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第38部分

if.thunderball-第38部分

小说: if.thunderball 字数: 每页4000字

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water's like glass。〃 He pulled away; curved back; and slowly put the nose down。 There was a slight jerk and then the hiss of the water under the skids。 Leiter cut his engines and the plane came to a quick stop; rocking in the water about ten yards from where Bond wanted。 The two sharks on the surface paid no attention。 They pleted their circle and came slowly back。 They passed so close to the plane that Bond could see the incurious; pink button eyes。 He peered down through the small ripples cast by the two dorsal fins。 Yes! Those 〃rocks〃 on the bottom were bogus。 They were painted patches。 So were the areas of 〃sand。〃 Now Bond could clearly see the straight edges of the giant tarpaulin。 The third shark had nosed back a big section。 Now it was shoveling with its flat head trying to get underneath。
 
 Bond sat back。 He turned to Leiter。 He nodded。 〃That's it; all right。 Big camouflaged tarpaulin over her。 Take a look。〃
 
 While Leiter leaned across Bond and stared down; Bond's mind was racing furiously。 Get the Police missioner on the police wavelength and report? Get signals sent off to London? No! If the radio operation on the Disco was doing his job; he would be keeping watch on the police frequency。 So go on down and have a look。 See if the bombs were still there。 Bring up a piece of evidence。 The sharks? Kill one and the others would go for the corpse。
 
 Leiter sat back。 His face was shining with excitement。 〃Well; I'll be goddammed! Boy oh boy!〃 He clapped Bond on the back。 〃We've found it! We've found the goddam plane。 Whaddya know? Jesus Kerist!〃
 
 Bond had taken out the Walther PPK。 He checked to see there was a round in the chamber; rested it on his left forearm; and waited for the two sharks to e round again。 The first was the bigger; a hammerhead; nearly twelve feet long。 Its hideously distorted head moved slowly from side to side as it nuzzled through the water; watching what went on below; waiting for a sign of meat。 Bond aimed for the base of the dorsal fin that cut through the water like a dark sail。 It was fully erect; a sign of tension and awareness in the big fish。 Just below it was the spine; unassailable except with a nickel…plated bullet。 He pulled the trigger。 There was a phut as the bullet hit the surface just behind the dorsal。 The boom of the heavy gun rolled away over the sea。 The shark paid no attention。 Bond fired again。 The water foamed as the fish reared itself above the surface; dived shallowly; and came up thrashing sideways like a broken snake。 It was a brief flurry。 The bullet must have severed the spinal cord。 Now the great brown shape began moving sluggishly in circles that grew ever wider。 The hideous snout came briefly out of the water to show the sickle mouth gasping。 For a moment it rolled over on its back; its stomach white to the sun。 Then it righted itself and; dead probably; continued its mechanical; disjointed swim。
 
 The following shark had watched all this。 Now it approached cautiously。 It made a short snapping run and swerved away。 Feeling safe; it darted in again; seemed to nuzzle at the dying fish; and then lifted its snout above the surface and came down with all its force; scything into the flank of the hammerhead。 It got hold; but the flesh was tough。 It shook its great brown head like a dog; worrying at the mouthful; and then tore itself away。 A cloud of blood poured over the sea。 Now the other shark appeared from below and both fish; in a frenzy; tore and tore again at the still moving hulk whose nervous system refused to die。
 
 The dreadful feast moved away on the current and was soon only a distant splashing on the surface of the quiet sea。
 
 Bond handed Leiter the gun。 〃I'll get on down。 May be rather a long job。 They've got enough to keep them busy for half an hour; but if they e back; wing one of them。 And if for any reason you Want me back on the surface; fire straight down at the water and go on firing。 The shock wave should just about reach me。〃
 
 Bond began to struggle out of his clothes and; with Leiter's help; into his aqualung。 It was a cramped; difficult business。 It would be still worse getting back into the plane and it occurred to Bond that he would have to jettison the underwater gear。 Leiter said angrily; 〃I wish to God I could get down there with you。 Trouble with this damned hook; it just won't swim like a hand。 Have to think up some rubber webbing gadget。 Never occurred to me before。〃
 
 Bond said; 〃You'll have to keep steam up on this crate。 We've already drifted a hundred yards。 Get her back up; like a good chap。 I don't know who I'm going to find sharing the wreck with me。 It's been here a good five days and other visitors may have moved in first。〃
 
 Leiter pressed the starter and taxied back into position。 He said; 〃You know the design of the Vindicator? You know where to look for the bombs and these detonator things the pilot has charge of?〃 〃Yes。 Full briefing in London。 Well; so long。 Tell Mother I died game!〃 Bond scrambled onto the edge of the cockpit and jumped。 He got his head under and swam leisurely down through the brilliant water。 Now he could see that there were swarms of fish over the whole area below him…bill fish; small barracuda; jacks of various types…the carnivores。 They parted grudgingly to make room for their big; pale petitor。 Bond touched down and made for the edge of the tarpaulin that had been dislodged by the shark。 He pulled out a couple of the long corkscrew skewers that secured it to the sand; switched on his waterproof torch and; his other hand on his knife; slipped under the edge。
 
 He had been expecting it; but the foulness of the water made him retch。 He clamped his lips more tightly round the mouthpiece and squirmed on to where the bulk of the plane raised the tarpaulin into a domed tent。 He stood up。 His torch glittered on the underside of a polished wing and then; below it; on something that lay under a scrabbling mass of crabs; langoustes; sea caterpillars and starfish。 This also Bond had been prepared for。 He knelt down to his grisly work。 It didn't take long。 He undipped the gold identification disk and unlatched the gold wrist watch from the horrible wrists and noted the gaping wound under the chin that could not have been caused by sea creatures。 He turned his torch on the gold disk。 It said; 〃Giuseppe Petacchi。 No。 15932。〃 He strapped the two bits of evidence to his own wrists and went on toward the fuselage that loomed in the darkness like a huge silver submarine。 He inspected the exterior; noted the rent where the hull had been broken on impact; and then climbed up through the open safety hatch into the interior。
 
 Inside; Bond's torch shone everywhere into red eyes that glowed like rubies in the darkness; and there was a soft movement and scuttling。 He sprayed the light up and down the fuselage。 Every where there were octopuses; small ones; but perhaps a hundred of them; weaving on the tips of their tentacles; sliding softly away into protecting shadows; changing their camouflage nervously from brown to a pale phosphorescence that gleamed palely in the patches of darkness。 The whole fuselage seemed to be crawling with them; evilly; horribly; and as Bond shone his torch on the roof the sight was even worse。 There; bumping softly in the slight current; hung the corpse of a crew member。 In deposition; it had risen up from the floor; and octopuses; hanging from it like bats; now let go their hold and shot; jet…propelled; to and fro inside the plane…dreadful; glinting; red…eyed ets that slapped themselves into dark corners and stealthily squeezed themselves into cracks and under seats。
 
 Bond closed his mind to the disgusting nightmare and; weaving his torch in front of him; proceeded with his search。
 
 He found the red…striped cyanide canister and tucked it into his belt。 He counted the corpses; noted the open hatch to the bomb bay; and verified that the bombs had gone。 He looked in the open container under the pilot's seat and searched in alternative places for the vital fuses for the bombs。 But they also had gone。 Finally; having a dozen times had to slash away groping tentacles from his naked legs; he felt his nerve was quickly seeping away。 There was much he should have taken with him; the identification disks of the crew; the pulp of the log book that showed nothing but routine flight details and no hint of emergency readings from the instrument panel; but he couldn't stand another second of the squirming; red…eyed catab。 He slid out through the escape hatch and swam almost hysterically toward the thin line of light that was the edge of the tarpaulin。 Desperately; he scrabbled his way under it; snagged the cylinder on his back in the folds; and had to back under again to free himself。 And then he was out in the beautiful crystal water and soaring up to the surface。 At twenty feet the pain in his ears reminded him to stop and depress。 Impatiently; staring up at the sweet hull of the seaplane above him; he waited until the pain had subsided。 Then he was up and clinging to a float and tearing at his equipment to get rid of it and its contamination。 He let it all go and watched it tumbling slowly down toward the sand。 He rinsed his mouth out with the swee

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