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

of the way and stood back and watched as Kerenksy taxied along to the other end of the strand and turned into the wind.
    As he moved forward, the engine note deepened, and a few moments later the plane banked away across the lake, gaining height all the time, and disappeared towards the northwest.
    His ears still ringing with the sound of the plane’s engine, Chavasse turned to Joro. “We’d better find somewhere to dump this little lot until your pals from Yalung Gompa can pick it up.”
    He moved across the sand towards a narrow gully which cut into the side of the hill about forty yards away. Strange how the sound of the engine still rang in his ears, but the gully looked just the place.
    He turned to call Joro and a jeep appeared on the crest of the hill as if by magic.
    In that first frozen moment of panic he was aware of the peak caps of the soldiers and the long ugly barrel of the machine gun mounted on a swivel, and then he was running into the open, one hand reaching for his Walther.
    â€œLook out, Joro,” he cried in English.
    The heavy barrel of the machine gun was already swinging towards the Tibetan, and ribbons of fire stabbed through the night, kicking up the sand in great fountains.
    Joro flung himself sideways, rolling desperately, and Chavasse dropped to one knee and got off a couple of shots to draw their fire.
    Joro scrambled to his feet and disappeared into the shelter of a jumbled mass of boulders at the water’s edge as the barrel of the machine gun turned towards Chavasse. He retreated into the mouth of the gully, flinging himself flat on his face as bullets hammered the rocks beside him.
    A splinter cut his cheek and when he got to his feet and tried to move farther into the sheltering darkness, a bullet sliced across his left shoulder. He hugged the earth again and waited and when the bullets at last stopped coming, the silence was even harder to bear. He cautiously scrambled to his feet again, and immediately there was a muffled explosion and the gully was bathed in a hard white light.
    He looked up at the descending flare andwaited, because there was no place to run to. After a while, stones rattled down and two Chinese soldiers appeared on the rim of the gully, burp guns ready. As he raised the Walther to fire, a third man appeared between them.
    He stood on the edge of the gully, a slight smile on his face, so close that Chavasse could see the feather in his Tyrolean hat and the fur collar of his hunting jacket.
    â€œDon’t be a damned fool,” the man said calmly in English. “That thing’s going to do you no good at all.”
    Chavasse looked up at him in astonishment and then, in spite of the pain in his shoulder, he laughed. It had, after all, been a night for surprises.
    â€œYou know, I think you’ve got something there,” he said, and tossed the Walther across and waited for them to come for him.
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    The wind from the steppes moved down into the hollow, touching Chavasse with icy fingers. He shivered and pulled his sheepskin shuba up about his face with one hand.
    The pain in his shoulder had lapsed into a slow, dull ache, the raw flesh anesthetized by the bitter cold, and he had a splitting headache and a slight feeling of nausea. Probably something to do with the fact that he hadn’t had sufficient time to become acclimatised to the altitude.
    He sat with his back propped against one of the wheels of the jeep and a few feet away, a spirit stove flared in the wind in front of a small pup tent. The two Chinese soldiers crouched beside it. One of them held his burp gun across hisknees and smoked a cigarette while the other heated coffee in an aluminum pan.
    Chavasse wondered about Joro. At least he’d managed to get away in one piece, so something had been salvaged from the mess, but for the moment, he could look for no help in that direction. Without arms and alone, the Tibetan could accomplish nothing. If he managed to