"Tim LaHaye & Jerry Jenkins - Left Behind Series 1 - Left Behind" - читать интересную книгу автора (LaHaye Tim)

was available for no more than eight pilots and would make a run to Mount
Prospect, Arlington Heights, and Des Plaines. Rayford hurried to the pad. “Got
room for one to Mount Prospect?”
“How about another to Des Plaines?”
“Maybe, if he gets here in about two minutes.”
“It's not a he. She's a flight attendant.”
“Pilots only. Sorry.”
“What if you have room?”
“Well, maybe, but I don't see her.”
“I'll have her paged.”
“They're not paging anyone.”
“Give me a second. Don't leave without me.”
The chopper pilot looked at his watch. “Three minutes,” he said. “I'm leavin' at
one.”
Rayford left his bag on the ground, hoping it would hold the helicopter pilot in case
he was a little late. He charged up the stairs and into the corridor. Finding Hattie
would be impossible. He grabbed a courtesy phone. “I'm sorry, we're unable to page
anyone just now.”
“This is an emergency and I am a Pan-Continental captain.”
“What is it?”
“Have Hattie Durham meet her party at K-17.”
“I'll try.”
“Do it!”
Rayford stood on tiptoe to see Hattie coming, yet still somehow she surprised him.
“I was fourth in line for the phone in the lounge,” she said, appearing at his side.
“Got a better deal?”
“Got us a helicopter ride if we hurry,” he said.
As they skipped down the stairs she said, “Wasn't it awful about Chris?”
“What about him?”
“You really don't know?”
Rayford wanted to stop and tell her to quit making so much work so hard. That
frustrated him about people her age. They enjoyed a volleying conversation game.
He liked to get to the point. “Just tell me!” he said, sounding more exasperated than
he intended.
As they burst through the door and onto the tarmac, the chopper blades whipped
their hair and deafened them. Rayford's bag had already been put on board, and only
one seat remained. The pilot pointed at Hattie and shook his head. Rayford grabbed
her elbow and pulled her aboard as he climbed in. “Only way she's not coming is if
you can't handle the weight!”
“What do you weigh, doll?” the pilot said.
“One-fifteen!”
“I can handle the weight!” he told Rayford. “But if she's not buckled in, I'm not
responsible!”
“Let's go!” Rayford shouted.
He buckled himself in and Hattie sat in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her
waist and clasped his wrists together. He thought how ironic it was that he had been
dreaming of this for weeks, and now there was no joy, no excitement in it, nothing
sensual whatever. He was miserable. Glad to be able to help her out, but miserable.
Hattie looked embarrassed and uncomfortable, and Rayford noticed she took a
sheepish peek at the other seven pilots in the copter. None seemed to return her