[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
stepped on stones. He did not have to try to be careful. He was always careful
in the woods. It was his nature.
By nightfall he had learned more about the American's methods of travel.
He did not stop to hunt, so he had a store of food. He had smoked and dried
meat back there. Alekhin had not found the rack, but he had found holes where
it had been set into the earth. He was carrying a pack. Alekhin could tell
that from the increased depth of the tracks since leaving the cave. It was
very slight, but it was there.
At the sight of the attack where Joe Mack had killed the soldier, Alekhin had
correctly deduced the reason. There was no cover for a man on the ground. When
the soldier turned around, he would have been seen.
That night around their fire, Alekhin went over every move in his mind. To
follow a trail one had to decide what it was the pursued wanted to do.
To escape? Of course, but to what? To where? It was unlikely the American had
friends, so his one object would be to get away, to get out of Siberia, to
return to his home. Alekhin had never believed in the border of China. This
man was an Indian. He would follow the old migration route, the way the
ancient hunters had gone when they followed game into America.
Of course, they had not known they were going to America or even from one
continent to another. They had simply gone hunting and followed the game to
where they could kill them. And they had continued to follow the game.
The shortest way across the water was at the Bering Strait. He would choose
that
way. Zamatev had never believed that, but then Zamatev was a city man, a man
of
the streets and towns.
The American was an Indian. He would go where the game was because that was
how he must live. He dared not go to the towns because he did not know the
language.
Zamatev could do it his way. Alekhin had no interest in towns.
Zamatev drew the cork from the bottle and filled two glasses. "I came as
quickly as possible," he said.
"I am sorry. When I sent word, I thought they would be there. When we located
the village, I did not believe it would be empty."
"Somebody talked," Zamatev surmised.
She lifted her glass. "Perhaps. More likely they just got in a panic and fled.
I think the American had already gone."
Page 121
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Alekhin has his trail. He will get him now."
"Maybe."
"You do not believe it?"
"Who knows? This one is different." She looked across the table at him. "You
fly back tomorrow?"
"I must."
"I shall fly to Magadan. Something might be done from there."
He nodded. "Grigory is there. He's a good one."
"I was thinking of him." She paused as if uncertain of what to say next.
"Shepilov is there, also. "
Zamatev's glass came down hard on the table. "Shepilov is in Magadan? Why?"
She shrugged. "That is why I am going. He knows something or believes he does.
You know how it is with him. He does not move if he does not have to.
Something important would be needed to take him to Magadan. He does not like
the place."
"How do you know that?"
"I worked for him. Don't you remember? It was gossip in the bureau. He did not
like Magadan, but he had been posted there once, long ago."
"So he will have friends there?" Zamatev was thoughtful. "Perhaps he has some
word from them? Is that what you believe?"
"Grigory will know."
"Yes. Do you think he is loyal to me?"
"Oh, yes. He has told me so, and I know he hates Shepilov, as much as he can
hate anyone. It isn't in him, you know."
"Hate clouds the mind. It is better to have no emotion when it is work. Do
what needs to be done, and do it coolly."
After she was gone he took out the map again. The net was drawing tighter now.
They knew where he was. Not exactly that would come later but they knew
where he had been, and Alekhin was following his trail. Kyra would be in
Magadan, and Grigory would know what to do. Suvarov was in Nel'kan, even
closer.
But what had taken Shepilov to Magadan? Shepilov would not move from his
comforts unless he was sure of something. But Makatozi could not be that far
along, not unless he had stolen a plane or caught a ride on one.
Of course, Shepilov would dearly love to capture the American. Zamatev could
just see the smug satisfaction on his face.
Again Zamatev stared at the map. What a fool he had been not to keep the man
in irons. Now all he had done, all he lived for, all he hoped to be, depended
on capturing the American.
Page 122
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
He stared at the map, stared at the area where he must be. Stared as if his
very gaze would make Makatozi emerge from the map in a living presence.
He had to have him. There was no other way. He had to take the American.
There was no time.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]