankly　terrified；　closing　her　eyes　as　the　car　drifted　and　swayed　wildly　along　the　road。　She　braced　her　knees　on　the　back　of　the　front　seat　to　keep　from　being　thrown　from　side　to　side　and　steadied　the　rifle　aimed　at　Velikov's　lower　hairline。
　　　　If　Pitt　was　aware　of　the　considerable　anguish　he　was　causing　his　passengers；　he　gave　no　sign　of　it。　A　half…hour　head　start　was　the　most　he　could　hope　for　before　the　Cuban　sentries　made　contact　with　their　superiors　and　reported　the　kidnapping　of　the　Soviet　general。　A　helicopter　would　be　the　first　sign　the　Cuban　military　was　closing　in　and　preparing　a　trap。　When　and　how　far　ahead　they　would　set　up　a　roadblock　was　a　matter　of　pure　conjecture。　A　tank　or　a　small　fleet　of　armored　cars　suddenly　appearing　around　a　hidden　curve　and　the　ride　would　be　over。　Only　Velikov's　presence　forestalled　a　massacre。
　　　　The　driver　of　the　Zil　was　no　lightweight。　He　gained　on　Pitt　in　the　turns；　but　dropped　back　in　the　straights　as　the　burning　acceleration　of　the　old　Chevy　took　hold。　Out　of　the　corner　of　one　eye　Pitt　caught　a　small　sign　indicating　they　were　approaching　the　port　city　of　Cardenas。　Houses　and　small　roadside　businesses　began　to　hug　the　highway　and　the　traffic　increased。
　　　　He　glanced　at　the　speedometer。　The　wavering　needle　hovered　around　85。　He　backed　off　until　it　dropped　to　70；　keeping　the　Zil　at　bay　as　he　weaved　in　and　out　of　the　traffic；　one　hand　heavy　on　the　horn。　A　policeman　made　a　futile　attempt　to　wave　him　to　the　curb　as　he　careened　around　the　Plaza　Colon　and　a　high　bronze　statue　of　Columbus。　Luckily　the　streets　were　broad　and　he　had　little　trouble　staying　clear　of　pedestrians　and　other　vehicles。
　　　　The　city　lay　just　inland　of　a　shallow；　circular　bay；　and　as　long　as　he　kept　the　sea　on　his　right　he　figured　he　was　still　heading　toward　Havana。　Somehow　he　managed　to　stay　on　the　main　road；　and