The Mind-­Twisters Affair - Stratton Thomas. Страница 11

Napoleon shrugged. "Nothing, I suppose. As long as it stays that high." He closed the door and his eyes almost simultaneously.

Illya drove silently. At the next stop for gas, there was a helicopter hovering overhead. They discussed the possibilities, and decided to stay on the turnpike. The side roads wouldn't hide them from aerial observation, and Napoleon thought they might be able to outrun a conventional helicopter on a straightaway. Also, there were several tunnels ahead.

The traffic had picked up, so neither Napoleon nor Illya immediately noticed the two large sedans that merged smoothly into traffic in front of them. Napoleon, who was driving, was only mildly irritated when the sedans pulled even with one another and blocked both lanes while moving slightly slower than he wanted to travel. After a few minutes of this, both cars began to slow down, still carefully abreast. At the same time, two similar cars appeared in his rear-view mirror, blocking both lanes behind him.

"It would seem," Napoleon said, nodding toward the cars ahead, "that they've called in the ground forces."

Illya put his head out the window and peered up. "The air force is closing in, too."

"This would seem to settle any doubts about Thrush being involved. No one else I know can afford massed ranks of cars and a helicopter to run us down. I hate to say I told you so, but…"

"But you'll make an exception for a friend; I know." Illya interrupted him.

Napoleon was driving carefully, watching the four cars. They were still slowing, and the two in back were drawing closer. Then one of the cars in the rear began to draw ahead of the other. Napoleon promptly swung the U.N.C.L.E. car in front of it, and it dropped back and its companion pulled ahead. By now they could hear the roar of the approaching helicopter.

"We're thoroughly boxed in," Napoleon reported. "Looks like they may try to run us off the road."

Illya looked calmly at the sheer drop a few feet from the right lane of traffic. "If we're going to be run off the road, I'd suggest getting into the left lane. The median strip is steep, but it may not be a total disaster. I wonder if they've given up trying to get Armden back alive?"

Napoleon swung into the left lane, and the following cars reversed their positions. He eyed the dash panel speculatively. "There must be something to use in a situation like this."

"With a dozen ordinary motorists in the line of fire," Illya suggested, "our choices are limited. I can just see the U.N.C.L.E. image after we've wiped a flamethrower across a car full of innocent bystanders."

"And the laser system has the same drawback," Napoleon muttered. "At least the flamethrowers are a relatively short-range weapon. Still, we'd better have something; they're closing in fast."

He studied the road and the surrounding cars, and suddenly brightened. "This won't lose the helicopter," he announced, "but it won't damage the innocent bystanders, either."

A hundred yards ahead, a police crossover was built across the median strip. As they approached it, Napoleon's hand hovered over a button on the dash. Suddenly he stabbed the button, accelerated until he was directly behind the cars ahead, and then bit the brakes and swerved into the crossover. The cars behind disappeared into a thick cloud of smoke ejected from the rear of the U.N.C.L.E. car. Napoleon cut off the smoke screen as they bounced across the median strip and turned into the opposite lanes of the dual highway as angry motorists tooted irritably at them. Behind them, a section of the east bound lanes was blanketed by a dense smoke screen which was already beginning to dissipate. The four Thrush cars were moving slowly eastward, looking for a place to cross the median, while the cars behind honked at them for blocking traffic.

Napoleon had accelerated after crossing the median, but after seeing the success of his maneuver he slowed to keep the U.N.C.L.E. car in the normal traffic flow. A short while later an exit appeared, and Napoleon swung off the turnpike.

There was no sign of the Thrush cars as they pulled up to the toll booth, but the helicopter was an ominous speck in the sky. Rather than try to explain why they were in a westbound lane with an eastbound ticket, Napoleon confessed to losing his ticket, and paid for the entire distance.

"I can see you trying to explain that on your expense account," Illya commented.

"My expense account? It was your neck, too!"

"But you were driving," Illya pointed out. He looked up. "They're still with us."

"The copter must have spotted us and radioed ahead to set up the ambush," Napoleon said. "They can do the same thing again, though we'll have more boltholes on this sort of a road." He paused thoughtfully. "How does one lose a helicopter?"

"With great difficulty, I suspect," Illya said. He struggled to get turned around in the crowded quarters. "Open the weapons compartment, will you? I want to see what we have."

Napoleon pressed another button on the dash and a panel slid up, revealing a compartment behind it. Illya reached back into it, fished around for awhile, and brought out something that looked like the results of a violent collision between a target revolver and a small air gun.

Napoleon gave it a sidelong glance. "You've been playing with the new ordnance again," he accused. "That's one I haven't even seen."

"You should spend more time in the labs. This is a Mercox dart projectile gun."

"Dart?" Napoleon exclaimed. "I read about that fellow in the Congo who shot down a helicopter with a bow and arrow, but I didn't realize he'd made such an impression on our technical staff."

"Patience, Napoleon," Illya soothed. "This uses the gas from a blank cartridge to fire various projectiles: tear gas, dye marker, hypodermic darts, shaped charges - just about anything you want. The original gun is extremely versatile, and this one has been worked over somewhat by our lab boys." He rummaged through the weapons compartment again and triumphantly held up a handful of cartridges that looked like small rockets.

"Our HE-37 explosive, in a shaped charge that projects almost the entire force forward. It can do almost as much damage as a light field piece, if the opposition comes within range."

"I knew there was a catch to it," Napoleon commented. "What's the effective range?"

"About eighty yards, which is a bit more than the original version would do."

"Oh, fine. Don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes. What about the rockets in the car doors?"

Illya considered. "Since they're fixed to fire horizontally, I don't think I'd want to try them against a helicopter unless we stop and take the door off. I know they have a heat-seeking device, but I'm afraid if we launched one here, it would be more likely to destroy a herd of cows than the helicopter."

"All right, then; the problem is to lure the copter close enough for you to use your hybrid there." Napoleon began to watch the roadside for an opportunity. The helicopter had descended to perhaps five hundred feet, where it remained.

In the next half hour, no opportunity presented it self. Then, just as both agents were beginning to wonder when the next covey of Thrushes would appear, the helicopter suddenly abandoned its cautious stalking and began to descend.

"Here they come," Illya said. "And unless I'm mistaken, they mean business."

As if to confirm Illya's suspicions, there was a rattling sound and a line of tiny pits appeared in the highway ahead of them. Napoleon swerved into the other lane and floored the accelerator. The firing stopped as the car pulled away. The car had more acceleration than the helicopter and on a straight road it would have had more speed. But they weren't on a straight road; in a few minutes, the helicopter pulled even with them again.