Read Online Jack Higgins - Chavasse 02 by Year of the Tiger - Free Book Online

it.”
    â€œCouldn’t have been better.” Kerensky chuckled. “In this moonlight, I can fly through the passes with no trouble, and that was always the most dangerous part of the operation. It’s going to be a piece of cake.”
    â€œI hope you’re right,” Chavasse said.
    â€œBut I always am. During the war I flew over one hundred operations. Every time something bad happened, I felt lousy beforehand. Through my grandmother on my mother’s side, I have Gypsy blood. I always know, I assure you, and tonight I feel good.”
    He leaned over and poured vodka into Chavasse’s empty glass. “Drink up and we’ll go to the airstrip. I sent Joro up there an hour ago with my local man.”
    Chavasse looked down into his glass, a slightfrown on his face. Somewhere in his being, a primitive instinct, perhaps that slight mystical element common to all ancient races and inherited from his Breton ancestors, told him that it was no good. In spite of what Kerensky said, it was no good!
    Accepting that fact, he was taken possession of by a strange fatalistic calm. He raised his glass and smiled and took the vodka down in one easy swallow.
    â€œI’m ready when you are,” he said.
    Â 
    The airstrip was half a mile outside Leh on a flat plain beside the river. It was not an official stopping place for any of the big airlines and had been constructed by the R.A.F. as an emergency strip during the war.
    There was one prefabricated concrete hangar still painted in the grey-green camouflage of wartime, and rainwater dripped steadily through its sagging roof as they went inside.
    The plane squatted in the middle of the hangar, the scarlet and silver of its fuselage gleaming in the light thrown out by two hurricane lamps suspended from the rafters. Jagbar, Kerensky’s mechanic, was sitting at the controls, a look of intense concentration on his face as he listened to the sound of the engine. Joro was sitting beside him.
    Jagbar jumped down to the ground and Jorofollowed him. “How does it sound?” Kerensky said.
    Jagbar grinned, exposing stained and decaying teeth. “Perfect, sahib.”
    â€œAnd fuel?”
    â€œI’ve filled her to capacity, including the emergency tank.”
    Kerensky nodded and patted the side of the plane. “Fly well for me, angel,” he crooned in Polish, and turned to Chavasse. “I’m ready when you are.”
    Chavasse looked at the Tibetan and smiled. “I’ll have my disguise now, such as it is.”
    Joro nodded and pulled a bundle out of the plane. It contained a brown woollen robe, a sheepskin shuba and cap and a pair of Tibetan boots in untanned hide.
    Chavasse changed quickly and turned to Kerensky. “Will I do?”
    The Pole nodded. “At a distance, no one would look at you twice, but remember to keep that face covered. It’s as Gallic as a packet of Gauloises or the Pigalle on a Saturday night. Distinctly out of keeping with the Tibetan steppes.”
    Chavasse grinned. “I’ll try to remember that.”
    He and Joro climbed into the plane first, and then Kerensky slipped into the pilot’s seat. He opened the map and turned to Joro.
    â€œYou’re sure about that border patrol?”
    The Tibetan nodded confidently. “They aresupposed to patrol daily to the Pangong Tso Pass, but lately it has been unsafe for them to do so. There are only ten men and a sergeant. They stay pretty close to Rudok.”
    Kerensky leaned down to Jagbar. “Look for me in about two hours.”
    The mechanic nodded and pulled the chocks away; Kerensky taxied slowly out of the hangar and turned into the wind. A moment later, the end of the airstrip was rushing to meet them. He pulled the stick back and the plane lifted into the gorge, rock walls flashing by on either side.
    The mountains rose to meet them, gigantic and awe-inspiring, and they climbed higher and swung in a gentle curve that