cc.goldenbuddha-第9部分

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e　receiver。　
　〃Go　to　full　speed　and　pass　the　ship　ahead！〃　
　
　Like　a　small　powerboat　with　big　engines　and　a　heavy　hand　on　the　throttles；　the　Oregon　dug　her　stern　into　the　forbidding　water　and　lifted　her　bows　clear　of　the　waves　as　her　thrusters　erupted　in　a　cloud　of　froth；　creating　a　vast　crater　in　her　wake。　She　leaped　down　the　channel　and　swept　past　the　Chinese　cargo　ship　less　than　twenty　feet　away；　as　if　she　were　stopped　dead　in　the　water。　The　Chinese　sailors　could　be　seen　staring　in　stunned　disbelief。　Faster　and　faster　with　each　passing　second　she　raced　through　the　night。　Speed　was　the　Oregon's　crowning　achievement；　the　thoroughbred　heart　of　the　vessel。　Forty　knots；　then　fifty。　By　the　time　she　passed　Morro　Castle　at　the　entrance　to　Santiago；　she　was　making　nearly　sixty…two　knots。　No　ship　in　the　world　that　size　could　match　her　speed。　
　The　beacon　lights　mounted　high　on　the　bluffs　were　soon　little　more　than　blinking　specks　on　a　black　horizon。　
　THE　ALARM　SPREAD　quickly　onshore　that　a　ship　was　making　an　unauthorized　departurebut　the　radar　and　fire　control　operators　did　not　unleash　their　shore…to…surface　missiles。　Their　officers　could　not　believe　that　such　a　large　ship　was　moving　at　such　an　incredible　rate　of　speed。　They　assumed　their　radar　systems　were　malfunctioning；　and　they　were　reluctant　to　unleash　missiles　that　they　did　not　think　could　lock　on　to　such　an　inconceivable　target。　
　Not　until　the　Oregon　was　twenty　miles　out　to　sea　did　a　general　in　Cuban　security　put　two　and　two　together　and　deduce　that　the　sudden　departure　of　the　ship　and　the　escape　of　the　Santa　Ursula　prisoners　were　somehow　tied　together。　He　ordered　missiles　fired　at　the　fleeing　ship；　but　by　the　time　the　word　filtered　down　through　the　sluggish　mand；　the　Oregon　was　out　of　acceptable　range。　
　He　then　ordered　jets　from　the　Cuban　air　force　to　intercept　and　sink　the　mystery　ship　before　it　reached　the　protection　of　a　United　States　Coast　Guard　cutter。　It　could　not　possibly　escape；　he　thought；　as　he　sat　back；　lit　a　cigar　and　contentedly　puffed　a　cloud　of　blue　smoke　toward　the　ceiling。　Seventy　miles　away；　two　geriatric　MiGs　were　sent　aloft　and　set　a　course　toward　the　Oregon　as　directed　by　Cuban　radar。　
　
　
　CABRILLO　DIDN'T　NEED　to　study　a　chart　to　see　that　sailing　around　the　tip　of　Cuba　from　Santiago　through　the　Windward　Passage　and　then　northwest　to　Miami　was　little　more　than　a　suicide　run。　For　nearly　six　hundred　miles；　the　Oregon　would　be　less　than　fifty　miles　from　the　Cuban　coast；　a　voyage　in　a　shooting　gallery。　His　safest　option　was　to　set　a　course　southwest　around　the　southern　tip　of　Haiti　and　then　almost　due　west　to　Puerto　Rico；　which　was　a　territory　under　the　U。S。　flag。　There　he　could　unload　his　passengers；　where　they　would　be　safe　and　cared　for　at　proper　medical　facilities　before　being　flown　to　Florida。　
　〃Two　unidentified　aircraft　closing；〃　announced　Linda。　
　〃I　have　them；〃　Murphy　announced；　hunched　over　a　console　with　enhanced　radar　screens　and　an　array　of　knobs　and　switches。　
　〃Can　you　identify？〃　asked　Linda。　
　〃puter　reads　them　as　a　pair　of　MiG…27s。〃　
　〃How　far　out？〃　Cabrillo　probed。　
　〃Sixty　miles　and　closing；〃　Murphy　answered。　〃Poor　beggars　don't　know　what　they're　in　for。〃　
　Cabrillo　turned　to　his　munications　expert；　Hali　Kasim。　〃Try　and　raise　them　in　Spanish。　Warn　them　we　have　surface…to…air　missiles　on　board　and　will　knock　them　out　of　the　sky　if　they　show　any　sign　of　hostility。〃　
　Kasim　didn't　have　to　speak　Spanish　to　deliver　the　warning。　He　merely　ordered　the　puter　to　translate　his　message　over　his　radio；　which　was　tuned　to　twenty　different　frequencies。　
　After　a　couple　of　minutes　he　shook　his　head。　〃They　are　receiving；　but　not　responding。〃　
　〃They　think　we're　bluffing；〃　said　Linda。　
　〃Keep　trying。〃　Then　to　Murphy：　〃What's　the　range　of　their　missiles？〃　
　〃According　to　specs；　they're　carrying　short…range　rockets　with　a　range　of　ten　miles。〃　
　Cabrillo　looked　solemn。　〃If　they　don't　break　off　within　thirty　miles；　take　them　out。　Better　yet；　launch　one　of　ours。　Then　manually　guide　it　for　a　close　flyby。〃　
　Murphy　made　the　necessary　calculations　and　pressed　a　red　button。　〃Missile　on　its　way。〃　
　An　audible　swoosh　swept　the　mand　center　as　a　rocket　lifted　from　an　opening　in　the　foredeck　and　swept　into　the　sky。　They　all　watched　on　the　monitors　as　it　raced　to　the　northwest　and　soon　disappeared。　
　〃Four　minutes　to　flyby；〃　said　Murphy。　
　Every　eye　turned　to　the　big　clock　above　the　window。　No　one　spoke；　all　waiting　in　anticipation。　Time　dragged　as　the　second　hand　on　the　clock　seemed　to　take　forever　to　make　a　sweep。　Finally；　Murphy　spoke　mechanically。　〃Missile　passed　two　hundred　yards　over　and　between　the　hostiles。〃　
　〃Did　they　get　the　message？〃　asked　Cabrillo；　a　slight　tone　of　apprehension　in　his　voice。　
　There　was　a　long　pause；　and　then；　〃They're　turning　for　home；〃　Murphy　reported　happily。　〃Two　Cubans　who　are　very　lucky　men　indeed。〃　
　〃Also　smart　enough　to　recognize　a　no…win　situation。〃　
　〃Indeed；〃　Linda　said　with　a　broad　smile。　
　〃No　blood　on　our　hands　this　day；〃　Cabrillo　said　with　an　obvious　sigh　of　relief。　He　leaned　over　in　his　chair　and　spoke　to　the　puter。　〃Slow　to　cruise　speed。〃　
　The　clandestine　operation　was　almost　plete；　the　contract　fulfilled。　The　Oregon　and　her　crew　of　executives　did　not　consider　themselves　lucky。　Their　achievement　had　e　from　a　bination　of　special　skills；　expertise；　intelligence　and　precise　planning。　Now；　except　for　a　technician　to　watch　over　the　mand　center　and　the　navigation　systems；　everyone　could　relax；　some　headed　for　their　staterooms　for　well　deserved　sleep；　while　others　congregated　in　the　ship's　dining　room　to　snack　and　wind　down。　
　Cabrillo　retired　to　his　teak…paneled　cabin　and　removed　a　packet　from　a　safe　under　the　carpet　mounted　in　the　deck。　It　was　their　next　contract。　He　pulled　out　the　contents；　studied　them　for　nearly　an　hour；　and　then　began　planning　the　initial　levels　of　tactics　and　strategy。　
　Two　and　a　half　days　later；　the　Oregon　sailed　into　the　port　of　San　Juan；　Puerto　Rico；　and　discharged　the　Cuban　exiles。　Before　the　sun　set；　the　remarkable　ship　and　its　strange　crew　of　corporate　officials　were　once　again　at　sea　on　a　course　toward　their　next　assignment。　Before　it　was　through；　they　would　steal　a　priceless　artifact；　return　a　divine　leader　to　power　and　free　a　nation。　But　when　the　Oregon　left　port；　Cabrillo　was　not　on　board。　He　was　winging　his　way　east　against　a　rising　sun。　
　
　THE　BURGUNDY　FALCON　2000EX　left　Heathrow　at　just　after　six　in　the　morning；　arriving　in　Geneva　around　half　past　nine　Swiss　time。　The　jet　aircraft　cruised　at　Mach　。80　with　a　4；650…mile　range；　it　cost　24　million。　Winston　Spenser　was　its　sole　occupant。　
　After　arriving　at　Geneva　International　Airport　in　Cointrin；　Spenser　was　met　by　a　chauffeured　Rolls…Royce　that　delivered　him　to　the　hotel。　There；　he　was　immediately　taken　to　a　suite　without　having　to　register。　Once　in　his　room；　Spenser　took　a　few　minutes　to　freshen　up。　Standing　in　front　of　the　beveled…edge　mirror；　he　stared　at　his　image。　Spenser's　nose　was　long　and　patrician；　his　eyes　pale　blue　and　distant　and　his　skin　in　need　of　a　tan。　Neither　his　cheeks　nor　his　chin　were　very　defined。　Truth　be　told；　his　image　always　appeared　to　be　slightly　out　of　focus；　as　if　lacking　character。　His　was　not　the　face　of　a　man　others　would　follow。　It　was　the　face　of　a　high…priced　minion。　
　When　he　finished　his　examination；　he　placed　his　expensive　cologne　back　in　a　Burberry　toiletry　bag；　then　left　the　room　to　get　a　midmorning　meal。　The　art　auction　he　was　in　Geneva　for　was　due　to　start　soon。　
　WILL　MR。　SPENSER　require　anything　else？〃　the　waiter　asked。　Spenser　stared　for　a　moment　at　the　remains　of　his　meal　and　said；　〃No；　I　think　that　will　be　all。〃　
　The　waiter　nodded；　removed　the　plates；　then　took　a　brush　from　his　apron　and　whisked　up　the　few　crumbs　on　the　table。　Then　he　silently　retreated。　No　bill　was　presented；　no　money　changed　hands。　The　cost　of　the　breakfast　and　the　gratuity　would　appear　on　the　room　charge；　which　Spenser　would　never　see。　
　In　the　far　corner　of　the　dining　room；　Michael　Talbot　stared　toward　Spenser。　Talbot；　an　art　dealer　from　San　Francisco；　had　crossed　paths　with　Spenser　before。　Three　times　in　the　last　year；　the　stodgy　Britisher　had　out