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第18部分

gns.cannibalcult-第18部分

小说: gns.cannibalcult 字数: 每页4000字

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 answer for。 A left…wing terrorist; he has diversified from car…bombs and such things to an alliance with the dark powers and they appear to have accepted him as a disciple。 Pray God; Sabat; that we shall be in time to prevent this Walpurgisnacht feast; for if it es about the ultimate in evil will result; a coalition of malevolence in hell and on earth。 A n unstoppable power will be unleashed on the world and cannibalism will spread with the rapidity of a contagious plague?
  
  Sabat was waiting on the Schweizeshof beside Lake Lucerne as the sinking evening sun turned the waters a rich golden colour。 So peaceful; it was impossible to believe that the ing night held such perils。 He sauntered casually; watching every blue Peugeot that came along。 Every other car on the road tonight seemed to be a Peugeot。 Eventually one of them would draw into the kerb and Pieter Daunay would be behind the wheel。
  
  And the Witchfinder must be killed! Not just because Andre Schmid and Madeleine Gaufridi (Sabat still preferred to think of her by her first name; remember their meeting up on the Jungfrau when she displayed all the innocence of a young nun fleeing from her own conscience) demanded it。 But because that was the only way Quentin Sabai's unholy secret could be protected 。。。
  
  His anger mounted; a seething fury that had his whole body trembling; his vision a distorted red haze so that he was scarcely aware of the blue Peugeot gliding into the kerb; the hunchbacked driver reaching behind to open the rear door。
  
  Just another driver offering a pedestrian a lift; something that happened a hundred times a day in Lucerne and elsewhere。 The car pulled away; edged into the steady stream of traffic。
  
  Sabat's fury simmered; his eyes riveted on the humped figure behind the wheel。 An enemy; a dangerous one; one who had already meddled in the affairs of his family。 He had to be eliminated; but not right now。
  
  Sabat got his anger under control; a time…bomb ticking away inside him。 He could easily have made an excuse and got Daunay to stop the car; shot him and dragged him into the forest which bordered the road。 For a number of reasons he bided his time。 A slight hesitancy; but he would expel that before they reached the mountains; he did not even understand why he was uncertain。 He had no conscience where killing was concerned。 Secondly; he wanted to present Madeleine and Andre Schmid with undoubted proof that he had carried out his assignment。 A kind of personal pride in his own ruthless efficiency。
  
  Sabat stroked the butt of his revolver in its holster beneath his coat; gave a sigh of satisfaction and nestled himself fortably in a corner of the back seat
  
  Pieter Daunay changed down to second gear and the Peugeot began the ascent of the steep mountain road; entering a land of darkness where unspeakable evil lurked。
  
  Sabat smiled to himself。 Soon it would be time to kill。
  
  
   CHAPTER ELEVEN
   
  THE ROAD was rising very steeply now; a 1:4 gradient。 The Peugeot's engine stuttered; picked up again。 Pieter Daunay's hand rested on the gear lever; ready to change down to bottom。
  
  'How much further?' he grunted; the first time either of them had spoken since the suburbs of Lucerne had fallen away behind them; its lights shielded by the dark mountain forests; just a faint orange glow in the night sky behind。
  
  'Not far。' There was a sudden eagerness about Sabat's voice。' Somewhere on the left after this next bend。 Slow down or you'll miss it。 It's only a gap in the trees but there's a track leading up from it。 We'd better pull off the road there and go the rest of the way on foot; otherwise they'll hear the engine and see the lights。'
  
  The only sign that Daunay had heard was that he braked; slowed down to 20 k。p。h;; head turned to the left; searching for the concealed track amidst the trees。
  
  'There it is。'
  
  The Frenchman swung the wheel over; the tyres sinking into the soft grass; starting to spin。 The Peugeot slewed; nearly struck a tree。 Reversing; almost getting stuck; a narrow angle but eventually the car finished up pointing back the way it had e。 Engine and lights died; plunging everywhere into a sudden eerie black silence。
  
  'It is best to caterfor all eventualities;' PieterDaunay said; easing open the door。 'Just in case we have to make a quick getaway; Sabat。'
  
  Sabat hesitated; let his eyesight bee accustomed to the darkness of the forest。 A half moon and scudding clouds cast patches of faint silvery light; the shadows impenetrable as though they hid a thousand evils。 The silence hung heavy; not so much as a rustling of a tiny nocturnal creature。 Tonight everything was afraid to venture forth;
  
  'Lead the way;' Daunay's whisper was terse。 'I am right behind you。*
  
  Sabat moved; his SAS training taking over; a shadow that glided and merged with the other shadows。 The flesh on the back of his neck prickled for a multitude of reasons。 Daunay was as dangerous as he was himself and he would have preferred to have his panion where he could see him。 However; to have suggested that the Frenchman lead the way would have been ridiculous and aroused suspicion。 This was truly a game of cat and mouse。
  
  Daunay must be eliminated! Quentin's reminder of his mission had Sabat's stomach tightening like it was being crushed in a bout of colic。 He would kill Daunay… but what then? Just him and Madeleine and that awful corpse which had already begun to repair its guillotine mutilation。 Madeleine claimed Louis Nevillon would rise on Walpurgisnacht; that his body would not be eaten; that he would join them in an unholy; obscene; nauseating banquet。 Whose body would they eat then?
  
  'How far?' Pieter Daunay was impatient。 Their feet had to be forcibly dragged from the treacly mud。 'Could we not walk through the forest?'
  
  'I only know this way;' Sabat replied。 'We cannot risk being lost It should not be far now。'
  
  They seemed to have been walking for hours but in reality it had probably been no more than twenty minutes; progress that was slow; pausing every few yards to listen…but there was only an unbroken silence。 As though these whole mountains were waiting for something to happen。
  
  A bend in the track where a large pool of muddy rainwater had formed。 They skirted it; clutching at some overhanging prickly larch branches as they trod a precarious route along the grassy sides of the path。 Sabat's breathing was shallow; the clearing in which the old chapel stood was only a matter of twenty yards ahead of them。 He pulled up abruptly and Daunay bumped into him; almost slipped into the mud; cursed beneath his breath。 'What have you stopped for; Sabat?' 'We are almost there。 Another few yards and we shall see the chapel。' Sabat turned but Daunay was just an outline against the trees; his face bathed in shadow that hid his expression。
  
  'Move on then。 Let us get it over and done with!' 'Pieter; we have not planned this far。 They may well know of our ing for their powers are extraordinary。 We could be walking into a trap。'
  
  'A trap set by you; Sabat? An evil associate sent to lure me to their den of evil?' Daunay laughed grimly。
  
  Sabat tensed; the accusation piercing him like a sword thrust。 He was at a disadvantage; his enemy behind him and alerted。 'No; of course not。 I。。。'
  
  Sabat caught his breath as something hard and round dug painfully into the small of his back。 He recognised it instantly; knew that he had left it too late。 The hunted had bee the hunter。 A faint metallic click as the safety catch on Pieter Daunay's automatic was pushed forward。
  
  'I would not hesitate to shoot you; Sabat; and I think you know that。 A game of scheme and counter…scheme but I think I have outwitted you。 Now that you have brought me to this place I have no further use for you。 However; if there is a trap prepared inside that chapel; then it is you who will walk into it。 Walk slowly and keep your hands where I can see them!' Sabat took a step forward。 He thought about the ?38 in its holster but knew he had no chance of drawing it; not against a man like Pieter Daunay; this Witchfmder who might have stepped out of the middle ages was not blurring。
  
  The pressure of the gun on Sabat's spine was pushing him forward; moving him like some electronically controlled automaton。 He forced his brain to work; trying desperately to formulate some kind of plan…but there wasn't any。 He was a puppet being controlled。
  
  He stared ahead; saw the dim shape of the tiny chapel。 Faint streaks of light shafted out of the cracks in the ill…fitting door。 The black candles still burned。 Obviously Madeleine was still in there; Sabat had taken the van and unless Schmid and his followers had been and fetched her away she still had to be there。 Alone with the ghastly remains of the Beast of France。
  
  Sabat's mind was reeling。 He wondered if anything had transpired during his absence。 The way the severed head appeared to have knitted back on to the shoulders was something that defied explanation; did not bear thinking about。 Ins

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