"Higgins, Jack - Sheba" - читать интересную книгу автора (Higgins Jack)

He left Piroo on deck securing the dinghy and went down to his cabin. It was dark and quiet and the moonlight crept in through the porthole and touched him with ghostly fingers.

He lay down on the bunk and stared up at the cabin roof and thought about Marie. For a moment the darkness was touched by her presence and she seemed to smile at him as he drifted into sleep.

EIGHT

THE FISHING BOATS were slipping out through the harbour entrance towards the Gulf as Kane turned off the jetty and moved along the waterfront. He lit a cigarette, the first of the day, and coughed as the smoke caught at the back of his throat. He felt tired and there was a slight ache behind his right eye. For a moment he paused, watching the fishing boats dip into the Gulf current, white sails shining in the early morning sun, and then he continued towards the hotel.

He was wearing khaki pants and shirt and a battered felt bush hat. On impulse, he had slipped the Colt into his hip pocket before leaving the launch. He had many friends amongst the tribesmen of the Shabwa area, but one could never be too sure.

Ruth Cunningham was standing on the steps of the hotel when he arrived. She was wearing a white blouse, open at the neck, and cream whipcord slacks. Her hair was bound with the same blue scarf she had worn on no that first occasion, and when she smiled she looked extremely attractive.

'Will I do?' she demanded, spreading her arms slightly.

Kane nodded. 'Decorative, but serviceable.' He glanced at his watch. 'We'll have to step on it. I don't want to keep Marie waiting.'

They didn't speak much as they walked through a maze of narrow alleys and emerged on the edge of town. She had dark smudges under her eyes as if she had not slept well, and there was a strained, anxious look to her that he didn't like.

The airstrip was a quarter of a mile outside Dahrein in the opening of a narrow pass which cut deeply into the mountains. It was not an official stopping place for any of the major airlines and had been constructed as an emergency strip by the Spanish Air Force.

There was one hangar, a crumbling, decrepit building in concrete with a roof of corrugated iron. They could see the plane squatting on the runway from a long way off, a de Havilland Rapide painted scarlet and silver. Its twin engines were already ticking over as they approached.

Jamal was sitting in one of the rear seats and Marie jumped down to the ground and came to meet them. Kane made the introduction and the two women shook hands. in

'It's very kind of you to help in this way,' Ruth Cunningham said.

Marie shrugged. 'It's nothing, Mrs Cunningham. Nothing at all. I'm going up to Bir el Madani on business, anyway.' She turned to Kane, a slight smile on her face and her eyes sparkled. 'I hope you slept well, Gavin. Sorry to rush you, but I promised Jordan I'd be there by seven-thirty.'

Ruth Cunningham climbed into the seat next to Jamal, who stared stolidly ahead and ignored her. Marie slipped into the pilot's seat and then turned enquiringly to Kane. 'Would you like to fly her?'

He nodded and she stepped into the passenger area, making room for him. He taxied slowly along the ground and turned into the wind. A moment later and the end of the airstrip was rushing to meet them. He pulled the column back slowly and the Rapide lifted into the pass, rock walls flashing by on either side.

The air was bumpy as they flew out of the pass, for a forty-knot wind was blowing across the mountains. They climbed through heat haze that already blurred the horizon, and levelled off at six thousand feet to cross the coastal range.

Beyond the mountains the sky was a brilliant sapphire and, within half an hour, the real desert appeared in the distance, its colours varying between burnished gold and deep red.

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Suddenly, they were passing over a tall oil derrick surrounded by a group of tents and several vehicles, and then Ruth Cunningham cried excitedly, 'Look, there's a truck down there!'

Kane glanced out of the window and saw a truck moving at high speed in the direction in which they were flying. A little later, a dark splotch appeared in the distance. Within a few minutes it had increased into a clump of green palm trees and a scattered group of flat-roofed houses.

The airstrip was a narrow slot between two dunes, with a windsock on a tall pole at one end. Kane circled once and then turned into the wind for a perfect landing between two rows of empty oil drums. As he taxied to the far end of the airstrip, the truck appeared from among the houses and moved towards them in a cloud of dust.

Kane switched off the engines, opened the door and jumped to the ground. He turned and handed the two women down in turn as the truck braked to a halt a few feet away and a man slid from behind the wheel and came to meet them.

He was young, with a bronzed, reckless face, and his fair hair was closely cropped. He was dressed in sun-bleached khaki and a revolver was slung low on his right hip in a black leather holster.

His teeth flashed in a ready smile and he cried, 'The Devil himself. What brings you up here?'