"Smith, Wilbur - The Eye of the Tiger" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)

"Hey, Harry!" Angelo called suddenly, breaking my concentration. "We got
a visitor, man!"

"What is it, Angelo?"

"Big Johnny coming up current." He pointed. "Fish is bleeding, he's
smelt it."

I looked and saw the shark coming. The blunt fin moving up steadily,
drawn by the struggle and smell of blood. He was a big hammerhead, and I
called to Angelo.

"Bridge, Angelo,"and I gave him the wheel.

"Harry, you let that bastard chew my fish and you can kiss your thousand
bucks goodbye," Chuck grunted sweatily at me from the fighting chair,
and I dived into the main cabin.

Dropping to my knees I knocked open the toggles that held down the
engine hatch and I slid it open.

Lying on my belly, I reached up under the decking and grasped the stock
of the FN carbine hanging in its special concealed slings of inner
tubing.

As I came out on to the deck I checked the loading of the rifle, and
pushed the selector on to automatic fire. "Angelo, lay me alongside that
old Johnny."

Hanging over the rail in Wave Dancer's bows, I looked down on to the
shark as Angelo ran over him. He was a hammerhead all right, a big one,
twelve feet from tip to tail, coppery bronze through the clear water.

I aimed carefully between the monstrous eyestalks which flattened and
deformed the shark's head, and I fired a short burst.

The FN roared, the empty brass cases spewed from the weapon and the
water erupted in quick stabbing splashes. The shark shuddered
convulsively as the bullets smashed into his head, shattering the
gristly bone and bursting his tiny brain. He rolled over and began to
sink.

"Thanks, Harry," Chuck gasped, sweating and red-faced in the chair.

"All part of the service," I grinned at him, and went to take the wheel
from Angelo.

At ten minutes to one, Chuck brought the marlin up to the gaff,
punishing him until the great fish came over on his side, the sickle
tail beating feebly, and the long beak opening and shutting