Zero Hour - Cussler Clive. Страница 18
The man shook his head glumly. “Whatever they were in, we didn’t find them.” He motioned toward the open door of the helicopter. “We have to debrief you. This bird will take you back to Alice Springs.”
“What about Bradshaw?” Joe asked.
“He was medevaced out thirty minutes ago.”
“Thirty minutes ago?” Confusion swept over Joe. He felt like he’d made the call no less than thirty seconds ago. Even given his few minutes of unconsciousness, they couldn’t have gotten to Bradshaw that quickly.
Only then did he realize it was nearly dark. The sun had been dropping toward the horizon during his chase, but it was long gone now. Only a faded orange glow lingered in the darkening sky.
The helicopter blades began to accelerate above them as the pilot spooled up for liftoff. “It took us a while to find you,” the man explained.
“What about Kurt?”
“Who?”
“Kurt Austin.”
“I don’t know that name,” the man said. He took Joe’s arm and ushered him toward the door. “Please, we have to go.”
Joe shook loose from the man’s grasp. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to my friend. He went down into the mine to rescue your divers.”
The official made a strange face. “There was an explosion,” he said. “If your friend survived, he’s been flown out. But no one’s left at the lake now except the dead.”
With a sick feeling in his heart, Joe climbed aboard the helicopter and strapped himself in. As he flew, night tightened its grip on the land. By the time he arrived at the Australian military base outside Alice Springs, the sky was like black cloth punctured by some of the brightest stars Joe had ever seen.
He was taken to the infirmary first. A young doctor looked him over and tested for signs of chemical or metal poisoning. After informing Joe that he’d live, the doctor left and an even younger nurse came in. She stitched up the gash in his head where he’d smashed it into the windshield.
Shortly after finishing, she jabbed him in the arm with a shot.
“Oww!”
“Tetanus and antibiotics,” she said.
“Sure,” Joe said, rubbing his bicep. “But aren’t you supposed to warn me or tell me that that’s not going to hurt first?”
“Why lie?” she asked. “Besides, I thought you Yanks were tough.”
“It’s been a rough day,” he admitted. “Speaking of Yanks, have you treated any other Americans tonight? Maybe a guy six feet tall with silver hair.”
“Sorry,” she said, packing up her things, “you’re the first.”
After the nurse left, Joe was taken to a different section of the base. It seemed like basic housing or perhaps quarters for the NCOs.
His escort/guard opened the door to reveal a room with two bunks, a utilitarian desk placed between them, and cinder-block walls. It reminded Joe of a dorm room, right down to the roommate already lying on one of the beds with his feet up.
Joe stepped inside, the door was locked behind him, and Kurt Austin sat up.
“Damn, I’m glad to see you,” Joe said. “They had me thinking you’d become part of the junk pile at the bottom of that mine.”
Kurt stood and gave Joe a bear hug. “I had a similar fear about you. Didn’t expect to surface and find Bradshaw, sunning himself on the beach unattended. I was afraid those thugs got the drop on you.”
“I figured he wasn’t up to four-wheeling through the desert,” Joe replied.
Kurt looked at him oddly. “I’m guessing by the stitches that your chase ended with some extracurricular activities?”
“No,” Joe said, “I didn’t catch them. I ended up in a ditch somehow. But considering how well I was doing up until that point, I’m thinking about entering the Baja 1000 next year.”
“You don’t win the Baja by crashing, Joe. You know that, right?”
“I didn’t crash, amigo, I was…” Joe paused. “Okay, I guess I did crash, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my fault.”
The vagueness of his own recollection was puzzling to Joe. He tried hard to remember. “One second, I was going head-on with them… there was a flash, like the glare of sunlight off a pane of glass, and then… I must have swerved. Though, I honestly can’t remember.”
“You sound like Bradshaw,” Kurt noted.
“How is he, by the way?”
“Alive, thanks to you. They had him in surgery.”
Joe was glad to hear that. “Did you find your scientist down there?”
“Her and another diver from the ASIO. They were basically strapped to a bomb. We escaped, but the station imploded.”
“Are they all right?”
“As far as I know,” Kurt said. “I lost track of them for a moment when the station blew. When I found them, both were unconscious. But thanks to the gripper claws you put on the front of the speeder, I was able to grab them and bring them slowly to the surface.”
Joe smiled with pride. “So the speeder performed like a champ. I knew it would.”
“You may have a future in this submarine business,” Kurt said. “That is, if you can give up your dreams of middle management and off-road racing.”
Joe laughed and took a seat at the desk between the two bunks. He rapped his knuckles against the cinder-block wall. “So are we in prison or protective custody?”
“No idea,” Kurt replied. “Nor do I have any idea what I’ve gotten us into. But if they ever let me talk to someone, I’m damned well determined to find out.”
“Or,” Joe said, “just go with me on this — we could pretend it was all a big misunderstanding and be about our business.”
The furrow in Kurt’s brow showed his feelings on that idea. “What fun would that be?”
Joe knew Kurt so well, he could have predicted that answer. Once his friend sunk his teeth into a mystery, there was no turning back, not until he found what he was looking for.
Unfortunately, no answers would come for the next few hours. In fact, no one bothered them until well past midnight, when the door was unlatched and a pair of Australian military personnel came in. MPs, or the Aussie equivalent, dressed in fatigues. One male, one female.
“Mr. Austin?” the male soldier said. “Please come with me.”
Kurt stood wearily. Joe did the same.
“Not you, Mr. Zavala,” the female guard said. “You stay here.”
Joe feigned great indignation. “What? Nobody wants to interrogate me? I might know a thing or two.”
Kurt moved to the door. “I’m sure they’ll bring you in when I’m done. Don’t wait up.”
The male guard allowed Kurt to pass by and then escorted him down the hall.
Joe lost sight of him and leaned stoically against the wall. To his surprise, the female guard remained behind even as the door was shut.
Joe studied her. She was pretty, despite the lack of makeup and the baggy uniform. It occurred to Joe that she might be there to conduct a surreptitious interrogation. He figured he’d make it easy on her and attempt to find out what she might know in the process.
“Here to keep an eye on me?” he asked.
No reply.
“You know,” he said more smoothly, “there’s something I love about a woman in uniform.”
Still nothing. If she was supposed to charm him, the statue routine was not going over with high marks.
“Not a people person, are you?” Joe said. “So how do you feel about… UFOs?”
She still didn’t speak, but this time the corners of her mouth curled into a slight but apparently irrepressible smile. Joe smiled back. Now he was getting somewhere.
While Joe attempted to charm his guard, Kurt was led on a hike across what seemed like half the military base. They passed the infirmary and continued on until they reached a long hallway. Additional guards or MPs stood at the far end.
“Third door on your right,” Kurt’s escort said.
The corridor was gloomy. The paint on the walls peeling. Equipment covered by dusty tarps lay stacked against the wall, as the fluorescent lights flickered. It looked like the kind of place where they might keep the electroshock therapy equipment.