"Edmond Hamilton - The Valley of Creation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Edmond)


“A full column of the Chinese Red Army is on its way here from Nun−Yan,” he said. “It will be here by
tomorrow noon.”

Nick Sloan's tawny eyes narrowed slightly. “That's pretty fast action. But it's only what we expected.”

Yes, Eric Nelson thought heavily. It was only what they had expected.

They five had been staff officers for Yu Chi, a onetime minor warlord in the old China who had fled the
country when the Communists took over. For years, Yu Chi had made his base in the no−man's−land of wild
mountains that thrust up like a fist between China, Burma and Tibet, a region where boundaries and
sovereignties were shadowy things. Every so often the old warlord, posing as a liberator, had made a foray
which pretended to be a guerrilla action against the Reds but which was really a looting raid.

Of the five of them, Li Kin was the only one with any patriotic motives. The others were frankly mercenaries,
picking up whatever they could in the troubles of southeast Asia. Nelson had been such a mercenary for ten
years, ever since the Korean War ended and he decided that he liked adventure too much to go home. Nick
Sloan had been in Asia nearly as long. Van Voss and the little Cockney were fugitive criminals, but tough
fighting−men.

But now the five were at the end of their rope. Yu Chi had gone on one “liberation” raid too many, and had
walked into a tiger−trap of Red troops here. They had won the battle, and the town. But Yu Chi was dead, his

The Valley Of Creation 3
The Valley Of Creation

motley army had broken up, and when Communist reinforcements reached the village, there would be short
shrift for five mercenaries.

“We've got to get out of here by tomorrow morning or we're cooked,” Nick Sloan said curtly.

Lefty Wister had awakened and stood, a cigarette drooping laxly from his thin lips. Van Voss was stretching
hugely in his bunk, scratching his enormous paunch as he listened.

“Where can we go without running into the bloody Red troops?” whined the little Cockney.

Nelson shrugged. “North, east and south we'd walk right into their hands. West there's only the Kunlun
Mountains, and without a guide we'd merely dodge around in there until the tribesmen got us.”

Li Kin raised his tired head. “That reminds me. A tribesman from those mountains wanted to talk to me last
night. Something about hiring us to fight for his people.”

Van Voss grunted. “Some verdommte Trans−Tibetan tribe that wants a few machine−guns to crush their
neighbors.”

Sloan's hard face was thoughtful. “It might be an out, though. In those mountains, if we knew our way, we'd
be safe. Where is the man?”

“Still waiting outside, I think,” said the Chinese. “I'll get him.” He went heavily toward the doorway.