"L'Amour, Louis - Last_of_the_Breed36" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

"In the films, sir. I saw it when I was a boy. The Indians used fire arrows to set wagons afire, and sometimes they shot them over the walls into forts."
Rukovsky swore. "Is there a radio working?" he asked then. "I want a ration drop, and I want supplies brought in. I am going in there after him."
Lieutenant Suvarov said nothing. He was only a liaison officer here, and he wished he was anywhere else. It was cold here, and it would be worse up in those mountains. He was a city man, more at home in the homes of top officials and embassies than here. Why did he not get that assignment to Japan, the one he wanted if he could not have Paris? His father had been an important man with connections. The trouble was, there were others with important fathers who were still alive. And Colonel Zamatev had actually asked for him, which was a great honor, but one he was beginning to question.
The radio was still working, and after a time they picked up a reply. Nothing could be done until tomorrow or the day after.
"No matter," Rukovsky said. "We can equip several squads, and we will send them out. Let's keep moving."
In the shelter of a huge boulder they built a fire, and two soldiers built a shelter for Colonel Rukovsky and Suvarov. It was cold, but spring was not far off. Suvarov said as much, and Rukovsky snorted. "In this country? Is there ever spring?"
He leaned back against the trunk of the tree that formed the back of their shelter. "Is this man really an Indian, Lieutenant?"
"He is, sir. A very fine flyer, too, by all reports. He had been testing one of their latest fighters, among other things."
"One doesn't think of a Red Indian doing things of that sort, but I know little about them."
"Alekhin's hunting him, sir. Somewhere about here, in fact."
"I wish he'd catch him. Or that somebody would. No, I would like to do it myself. A flyer, you say? An officer?"
"A major, sir."
"Where are the rest of the men?"
"Down the valley, sir. Those who are not out on patrol. There was a more sheltered area for that number. But we've sentries out."
"Sentries? Here?"
"The American is somewhere about, sir. And we do not know just where he is. This is a big country."
It was cold, but one of his men had found a ground sheet and some blankets in an incompletely destroyed truck. Colonel Rukovsky found himself liking the campfire and said as much.
Suvarov said, "Yes, sir. It is pleasant." Yet he did not think so at all. How had he ever got into this, anyway? If he could not be in Tokyo or Paris, why not Moscow?
He drank some of the tea the guard had prepared and put the pot back beside the fire. The Colonel was falling asleep, so Suvarov drew his blanket around him and huddled closer to the fire.
He had been asleep for some time, he supposed, when he opened his eyes and saw the man sitting across the fire from him.
"Good morning, Lieutenant. Have you slept long?"
Colonel Rukovsky opened his eyes and sat up. The man across the fire was dressed in furs, goatskins he believed, and he had an AK-47 across his knees. His right hand held the gun. His left a cup of tea.
"I hope you don't mind, Colonel. Your tea is excellent."
The man had two braids of hair falling down on his chest. He had a lean, dark face and startling gray eyes. Perhaps it was only that they looked startling from such a dark face.
"You are the American?"
"Major Joseph Makatozi, at your service." The American smiled. "I have a hard time remembering that. I am afraid I've reverted to what my people once were."
"You will be captured, you know? My men are all about."
"Lying about, you should say, Colonel. I am afraid I had to tie them up. We mustn't leave them too long, or they'll freeze."
"Have you come to give yourself up?"
The American laughed. "When I am in command? Of course not. To be frank, I am just debating what use I might have for you and the lieutenant, but sadly enough I find you'd be more of a trouble than of any value.
"No, I just dropped in for a cup of tea. I shall be leaving soon. To tell you the truth I was getting a bit tired of talking to myself." He glanced over at Suvarov. "What has been happening?"
Suvarov hesitated, and Rukovsky said, "Tell him if you wish. We will have him soon, anyway. By the way, Major, how did you get here?"
"You mean tonight? Why, I just walked in. Your men were so busy talking among themselves--"
He shook his head. "You need Siberians, Colonel. These young men are mostly town boys. I was tempted to gather all their weapons just for the joke of it."
He turned to Suvarov. "You were saying?"
"I do not know what there is that you would like to know. The search for you has been quite general. Comrade Shepilov has gathered a bunch of trappers to come down on you from the north. He is a KGB officer. There have been a few arrests.
"The bodies of the helicopter pilot and his companions have been found. Also the KGB man who was found dead in his car."
Joe Mack finished his tea and came suddenly to his feet. "I would take my men and go home. Colonel, if I were you. They are not suited to the mountains, and they will suffer. You will lose men and equipment, much more than I am worth to you or to the Soviet Union."
The AK-47 was ready in his hands. He took a step back toward the outer darkness. "Along the way," he said, "I have encountered a few civilians. None of them helped me in any way, but I'd not want them hurt because of me. That was the reason for my question."
"I know of nothing of the sort except for that village where it was said you lived for a time among some rascals who had taken to the woods."
"And that village?"
"They were gone when searchers returned. All gone, where we do not know."
At the very edge of the light, Joe Mack dropped to one knee and took up a package of emergency rations. "You will forgive me, of course? The supply system in the mountains is inadequate, to say the least."
One moment he was there, and then he was gone, like a ghost in the night.
Rukovsky came to his feet with a bound, and drawing the pistol he had in his scabbard he fired in the direction the American had gone. Fired, and swore.
"Lieutenant! Find those men and cut them loose! I want an all-out search. Now!"
Now, Suvarov thought, when it is too late. Why had he not drawn that pistol when the American was in sight?
For that matter, why hadn't he drawn his?