"02 - Blue Gold (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cussler Clive)

"What in God's name is going on, Phillipo?"

A grave expression came onto his face. "There was something your father didn't tell you."

"I don't understand."


Phillipo glanced toward the closed cockpit. "He had heard things. Nothing that would persuade him you were in danger, but enough so that he would like the reassurance of knowing I would be nearby if you needed help."

"Looks like we could both use some help."

"Sim, senhora. But unfortunately we must do for ourselves."

"Do you have a gun?" she said abruptly.

"Of course," he said, faintly amused at the hard-nosed question from this beautiful and cultured woman. "Would you like me to shoot them?"

"I didn't meanЧno, of course not," she said glumly. "Do you have any ideas?"

'A gun is not just for shooting," he said. "You can use it for intimidation, use its threat to make people do things they don't want to do."

"Like pointing us in the right direction?"

"I hope, senhora. I will go forward. I will ask them politely to land at the nearest airport, saying it is your wish. If they refuse I will show them my gun and say I would not like to use it."

"You can't use it," Francesca said with alarm. "If you put a hole in the plane at this altitude, it would depressurize the cabin, and we'd all be dead within seconds."

"A good point. It will increase their fear." He took her hand and squeezed it. "I told your father I would watch out for you, senhora. "

She shook her head as if it would make the situation go away. "What if I'm wrong? That these are innocent pilots doing their job?"

"Simple," he said with a shrug. "We call ahead on the radio, we land at the nearest airport, we bring in the police, we straighten things out, then we resume our trip."

They cut their conversation short. The door to the cockpit had opened, and the captain stepped into the cabin. He ambled forward, having to bend his head because of the low overhead.

"That was some joke you just told us," he said with his crooked grin. "Got any more?"
"Sorry, senhor," Phillipo said.

"Waall, I got one for you," the pilot replied. Riordan's droopy, heavy-lidded eyes gave him a sleepy look. But there was nothing sluggish about the way he reached behind his back and produced the pistol he had tucked in his belt.

"Hand it over," he said to Phillipo. "Real slow."

Phillipo gingerly opened his jacket wide so the shoulder holster was in plain view, then extracted his gun by the tips of his fingers. The pilot stuck the gun in his belt.

"Grazyeass, amigo," he said. "Always nice to deal with a professional." He sat on an armrest and with his free hand lit a cigarette. "Me and my partner have been talking, and we think maybe you're on to us. Figured you were checking us out when you came up a second time, so we decided to lay it all out so there won't be any misunderstandings."

"Captain Riordan, what is going on?" Francesca said. "Where are you taking us?"

"They said you were smart," the pilot said with a chuckle. "My partner never should have started bragging about the plane." He blew twin plumes of smoke from his nostrils. "You're right. We're not going to Miami, we're on our way to Trinidad."