"Jerry Pournelle - 01 - Janissaries" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pournelle Jerry)

the Agency had borrowed men from anywhere they could get them.
Galloway handed the bottle back to Parsons, who raised it in a mock toast.
“Here’s to us. There are damned few left.”
“They’re taking their own sweet time about com-ing,” Rick said.
“Afraid of us.” Parson’s voice was a mocking lilt in the dark.
“Sure,” Galloway said. But they well might be, he thought. We’ve broken more
than one Cuban mercenary outfit. With any help at all from the politicians who
put us out here in Sainte Marie, we’d have won. At that it was a near thing. What
was it Wellington said about Waterloo? A near-run thing—as near a thing as
you’d ever hope to see. Well so was this, but the difference is it’s us who lost it.
Officially they were volunteers, and received no direct support from the United
States at all; but most of the men were veterans of the US Army, and the CIA had
brought them in. The Cubans and Rus-sians had made no secret at all of their aid
to the other side.
“I got headquarters,” Sergeant Elliot announced.
file:///C|/2590%20Sci-Fi%20and%20Fantasy%20...20Pournelle%20-%2001%20-%20Janissaries.html (3 of 184) [12/29/2004 12:13:08 AM]
 JANISSARIES


“Mirabile dictu” Parsons muttered.
Rick crawled over to the radio. Perhaps prayers are answered after all, he thought.
There was more automatic weapon fire from the south, and a mortar bomb
dropped in fifty yards downhill. Rick estimated the enemy at less than a mile. It
wouldn’t be long now.
“Galloway here,” he told the microphone. “Can you get us the hell out of here?”
“Negative.”
The single word was a death sentence. Rick started to say that, then thought better
of it. They knew. “Why not?”
“I’m sorry, Rick.” Galloway recognized Colonel Blumfeld’s voice. Blumfeld was
one of the men who’d talked him into volunteering for this mission. “Washington
has canceled all support. Highest level. I’d send the choppers anyway and to hell
with my career, but I don’t have any to send. They came and took them away.”
“They?”
“Higher command.” Blumfeld sounded unhappy. Rick thought he damned well
ought to be unhappy. “Your orders are to surrender,” Blumfeld said.
“Bat puckey. The Cubans will have us in a show trial as mercenaries,” Rick said.
“Then they’ll shoot us.”
“They say they won’t.”
“Sure. Colonel, are you sending me any support? Anything at all?”
“No.”
“Then go to hell.” Galloway handed the mike to Sergeant Elliot, then went back
to where Parsons stood.
Parsons listened with a half-smile that barely showed in starlight. Then he took
out his wine bot-tle. “We had a good run,” he said.
Rick reached for the bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”
“And now what?”
Rick shrugged. There were few choices. They were white men in a black country.
Rick had always been quick to learn languages, but even he hadn’t enough of the
local patois to do more than buy groceries. They would be spotted easily
wherever they went.