el.angeleyes-第32部分

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hi　band　for　the　evening　but　only　ten　to　buy　a　sicario　for　a　hit？〃　Russell　was　talking　about　the　local　teenage　assassins。　〃That　hellhole　has　the　highest　murder　rate　of　any　city　not　at　war。〃
　〃Medellin　is　at　war；〃　Tori　said。　She　turned　to　him。　〃Look；　Russ；　Japanese　or　no　Japanese；　down　to　bare　bones　it's　a　cocaine　pipeline　we're　after；　so　we've　got　to　go　right　to　the　source。〃
　〃Yeah；〃　Russell　said；　taking　a　last　look　at　Washington。　He　was　already　feeling　nostalgic　for　his　fortable　surroundings；　his　daily　routine。　〃Right　down　the　barrel　of　a　semiautomatic。〃
　Medellin　was　in　the　west…central　area　of　Colombia；　not　far　from　the　Pacific　Ocean。　It　was　nestled　into　a　deep　valley　within　the　lush　pined　ridges　of　the　Andes。　The　727　was　obliged　to　circle　for　what　seemed　an　eternity　as　it　came　closer　and　closer　to　the　tops　of　those　formidable　peaks　and　then；　breathtakingly；　dropped　below　them。
　Before　landing；　Tori　and　Russell　had　a　good　look　at　the　scenery；　as　sun…drenched　and　gorgeous　as　anything　out　of　a　travel　agent's　brochure。　They　saw　the　spectacular　terraced　orchid　farms；　whose　product　was　Machine…Gun　City's　other　export。
　They　waited　on　the　runway　while　the　flight　crew　shut　down　the　engines。　Tori　went　forward　to　speak　to　the　pilot。　Everyone　on　board　was　a　trained　Mall　operative。
　Fifteen　minutes　went　by；　Russell　began　to　chafe。　He　got　up；　began　to　walk　around　the　cabin。　〃Let's　for　God's　sake　get　out　of　here；〃　he　finally　said。
　Tori　said；　〃You　don't　want　to　go　into　the　terminal。　The　sicarios　who　hang　out　there　will　spot　your　gringo　face　instantly；　and　attach　themselves　like　leeches。〃
　〃So　what　are　we　going　to　do？〃
　〃For　the　moment；　we're　going　to　do　nothing；〃　Tori　said；　pointing　out　the　window。
　Russell　bent　over；　saw　two　uniformed　paisas…natives…striding　officiously　across　the　tarmac。　They　clip…clopped　smartly　up　the　rolling　stairway；　entered　the　cabin。
　〃Let　me　have　your　passport；〃　she　said　to　Russell；　and　he　handed　it　over。
　Tori　went　to　meet　the　paisas；　and　Russell　could　hear　her　softly　spoken　Spanish　mingling　with　theirs。　She　did　not　sound　like　a　gringo…he　knew　he　did；　even　though　he　was　fluent　in　Spanish；　as　well　as　several　other　languages。　Tori　had　a　peculiar　facility　for　idiom　and　nuance　that　was　beyond　him。　She　spoke　like　a　native　wherever　she　went。
　Russell　saw　packets　of　bills…U。S。　currency…pass　from　Tori　to　the　uniformed　paisas。　She　handed　them　a　stack　of　passports；　hers；　Russell's；　those　of　the　flight　crew。　All　were　stamped。　A　moment　later　they　had　left；　without　even　having　glanced　Russell's　way。
　Tori　nodded　to　him；　and　they　went　down　the　moving　stairs。　The　uniformed　paisas　had　already　disappeared。　Russell　sucked　in　the　air；　clean　and　crisp；　deliciously　scented；　and　without　any　of　the　usual　oppressive　humidity　found　in　the　cities　at　a　lower　altitude。
　Tori　had　a　satchel　of　parachute　cloth　with　her。　While　they　stood　there　in　the　shadow　of　the　jet；　the　flight　crew　was　already　in　the　process　of　refueling；　going　through　the　myriad　maintenance　checks　necessary　between　flights。
　A　blue　four…door　Renault　drew　up。　She　had　asked　for　it；　because　it　had　a　larger　engine　and　was　heavier　than　either　the　Mazda　or　the　Toyota　that　were　available。　〃Are　you　armed？〃　Tori　asked。
　Russell　shook　his　head。
　Tori　said；　〃Go　back　into　the　plane　and　requisition　something　from　the　pilot。　He's　also　an　armorer。〃　She　climbed　into　the　backseat　of　the　car。
　Russell　did　as　she　suggested；　but　he　was　annoyed。　He　hadn't　taken　a　good　look　at　the　pilot；　he'd　needed　her　to　tell　him　who　his　men　were。　He　was　beginning　to　regret　his　acquiescence　to　this　madness。　But　what　choice　had　he　been　given？　None；　he　told　himself　glumly。　Bernard　had　seen　neatly　to　that。
　Tori　was　already　in　the　back　of　the　Renault　when　he　returned；　huddling　with　the　driver　in　front。　As　soon　as　he　sat　down　beside　her；　the　Renault　took　off。　The　driver；　a　fit…looking　man　with　silver　hair　and　mustache；　wore　wraparound　dark　glasses；　an　open…weave　cotton　shirt；　and　linen　trousers。
　〃Wele　to　Metra…lin；　Senor　Slade；〃　Estilo　said。　He　was　using　the　only　slightly　tongue…in…cheek　slang　that　had　given　Me…dellin　its　apocalyptic　nickname；　Machine…Gun　City。
　Russell　turned　to　Tori。　''Why　not　use　a　helicopter？''　he　asked　her。
　〃The　last　people　who　tried　that；〃　Tori　said；　〃were　turned　to　cinders　by　sicario　hijackers。〃　She　shrugged。　〃It's　the　gringo　alternative。　The　natives…the　paisas…　go　the　way　we　will　go。〃
　The　Renault　was　going　very　fast；　bouncing　along　a　scarifying　switchback　road　that　snaked　through　the　forested　mountains。　Russell　sneaked　a　look　at　the　speedometer。　Considering　the　terrain；　he　thought　they　were　traveling　at　least　twenty　mph　too　fast。　He　was　about　to　say　so　when　Estilo　said　over　his　shoulder；　〃We're　being　followed。〃
　Russell　turned　so　fast　his　neck　cracked。　Out　the　rear　window　he　could　see　a　pair　of　chrome　and　black　motorcycles　gaining　on　them。　〃Jesus；〃　he　breathed；　〃so　much　for　your　security　precautions。〃　He　began　to　recheck　the　pistol　the　pilot　had　given　him。　It　was　a　large　caliber　weapon；　deadly　at　medium　range；　absolutely　devastating　closer　in。
　''Try　to　lose　them；''　Tori　said　to　Estilo；　and　the　Renault　rocketed　forward；　hurtling　this　way　and　that　down　the　winding　road；　tires　screaming　in　protest。　The　world　to　either　side　had　bee　a　green　blur；　and　the　lushly　forested　mountainsides　ahead　were　ing　at　them　far　too　fast。　In　desperation；　Russell　turned　to　the　rear　window。　The　motorcycles；　lagging　for　a　moment；　were　already　gaining　back　the　ground　they　had　lost。
　〃We'll　never　outrun　them；〃　Russell　observed。
　〃We　weren't　meant　to；〃　Tori　said　to　him。　She　turned　her　attention　to　the　driver。　〃Slow　down；　Estilo；〃　he　heard　her　say。　And　then；　〃You　know　what　to　do。〃　Estilo　reached　down　between　his　legs。
　〃Are　you　insane？''　Russell　stared　at　Tori　as　she　unzipped　her　satchel。　〃These　sicarios　will　cut　us　to　ribbons。〃
　The　motorcycles　roared　up　beside　the　Renault；　and　now　Russell　could　see　that　each　held　two　sicarios；　bristling　with　armament。　None　of　them　looked　over　seventeen。　There　were　schools　in　the　mountains　surrounding　Medellin　that　turned　out　scores　of　these　fearless；　punk　killers；　high　on　cocaine　and　the　peculiar；　frightening　power　of　the　killing　lust。　Russell　caught　a　glimpse　of　a　pair　of　sawed…off　shotguns　beginning　to　swing　down；　two　MAC…10　machine　pistols　being　leveled　in　the　direction　of　the　Renault。
　Explosions　from　the　shotguns。　At　that　instant　Estilo　stepped　hard　on　the　brakes　and；　its　rear　wheels　sluing　back　and　forth；　the　Renault　screeched　to　a　halt。　While　it　was　still　rocking　on　its　shocks。　Tori　had　opened　her　curbside　door　and；　using　it　as　a　shield；　whipped　her　arms　up　in　the　classic　marksman's　pose。
　The　motorcycles　had　meanwhile　overshot　their　prey　and　were　obliged　to　make　sharp　U…turns。　This　maneuver　meant　that　the　sicarios　riding　shotgun　could　neither　aim　nor　shoot　until　the　motorcycles　had　swung　around　and　were　heading　back　toward　the　stopped　Renault。　They　fired。
　Tori　was　holding　some　kind　of　long…barreled　pistol　that　Russell　was　unfamiliar　with。　She　squeezed　off　two　shots；　and　the　sicarios　in　the　leading　motorcycle　were　slammed　backward　off　the　bike。　It　roared　erratically；　running　off　the　road　and　smashing　into　the　underbrush。　A　gush　of　oily　smoke　rose　into　the　flower…scented　air。
　The　second　motorcycle　came　on。
　Russell　could　see　that　their　driver；　the　man　Tori　had　called　Estilo；　was　either　unarmed　or　was　making　no　attempt　to　draw　his　weapon。　Perhaps　he　had　frozen。　Russell　was　in　no　such　position。　He　might　be　a　desk　jockey；　as　Tori　had　said；　but　he　got　only　firsts　on　the　target　range；　and　he　worked　out　in　the　unarmed　bat　dojo　three　times　a　week。
　He　raised　his　pistol；　went　to　lean　out　his　window。　But　Estilo　whirled　in　the　front　seat　and；　putting　his　hand　over　the　hammer　of　the　pistol；　pushed　it　down　out　of　sight。　〃Orders；〃　he　said　laconically。
　〃But　the　sicarios…〃
　〃Paciencia；〃　he　said。　〃Wait　and　see。〃
　Tori　broke　from　the　cover　of　the　Renault　and；　slamming　her　door　behind　her；　took　off　down　the　verge　of　the　road；　back　the　way　they　had　e。
　〃What？〃　Russell　twisted　in　his　seat。　〃Tori；　where　the　hell　d'you…〃　He　tried　to　get　the　pistol　out　of　Estilo's　grip；　but　failed。
He　heard　the　blast　of　a　shotgun　firing。