The Tarantula Stone. Philip Caveney
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Название: The Tarantula Stone

Автор: Philip Caveney

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Приключения: прочее

Серия:

isbn: 9780008127992

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ that the boy would give him permission to leave.

      The gun swung across to cover him. ‘You just stay right where you are, senhor.’

      ‘Hey, but look, you know … we’ve been flying for over three hours. We’ve still got a long way to go. What am I supposed to do, piss in my pants?’

      ‘Yeah, if you have to. I sure as hell ain’t gonna let you go out back.’

      ‘Hey, but look, I gotta go real bad …’

      Surreptitiously, Mike reached his hands into his lap and unclipped his seat belt. Ricardo was still talking, half-rising from his chair, his arms outstretched. Mike began to lean slightly forward, so he could reach down to touch the butt of the shotgun.

      ‘Hey you, whatcha doin’?’

      Mike turned his head to look back at the boy. ‘Nothin’, just stretching a little …’

      ‘You hold still!’ He waved the gun at Ricardo. ‘And you, I’m tellin’ you to sit down. Do it now!’

      Ricardo would not let the idea alone. He began to move forward, out of his seat, his hands held up above his head. ‘I tell you what, I’ll make a deal with you –’

      That was as far as he got. The boy stepped forward and brought the barrel of his pistol down with sickening force against the side of the co-pilot’s head. He reeled back and collapsed against his seat. He was out cold.

      ‘You little bastard!’ snapped Mike. ‘Why did you do that?’

      ‘Because he was trying something, that’s why.’ The boy prodded Ricardo’s inert form with his right foot.

      ‘You could have killed him. You didn’t have to hit him so hard.’

      ‘Maybe not. Anyway, we don’t need him.’ He leaned forward and, picking up Ricardo’s charts, threw them contemptuously into Mike’s lap. ‘It’s easier to watch one man than two. Now, Captain, don’t do nothin’ stupid. Remember, you’re responsible for all them good passengers back there … and the girl too. I guess you wanna get her ass back down in one piece, huh?’

      ‘You lousy bastard,’ said Mike tonelessly.

      ‘Sure, Chefe,’ the boy chuckled, ‘that’s the way. You just call me whatever you like; and make damn sure you get us to that airstrip. Look at the distance we’re puttin’ behind us. Soon, there won’t be any other place in reach.’

      Then it’s gotta be soon, thought Mike calmly. Ricardo’s out of the way now and if the bastard doesn’t give me an opening I’ll have to make one.

      He unfolded Ricardo’s chart and placed it on his lap, pretending to study it intently; but all the time he kept his gaze fixed on the wooden butt of the shotgun. He figured he had maybe another fifteen minutes to wait for an opening; then, ready or not, he would have to make his move.

      Claudio woke with a yawn. He stretched himself luxuriously and ran a hand through his black hair. He scratched himself and turned to blink at Martin.

      ‘Oh, how I hate these long flights! Forgive me, senhor, but you looked so comfortable, I decided to join you.’

      ‘Don’t mention it! Would you like a drink? They do an interesting warm triple whisky here.’

      ‘Oh no thank you. Too early in the day for me. You have the time, please?’

      ‘Sure. It’s a little after four, so I guess we’ve done about half of it. First thing I do when I get to Belém is find a good hotel room with a hot shower.’ The hostess moved past him to take drinks to the seat in front. He watched thoughtfully as she bent forward and handed the glasses to the old couple who sat there. ‘On second thoughts, make that a cold shower.’

      Claudio chuckled. ‘Oh, Senhor Taggart, I fear that you are beyond saving! But at any rate, I think I can recommend a good hotel that …’ Claudio’s voice trailed away in mid sentence. He was looking out of the window at the landscape below.

      ‘Somethin’ wrong?’ inquired Martin, puzzled by his silence.

      ‘Well … it is only that we … appear to have changed direction.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘I have flown this route many times. The jungle below looks different somehow.’

      ‘Hell, I wouldn’t know one piece of Brazil from the next. Maybe we’re just flyin’ a different way.’

      ‘I hardly think so.’ Claudio was standing up now, craning his head around to peer this way and that through the window.

      ‘Hey, take it easy, Christopher Columbus! I’m sure the crew know where they’re headed.’

      ‘Yes, but you see, there’s something of a mystery here.’ He sat down in his seat, looking vaguely perplexed. ‘When we took off this morning, flying almost due north, the sun was, of course, to our right and slightly in front of us. Now, at … just after four, I think you said … we would surely expect it to be to our left.’

      Martin nodded. ‘Sounds logical.’

      ‘But it is not! It is right in front of us.’

      ‘Which means?’

      ‘Which means we are flying west … back towards the middle of Brazil, towards the headwaters of the Amazon.’ He shook his head. ‘But that doesn’t make any kind of sense. There’s nothing that way but jungle.’ He stood up again and began to peer back towards the rear of the plane.

      Martin frowned. He looked up at the hostess again. The old people in front were asking her interminable questions in Portuguese and she was answering them, but her gaze was, once again, fixed on the door.

      ‘Maybe there is something wrong,’ murmured Martin. He waited until the hostess had finished with the questions and then, as she turned to walk past him, reached out and grabbed her wrist.

      She looked down at him in surprise. ‘I asked you before if there was anything wrong,’ he told her quietly. ‘Now I’m asking you again.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ she blustered. ‘Everything’s fine … now, please let go of my arm.’ But Martin kept hold and pulled her gently but firmly closer.

      ‘My friend here seems to think we’ve changed course,’ he said beneath his breath. ‘And you seem damned interested in what’s going on behind that door. If anything is wrong, I think you’d better tell us, now.’

      She stared at him for a moment, a look of indecision in her eyes. ‘It’s a … a temporary change of course,’ she stammered. ‘A fuel correction, that’s all.’

      But Claudio shook his head. ‘That doesn’t make any sense. We’re heading inland, aren’t we?’ She lowered her head, her lips pursed. ‘Aren’t we?’ repeated Claudio, a little louder.

      Helen glanced nervously around. ‘Please, the other passengers …’

      ‘Then tell us the truth,’ persisted СКАЧАТЬ