"William Forstchen - Crystal Warriors 1 - Crystal Warriors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forstchen William R)

almost sadly. Through aching eyes he watched as Sergeant Saito weaved his way down the slope and
came to attention, snapping a weary salute.

"Captain."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"The plane is just on the other side of this ridge, but I think the Chinese are already moving in."

"Thank you, Saito. Corporal Kantaro, take four men and try to slow our pursuers, but do not sacrifice
yourself. That is an order. Just give us enough time to reach the plane."

"Yes, Captain."

Following the sergeant, Ikawa crept up to the brow of the hill and looked over. Yes, the giant was there.
Intact. He had heard about the new bomber but this was indeed the first time he had actually looked at
one, and he admired its sleek, sweeping lines.

"Captain, look over there!"

He looked where the sergeant was pointing. From out of the hills on the other side of the narrow valley,
several hundred men dressed in dark uniforms were slowly advancing. He looked down at the plane
again. Yes, the Americans had seen them, as well.

"And there, Captain, look," Saito said softly, "one of the Americans is going over to them. See, there
along the trail, he's waving a white shirt."
"The fools. They'll soon find out."

For several minutes the captain watched the drama unfold. Behind him he could hear the high-pitched
staccato of a machine gun. His corporal was slowing the Chinese bandits advancing from the other
direction. For six days Ikawa's men had been running. Once they had numbered over a hundred, a
garrison outpost, but that was before a running retreat that had left a trail of dead over forty miles. Now,
with his back to the high mountains, the game was nearly up. Less than a score of his men were left, all
knowing that death would overtake them before the day was out. And then came these Americans,
landing right in a nest of the bandits who had been trying to cut off their retreat.

Ikawa half suspected what would happen. He should leave them and push on; they could serve him by
momentarily slowing the pursuit. But a perverse curiosity compelled him to watch.

The Chinese column swept down around the lone American waving the signal of surrender. The
swarming host stopped for a moment. The other Americans were gathered around their fallen plane,
waiting, watching.

Suddenly there was a glint of steel. The American carrying the flag turned and started to run but was
overborne by half a dozen men. They forced him to his knees, and a moment later a shower of scarlet
washed over his severed bead.

The captain looked at the sergeant, who smiled sadly.

"Now they know," the sergeant whispered.