by Duncan Kyle
A couple of minutes later, I flicked the switch and spoke into it. `Marasov,' I said. Nothing happened. I went close to the edge, raising the aerial so that it projected - over into space. I repeated Marasov's name several times. Perhaps the damned thing had been smashed when the Russian fell?
Then a voice replied in Russian. I said, `Marasov, Marasov,' and waited. There was a little hiss of static.
`This is Marasov.'
I said, 'This is Sellers. I have a copy transparency that Anderson made.'
`Then an exchange can be arranged.'
`You have two prisoners. Alison Hay and a man called Newton.'
A pause, then, 'That is true. Climb down the rope, Mister. Sellers. Give it to us. I undertake to land the two people you name on one of the Shetland islands.'
I said, 'Get stuffed.'
Ìt is a promise.'
`Made to break,' I said. 'I have a better idea.'
Ìf the transparency reaches the Americans,' Marasov said grimly, 'no deal is possible.'
Ìt won't. Now listen. I will deliver this to you after you have put Miss Hay and Mr Newton on to Anderson's boat. When I see they are safely aboard and that the boat is well under way, you get the transparency.'
The walkie-talkie crackled. Marasov said, 'You do not trust me, I do not trust you. Why should I?'
`Because,' I said, 'I will offer myself as hostage.'
`How?'
I hesitated, then committed myself. 'I will climb a few feet down the rope . . . damn!' I had to stop talking as the helicopter suddenly roared low over the island. I waited for it to go away and started to talk again. 'I will climb a few feet down the rope. The transparency remains here on top. It's in a bottle. Quite safe now. I shall have a long string tied to the bottle. When I see Miss Hay and Newton are , aboard Anderson's boat, I'll pull the bottle over the edge and let it fall. It's polythene. It won't break. You can pick it up.'
There was silence for a moment; comparative silence. The helicopter still clattered somewhere near, though for the moment I couldn't see it.
In my ear Marasov's voice said, 'If I transfer them, what is to stop you breaking your word and leaving the bottle there? The helicopter, after all, is waiting.'
The helicopter was suddenly doing more than waiting. It must have been lurking near sea level, because abruptly it again tore up over the cliff edge and passed low over the Holm top. I swung round to watch it go, trying to discover
what Elliot was up to. For some reason tear gas came into my mind : tear gas, or that other stuff – Mace – they use to stun people in riots. Would Elliot have things like that available up here in the Shetlands? I pictured myself staggering round up there blinded and helpless. As the roar died, I said quickly, 'I'll be ten feet down the cliff, hanging on the rope. You can shoot me very easily, if I don't keep my word.'
I waited tensely for his answer. I'd offered him all I had to offer . . Marasov's answer was hesitant. 'How can I trust you?'
Ìf I don't keep my promise, you kill me. It's that simple.'
Still he hesitated. There was only one thing to do. I stood up, showed myself at the cliff edge, and said, `Look at me now. Look through the sights of a rifle. I'll come ten feet down the cliff. Could you miss?'
Below me on the lighted deck of the trawler I could see men looking up. 'Well, could you?'
His voice crackled in my ear. 'I accept. I warn you, we shall not miss.'
I looked down at the sea far below and swallowed. I'd proposed, but I was appalled by what I'd proposed. My guts felt slithery at the thought of venturing again into the void. And the feeling of revulsion grew worse with every second I stood there. I said, 'Where I climbed before, at the south end. Understand?'
Ì understand.' I .could pick out Marasov now, walkie-talkie in hand, head bent back as he looked up at me. A second later the bow of the big fishing boat began to come round and water foamed beneath her stem. I stepped back, picked up the water bottle, and tied the string I'd got from Anderson's hide firmly round the bottle neck. Then I crossed the Holm, using my torch to find my discarded climbing belt, and buckled it on. Finally, I hooked the strap of the walkie-talkie round my neck. I was ready, possibly able, very far from willing.
I had to force myself to sit on the edge of the cliff, force myself to dangle my legs into space until I'd fitted my feet
into the stirrups and adjusted the Jumar clips. This was the moment. I placed the precious water bottle a couple of feet back from the edge in case of accident, lowered the• suing over, then turned my body and let myself slide carefully downward until the stirrups took the strain. Lowering the bottom clip, I felt my foot move down. The edge now pressed against my chest. Next the upper clip. Then the lower again. My eyes were level with the bottle. Beside me the slender thread of string dangled limply. I went down slowly, glancing every few seconds at the entrance to the channel, where Marasov's boat would appear at any moment. I wondered how he would have contacted Anderson. Well, it was his problem and there was always Morse. Anderson would be bound to know Morse!
Yes, there it was! Deck lights on, the big fishing boat came nosing cautiously in. I lowered myself two more steps down the rope and waited.
There came a sudden unearthly roar — magnified •a dozen times as the sound smashed back and forth between the cliffs — and Elliot's helicopter roared over. Christ, what was he doing? He was up to something; must have some idea, some plan, but I couldn't begin to imagine what it was! Hanging one-handed on the rope, I fumbled for the walkie-talkie hand-set, and glanced down. The Russian fishing boat was almost directly beneath me. When I released the bottle, it would probably fall straight on to the deck. Marasov?'
Ì'm ready.'
I said, 'Where are they? I want to see them.'
`Look down.'
I looked. Three figures stood in a little group at the stern. 'Let me speak to her.'
I saw him hand over the walkie-talkie. There was a brief pause, then a voice came. I'd have known it anywhere. Relief thudded through me: Alsa said uncertainly, 'John?'
Ìs that Newton with you?'
Another pause, then, 'Yes, John, it is.'
I looked back towards the entrance. Anderson's Shetland model was entering the narrow channel, coming in towards the Russian boat's stern.
let them go aboard,' I said into the handset.
`John. Be careful.'
Ì'll be careful,' I said. 'I have to be. Let me talk to Marasov.'
`They're going now, Sellers,' Marasov said, 'Can you see them?'
I could see very clearly. I saw the man go first: Newton, who'd nearly paid for his love of birds with his life. Then Alsa. With Anderson's good arm around her, she turned at the rail and waved up to me.'
In my ear, Marasov's voice boomed suddenly. `They're on the boat. Did you see?'
`Now we wait,' I told him, 'until they're' out of sight.'
He said, warningly, 'There are three men with automatic rifles here, Sellers. They are ready to fire if you make the slightest movement.'
My throat was dry, my stomach knotting with anxiety as I hung there, swaying a little on the rope, watching as Anderson's boat moved slowly, stem first, back out of the channel. I could see the three figures in the stern as she came about, now under forward power, and began to pick up speed.
My mind raced. Had I allowed enough time? When I let the bottle fall, would Marasov have time to retrieve it, get out of the channel and still catch them before they reached Lerwick? I'd have to wait as long as I dared.
By now the boat was gone. Half a minute passed then Marasov said, 'Now. It is time.'
I didn't reply.
`Do you hear me, Sellers?'
Ì hear you.'
Ì shall count to ten,' he said slowly. 'If you have not then kept your promise, my men will open fire.'
I gritted my teeth and argued. 'It won't help you. I'm not holding the string. It's hanging beside me. The bottle would stay up here. We wait until they're well clear. Five minutes at le
ast.'
I half expected to be shot at that moment, but nothing happened. I hung in space against that awful cliff, sweating and waiting as I counted five minutes slowly away. Marasov's voice came with startling suddenness. 'Now, Sellers! Now or I call up another'
vessel to intercept them.'
`How do I know you haven't?'
`You don't know. But I assure you that I will. I will order them killed, you know that?'
This was it then. Another Russian boat might already be intercepting Anderson; God knows they had enough of them in Lerwick! But I'd reached the end, played my weak hand for all it would stand. I couldn't do more.
Marasov said, 'I am only interested in the transparency. Only that. Remember it. If you let the bottle fall now, they will be safe.'
I took a deep breath of doubt. But now I had to do it. I said, 'Coming now. Watch out for it!'
I reached out my hand to the thin, dangling string, raised my eyes to the cliff edge and pulled gently. It was tight, perhaps lodged against some tiny obstruction. I pulled harder .
. . and watched in horror as the slack string came limply over the edge. There was no bottle on the end!
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Marasov's voice rasped,. 'What's wrong, Sellers?'
`No bottle,' I said. 'There's no –' I was going to die. Now. This moment. Rifles were aimed at me. I said, 'Please, let me – '
Brilliant light suddenly flooded the chasm below me, a bright, white ball of light. I was gaping down, waiting for the bullet, but already blinded by the flaring brilliance, when a voice above 'me shouted, 'Quick, Sellers! Get up here, quick ! ' Elliot's voice!
But I couldn't go quickly. Climbing with Jumars was desperately slow. I felt the rope move in my hands and clung to it, as the cliff face scraped against my knuckles. I heard the sharp crackle of rifle fire from below, heard bullets smack against rock. Somehow I wasn't hit, and I couldn't understand why. I couldn't see at all. That suddenly exploding, flaring light had destroyed my vision totally. I simply hung there, helplessly, aware that I was being dragged slowly upward, knowing Elliot must be doing it, but with no idea what had caused the light, or why I hadn't been hit.
`You're at the edge now.' Elliot's voice was little more than a series of straining grunts. '
Grab it and climb over!'
Ì'm blind,' I yelled. 'I can't see!'
`Christ, put your hands out. Help me pull . .
I felt forward at the cliff face, slid my hands up and felt the edge, where cold rock turned into grass, reached up, found a grip, and pulled. The edge was level with my chest.
`Christ, make it fast!' Elliot grated.
I pulled desperately, hands now nearly at waist level. `Fall forward, Sellers, you're okay!'
But I didn't fall forward. I was smashed forward, by a rifle bullet which, although I didn't know it at that instant, blasted half the flesh of my 'shoulder away. All I knew then was that my shoulder was suddenly numb, that my face was in wet grass. I tried to crawl, but my arm wouldn't support me. I wriggled on my stomach, and rolled, until I felt grass instead of space beneath my feet.
Shock, it must have been. Exhaustion. The burning redness in my eyes was darkening, then dying .. .
I woke in the helicopter and looked up at a dim shape very near. Somebody spoke, and I assumed the shape must be a head. 'Don't worry. Keep still. You'll be at the hospital in a few minutes.'
I nodded, hoping it was true. My shoulder felt as though it was being cremated. If the pain went on much longer I'd . . .
But it didn't. I blacked out again and awoke much later, blinking at the daylight. I looked round me and tried to move, but one arm was immobile. I was in a strange room, too. I was making a habit of awakening in strange rooms. This room had a nurse in it. I must have grunted or something, because she turned and gave me one of those reassuring nurse-type smiles. She said, `Before you ask, you're in Aberdeen General Hospital.'
I blinked. 'How?'
À combination of things. Morphia and a helicopter. You're all right, don't worry.'
Stupidity was rolling away. As far, at any rate, as it was ever likely to roll. Realization came back too. I sat up awkwardly, swore at the sudden pain, and said 'Alsa What happened?'
The nurse said, 'Everybody's all right. I was told to tell you that.' She laughed gaily. 'I don't know who's all right, but they are, it seems.'
I sank back. 'Thank God!'
She came over. She actually mopped my brow. I'd heard of it so many times, but this was the first time it had actually happened to me. It felt wonderfully soothing.
`Now,' she murmured. 'A little more sleepytime.'
I woke again and it was dark outside. My shoulder was throbbing. Another nurse was on duty. I asked her, 'How am I?'
She was the brisk kind. 'You're fine,' she said. 'Damaged shoulder, that's all. And maybe you're a wee bit run down.' She advanced on me with a syringe. Next day I learned that I was officially ambulant, but all the same I didn't feel like walking. The brisk nurse would probably have made me, but she wasn't on duty. It was the angelic one who fed me, bathed me and finally told me she had a nice surprise waiting. She pushed me in a wheelchair down a corridor, opened a door, said, 'There's your friend,' and left discreetly.
The friend was Elliot. He lay propped up in bed, wearing
a weak smile that sat awkwardly across his lantern jaw. He was also wearing a lot of bandages on his chest and a bottle of plasma was draining into him. I said, 'What happened?'
Ì got shot. Just like you. Two ribs busted. Some loss of blood. Gonna be okay.'
Ì'm glad you're all right,' I said with perfect sincerity. Tut what happened before that? I saw a ball of fire come from somewhere.'
Elliot said weakly, 'Not that I'd like to try it again. There was a ledge on the north end of that damn rock, maybe ten feet wide, just below the top. I got the helicopter to drop me there.'
Ànd then?'
Ì looked for you. You weren't visible, but there was only one way you could get down. When I found the rope, I found the bottle and cut the string .. • . I could hear you talking.'
He grinned, but the grin was tenuous with pain. His voice was noticeably weaker when he spoke again.
`What I did, I brought a flare from the chopper. That was the ball of fire. Nobody can aim a rifle through a flare.'
`They did,' I said. 'They hit us both.'
`Lucky shooting. Unlucky, I guess.' He was very weak; his wound was far more severe than he'd admitted.
I looked at him, trying to find words. Finally I said, 'You were nearly killed. Willingham was killed. I did everything I could to keep that transparency away from you. You could just have taken it and left me hanging there.'
He no longer had the strength to grin, but he smiled a little. It was very weak, but very real and I suddenly realized I had a high regard for Elliot. He said, 'I was . . . tempted. I really was. Then I got . . . to thinking. You know .. . Sellers . . I could barely hear him now, `. . I thought . . . that a dope like you . .• . who just wanted . . . to get your girl back .
. . is what it's . . . all about.' He was almost asleep as he finished. I said, 'She's Anderson's girl, but I suppose the principle's‘ sound. Go to sleep. I'll see you later. And thanks.'
I was trying to turn the wheelchair away, one-handed, not wanting to disturb him by shouting for the nurse. Then, from somewhere he found the strength to rouse himself a little.
`Sellers ..
`Later. Go to sleep.'
Ànderson was . . . here . . Elhoes voice was only a murmur. 'Message . . . for you . . Òh, I wasn't sure whether or not Elliot was now talking, in his sleep. His eyes were closed and the muscles of his face were slack.
`Yea . . . about gen . . . genetics.'
`Genetics?' He must be rambling.
`Told me . . . second cousins . . . shouldn't . .. they shouldn't . . . marry.'
I stared at him. 'Second cousins?' My heart was thudding suddenly in my chest. His eyes came ope
n but he didn't speak. He seemed to be listening. I listened too. Footsteps were coming down the corridor. And then the door opened and things became confused, because Alsa came in and both of us ignored poor old Elliot until the confusion had eased and Alsa was wheeling my chair softly to the door. I turned my head to look at him.
His eyes were still open. Then one of them closed. Just one. And he whispered, 'Dopes like you ..
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