cc.vixen03-第66部分

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looked　into　each　other's　eyes　from　no　more　than　twelve　feet；　trying　to　exchange　thoughts　in　that　brief　instant。　No　word　passed　between　them；　only　a　strange　kind　of　understanding。　Time　seemed　to　pause　and　all　sounds　diminished　into　a　blurred　background。
　Hiram　Lusana　knew　his　fight　to　rise　above　the　filth　of　his　childhood　had　culminated　in　this　time　and　place。　He　had　e　to　realize　he　could　not　be　the　leader　of　a　people　who　would　never　fully　accept　him　as　one　of　their　own。　His　path　became　clear。　He　could　do　far　more　for　the　op…pressed　of　Africa　by　being　a　martyr　to　their　cause。
　Lusana　accepted　the　invitation　of　death。　He　threw　Fergus　a　silent　smile　of　forgiveness　and　then　leaped　toward　the　bulwarks。
　Fergus　pulled　the　trigger　and　sprayed　a　pattern　of　automatic　fire。　The　sudden　impact　of　three　bullets　in　his　side　pitched　Lusana　forward　in　a　shuddered　dance　that　pounded　the　breath　from　his　lungs。　Miraculously；　he　stayed　on　his　feet　and　staggered　drunkenly　on。
　Fergus　fired　again。
　Lusana　fell　to　his　knees；　still　struggling　toward　the　edge　of　the　deck。
　Fergus　watched　in　detached　admiration；　vaguely　wondering　what　drove　the　incongruously　dressed　black　man　to　ignore　at　least　a　dozen　bullets　in　his　body。
　With　brown　eyes　glazed　with　shock；　and　with　a　determination　known　only　to　a　man　who　could　never　quit；　Lusana　crawled　across　the　deck；　holding　the　canvas　sack　against　his　stomach；　leaving　an　ever…widening　trail　of　crimson　behind　him。
　The　bulwarks　were　only　three　feet　away。　He　fought　closer　despite　the　blackness　beginning　to　cloud　his　vision　and　the　blood　streaming　from　the　corners　of　his　mouth。　Summoning　an　inner　strength　born　of　final　desper…ation；　he　threw　the　sack。
　It　hung　on　the　bulwark　for　an　instant　that　seemed　frozen　in　time；　teetered；　and　then　fell　into　the　river。　Lusana's　face　sank　to　the　deck　and　he　passed　the　gate　into　oblivion。
　The　interior　of　the　massive　gun　housing　reeked　of　sweat　and　blood　and　the　pungent　odors　of　powder　and　heated　oil。　Most　of　the　crew　were　still　in　shock；　their　eyes　glazed；　unknowing；　dulled　with　confusion　and　fear；　the　rest　were　lying　amid　the　machinery　in　unnatural　poses；　blood　trick…ling　from　their　ears　and　mouths。　A　charnel　house；　Fawkes　thought；　a　damn　charnel　house。　God；　I'm　no　better　than　the　butchers　who　slaughtered　my　family。
　He　peered　down　the　center　elevator　tube　to　the　magazines　and　saw　Charles　Shaba　hammering　away　with　a　sledge　on　a　shell　cradle　that　had　bee　wedged　ten　feet　below　the　turret　deck。　The　interlock　doors；　designed　to　prevent　accidental　breech　failure　from　municating　ex…plosive　flash　to　the　magazines；　were　jammed　open；　and　to　Fawkes　it　was　like　looking　into　a　bottomless　pit。　Then　the　black　void　seemed　to　fuzz　and　he　suddenly　realized　the　problem。　The　air　was　too　foul　to　breathe。　Those　who　survived　the　concussion　caused　by　the　Satan　missile　were　dropping　from　lack　of　oxygen。
　〃Open　the　outside　hatch！〃　he　roared。　〃Get　some　fresh　air　in　here！〃
　〃She's　buckled；　Captain；〃　a　voice　rasped　on　the　other　side　of　the　turret。　〃Jammed　tight。〃
　〃The　ventilators！　Why　aren't　they　operating？〃
　〃Blown　circuits；〃　another　man　said；　coughing。　〃The　only　air　we've　got　is　what's　ing　up　through　the　magazine　tubes。〃
　In　the　choking　haze　and　gloom　Fawkes　could　barely　make　out　the　form　of　the　man　who　spoke。　〃Find　me　something　to　pry　the　hatch　open。　We've　got　to　make　a　path　for　crossventilation。〃
　He　made　his　way　around　the　bodies　and　over　the　huge　gun　mechanism　to　the　hatch　that　opened　to　the　main　deck。　Looking　at　its　seven…inch…thick　wall　of　hard　steel；　Fawkes　could　well　appreciate　what　he　was　up　against。　The　only　points　in　his　favor　were　the　shattered　locking　prongs　and　the　inch　of　daylight　showing　at　the　top　where　the　hatch　had　been　blown　inward。
　Someone　tapped　his　shoulder　and　he　turned。　It　was　Shaba。
　〃I　heard　you　down　in　the　magazine　tube；　Captain。　I　thought　you　might　need　this。〃　He　handed　Fawkes　a　heavy　steel　bar　four　feet　long　and　two　inches　thick。
　Fawkes　wasted　no　words　of　appreciation。　He　wedged　the　bar　into　the　opening　to　the　outside　and　pulled。　His　face　flushed　with　the　effort　and　his　great　arms　trembled；　but　the　hatch　would　not　budge。
　The　obstinacy　of　the　hatch　came　as　no　surprise　to　Fawkes。　It　was　an　age…old　Scottish　adage　that　nothing　fell　to　a　man's　lot　on　the　first　try。　He　closed　his　eyes　and　sucked　in　great　breaths；　hyperventilating。　Every　cell　in　his　body　focused　on　kindling　the　strength　locked　within　his　immense　body。　Shaba　watched；　fascinated。　He　had　never　seen　such　a　demonstra…tion　of　sheer　concentration。　Fawkes　reinserted　the　bar；　paused　a　few　seconds　more；　and　finally　began　to　heave。　It　looked　to　Shaba　as　though　the　captain　had　turned　to　stone；　there　was　no　obvious　hint　of　effort；　no　tenseness　of　the　muscles。　The　sweat　began　to　pop　from　Fawkes's　forehead　and　the　tendons　of　his　neck　bulged　and　tautened；　every　muscle　turned　rock　hard　with　strain；　then；　slowly；　incredibly；　the　hatch　shrieked　as　steel　scraped　against　steel。
　Shaba　could　not　believe　that　such　brute　force　existed；　he　could　not　know　of　the　secret　that　drove　Fawkes　far　above　and　beyond　his　normal　energies。　Another　inch　of　light　appeared　between　the　hatch　and　the　turret　armor。　Then；　three　inches　。。。　six　。。。　and　abruptly　the　mangled　steel　twisted　from　its　broken　hinges　and　dropped　to　the　deck　with　a　great　metallic　echo。
　Almost　immediately；　the　stench　and　smoke　were　driven　outside　and　replaced　with　cool；　damp　air　from　below。　Fawkes　stood　aside　and　tossed　the　bar　through　the　hatch；　his　clothes　soaked　through　with　sweat；　his　torso　shuddering　as　he　caught　his　breath　and　his　pounding　heart　slowed　to　normal。
　〃Clear　the　breeches　and　secure　the　guns；〃　he　ordered。
　Shaba　looked　blank。　〃We've　lost　hydraulic　pressure　to　the　power　I　rammer。　It　can't　be　reversed　to　remove　the　shells。〃
　〃Damn　the　rammer；〃　Fawkes　snorted。　〃Do　it　by　hand。〃
　
　Shaba　said　nothing　in　reply。　He　had　no　time。　A　gun　barrel　poked　through　the　open　hatch　and　a　hail　of　bullets　ricocheted　throughout　the　armored　chamber。　The　burst　whistled　past　Fawkes's　side。
　Shaba　was　not　as　lucky。　Four　bullets　entered　his　neck　almost　simulta…neously。　He　sank　to　his　knees；　his　eyes　staring　unprehendingly　at　Fawkes；　his　mouth　moving　but　expelling　no　words；　only　a　gush　of　red　that　rivered　down　his　chest。
　Fawkes　stood　by　helplessly　and　watched　Shaba　die。　Then　a　rage　swelled　inside　him　and　he　whirled　and　grabbed　the　gun　muzzle。　The　heat　from　the　barrel　seared　the　flesh　from　his　hands　but　he　was　far　beyond　any　sensation　of　pain。　Fawkes　gave　a　great　pull；　and　the　SEAL　outside；　stubbornly　refusing　to　let　go　of　his　weapon；　catapulted　past　the　narrow　aperture　and　landed　inside；　his　index　finger　still　locked　on　the　trigger。
　There　is　no　fear　in　a　man　who　knows　with　certainty　he　is　about　to　die。　Fawkes　did　not　possess　that　certainty。　His　face　was　white　with　fear；　fear　that　he　would　be　killed　before　the　Quick　Death　shell　inside　one　of　the　three　guns　could　be　deactivated。
　〃You　bloody　fool！〃　he　grunted　as　the　SEAL　kicked　him　in　the　stomach。　〃The　guns　。　。　。　inside　the　guns　。。。　a　plague　。　。　。〃
　The　SEAL　twisted　violently　and　slashed　out　with　his　free　hand　to　Fawkes's　jaw。　Fighting　to　keep　the　muzzle　away　from　his　body；　Fawkes　could　do　nothing　but　absorb　the　blow。　His　strength　was　draining　away　when　he　lurched　backward　and　fell　partially　through　the　hatch　opening；　trying　with　one　last　mighty　effort　to　yank　the　gun　from　the　SEAL's　grasp。　Instead；　the　flesh　came　away　from　his　palms　and　fingers　and　he　lost　his　grip。　The　SEAL　jumped　sideways　and　lowered　the　gun；　aiming　it　with　agonizing　deliberation　at　Fawkes's　stomach。
　Daniel　Obasi；　the　young　boy　sitting　in　the　turret　officer's　firing　booth；　watched　in　numbed　horror　as　the　SEAL'S　finger　tightened　on　the　trigger。　He　tried　to　yell；　to　distract　the　killer　in　the　black　wet　suit；　but　his　throat　was　dry　as　sand　and　a　mere　whisper　rasped　through　his　lips。　Out　of　sheer　desperation；　in　what　he　prayed　was　his　one　hope　of　saving　his　captain's　life；　Obasi　pushed　the　red　〃fire〃　button。
　
　65
　
　There　was　no　way　to　reverse　the　process；　no　way　to　halt　the　firing　sequence。　The　powder　charges　detonated　and　two　projectiles　spit　out　of　the　center　and　starboard　muzzles；　but　inside　the　port　barr