jherbert.sepulchre-第65节

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　　Danny　Shay　was　dismayed　by　what　confronted　him　in　the　gloomy；　candle…lit　room。　Dismayed；　then　fiercely　angry。　There　were　robed　figures　below　him；　one　wielding　a　long；　bloodstained　knife；　another　in　black　wearing　a　hideous　mask　of　some　kind。　There　was　a　girl　resting　against　a　stone　slab；　her　legs　exposed；　blood　soaking　her　clothing。　And　the　stone　resembled　an　altar；　and　on　that　altar…oh　dear　God　in　Heaven　！…there　was　a　mutilated　body；　blood　pumping　from　it　like　red　springwater。　There　were　moving　shadows；　dark　alcoves　that　might　have　hidden　others　involved　in　this　atrocity。　Shay　thumbed　back　the　hammer　of　the　。38。
　　And　then　his　eyes　came　to　rest　on　the　man　he　had　been　seeking。
　　'Halloran！'　he　yelled。
　　The　operative　looked　up　towards　the　top　of　the　stairway；　as　did　the　others　in　the　chamber。　Khayed　became　still；　while　Kline　leaned　heavily　against　the　stone；　a　wildness　in　his　eyes。　Cora　barely　reacted；　for　the　moment　too　disorientated　to　care。
　　The　man　with　the　gun　shoved　Palusinski　away　from　him；　and　the　Pole　staggered　down　a　few　steps　before　cowering　against　the　wall；　folding　himself　up　so　that　he　was　small；　a　poor　attempt　to　make　himself　invisible。　The　weapon　came　around　to　point　at　Halloran。
　　'You've　given　the　Organisation　a　lot　of　grief；　man；'　Shay　said。
　　Halloran　straightened　slightly；　his　body　remaining　tensed。　The　man　above　him　had　spoken　with　a　thick；　southern…Irish　accent　and　a　hint　of　the　truth　began　to　dawn　in　Halloran's　mind。
　　'You　killed　three　good　men；　Halloran。　Valuable　men　to　the　Cause；　they　were。　Shot　'em　before　they　had　a　chance。　You　should　have　known　we'd　find　you；　you　must　have　realised　the　IRA　would　never　stand　for　that！'　Halloran　was　stunned。　So　it　was　he　who　had　been　the　target　all　along。　This　bastard　had　tortured　Dieter　Stuhr　to　find　him。。。
　　The　man　on　the　stairway　felt　uneasy　with　the　strange　smile　that　had　appeared　on　Halloran's　face。
　　Shay　spoke　to　cover　his　own　inexplicable　fear。　'There'll　be　three　Provos；　good　an'　true；　smiling　in　Heaven　this　night；'　he　said；　raising　the　。38　so　that　it　was　aimed　directly　at　Halloran。
　　'There's　no　such　place　for　killers；'　the　man　below　said；　and　his　voice　was　mild；　the　lilt　of　Irish　there　as　if　he'd　not　been　gone　too　long　from　the　ould　country。
　　'That　you'd　be　knowing　yourself；'　Shay　replied。　'God　only　knows　what　Divil's　worship　you're　involved　in　here。　Ask　His　forgiveness；　if　you've　a　mind　to；　an'　do　it　now。'　Thunder　rumbled　as　his　finger　curled　against　the　revolver's　trigger。
　　'Liam！'　Cora　screamed；　and　just　for　an　instant　the　gunman　was　distracted。
　　That　was　all　the　time　that　Halloran　needed　to　make　a　grab　for　the　collapsed　Arab。
　　The　gun　roared　deafeningly　in　the　confines　of　the　underground　room；　but　Halloran　had　already　hoisted　up　the　Arab　to　use　as　a　shield。　Daoud　shuddered　as　the　bullet　struck　his　forehead　and　lodged　inside。　The　operative　fought　to　control　the　twitching　body；　his　hands　beneath　the　dead　man's　shoulders；　holding　him　upright。　The　second　bullet　entered　Daoud's　stomach；　and　the　third　went　through　his　side。　Halloran　felt　this　last　one　nick　his　hip　as　it　emerged　and；　although　most　of　its　force　was　spent；　the　shock　was　enough　to　make　him　drop　his　cover。
　　More　screams　filled　the　air；　but　these　were　from　Khayed　who　had　witnessed　the　slaying　of　his　lover。　He　ran　towards　the　stairs；　the　long　blade　raised　high；　a　continuous　screech　now　rising　from　deep　inside　his　throat。
　　Shay　was　obliged　to　turn　to　meet　the　attack；　and　he　was　hardly　aware　of　the　person　who　had　led　him　to　this　ungodly　place　brushing　past。　Palusinski　was　too　afraid　for　his　own　life　to　tackle　the　gunman；　he　made　for　the　safety　of　the　corridor　at　the　top　of　the　stairs。
　　Khayed　was　almost　on　the　bottom　step　when　Shay　fired　the　gun　at　him。　A　hole　appeared　in　the　Arab's　chest；　its　edges　immediately　spreading　blood。　He　staggered　backwards；　his　arms　waving　as　if　for　balance；　then　came　forward　once　more；　his　face　not　contorted　with　pain　but　with　outrage。　He　reached　the　second　step　and　seemed　to　sense　he　would　never　get　close　to　the　one　who　had　killed　his　beloved　Youssef。
　　The　huge　knife　was　already　leaving　his　hand　as　the　next　bullet　tore　away　his　throat。
　　Shay　fell　back　against　the　stairs；　the　blade　imbedded　at　an　angle　in　his　stomach；　the　heavy　anorak　he　wore　no　protection　at　all。　His　vision　was　already　beginning　to　dim　as　he　turned　his　head　towards　the　man　below；　his　target；　the　Irishman　turned　traitor　whom　he　and　his　group　had　been　sent　to　assassinate　as　an　example　to　others　of　how　the　Organisation　always　avenged　themselves。　His　hand　wavered　as　he　raised　the　Webley　。38；　for　the　weapon　was　suddenly　very　heavy；　almost　too　heavy　to　lift。
　　Once　again　he　aimed　the　gun　at　Halloran。
　　　
　　　
　　　49　RETURN　TO　THE　DEATH　HUT
　　
　　'We　can't　waste　any　more　time　with　this　one；'　Mather　remarked。　'Find　another　point　of　entry？'　his　operative　suggested；　looking　up　from　his　kneeling　position　against　the　porch　wall。
　　'No　need；'　Mather　replied；　raising　a　hand　to　the　other　two　Shield　men　running　towards　them。　He　went　to　meet　them；　keeping　out　of　sight　of　the　main　doors　inside　the　porch　from　where　the　gunman　held　them　at　bay。　He　tightened　his　coat　collar　around　his　neck　against　the　drenching　rain。
　　'In　the　mood　for　target　practice；　Georgie？'　he　asked　when　the　two　men　reached　him。
　　'Always；　sir；'　came　the　answer；　as　all　three　moved　in　close　to　be　heard　over　the　storm。　'What's　the　problem？'
　　'We're　being　refused　admittance。　You　see　the　Mercedes　parked　in　line　with　the　porch？　You'll　have　a　clear　view　of　the　house　doorway　from　the　rear　passenger　seat；　or　at　least　you　can　see　some　of　it　in　the　darkness…our　friend　appears　to　have　switched　off　some　lights。　The　vehicle's　ours；　so　use　your　spare　key　if　it's　locked。'
　　'How　much　damage？'
　　'Just　hit　the　bugger。'　Mather　limped　away；　followed　by　the　second　operative　who　crouched　low　and　used　the　Mercedes　as　a　screen　to　reach　the　opposite　side　of　the　porch。　The　man　named　Georgie　doubled　over　also；　going　to　the　car　and　trying　the　doorhandle。　Halloran　must　have　left　it　in　one　hell　of　a　rush；　he　thought；　when　he　discovered　the　doors　were　unlocked。　The　keys　were　in　the　ignition。　Georgie　switched　on　the　system；　then　crawled　over　to　the　backseat　and　pressed　the　button　to　lower　the　passenger　window。　lie　raised　the　Browning；　keeping　it　clear　of　the　rain　that　spattered　in；　and　waited。
　　He　watched　as　the　operative　with　Mather　crawled　on　his　belly　into　the　tunnel；　keeping　to　the　shadow　of　one　wall。　The　Planner　reached　inside　with　his　cane　to　tap　the　floor；　hoping　to　attract　the　attention　of　their　quarry。
　　It　worked。　Georgie　squeezed　the　Browning's　trigger　as　flame　flashed　from　the　doorway　ahead。　All　he　heard　was　the　bark　of　his　own　weapon；　but　he　assumed　Phil；　inside　the　porch；　had　fired　at　the　same　time；　aiming　slightly　left　of　the　gunflash。　They　waited　a　few　seconds　then；　as　lightning　seared　and　thunder　shook　the　sky；　he　saw　Mather　rush　inside；　Phil　rising　to　acpany　him　to　the　doorway。　He　bundled　out　of　the　car；　taking　up　position　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　porch　to　his　other　colleague；　their　weapons　pointing　inwards　at　the　entrance。
　　Mather　pushed　the　door　back　further　and　flicked　the　Armalite　away　from　the　motionless　gunman　with　his　cane。　Soft　light　from　an　open　door　across　the　spacious　hall　and　from　the　landing　above　lit　the　area　and　Mather　breathed　a　sigh　of　relief　when　he　ascertained　that　no　one　else　guarded　the　main　doors。　Rushing　forward　like　that　so　soon　after　the　enemy　was　hit　had　been　a　calculated　risk；　but　it　had　saved　some　time。
　　Mather　pointed　at　the　slumped　figure　with　his　cane。　'Check　him；　then　send　one　of　the　others　after　me　while　you　search　upstairs。'　He　was　already　limping　across　the　hall　making　for　the　lit　doorway　as　he　gave　the　orders。
　　He　entered　a　corridor　at　the　end　of　which　was　a　door　swaying　with　the　draught　that　blew　in　from　outside；　rain　puddling　the　floor　beneath　it。　He　hurried　forward　glancing　into　other　open　doorways　as　he　passed。
　　From　ahead；　Mather　thought　he　heard　a　scuffling。
　　Palusinski　came　out　into　the　courtyard；　the　pounding　rain　wele　on　his　face　and　head；　even　though　huge　droplets　spattered　his　glasses　and　distorted　his　vision。　Lightning　pearled　everything　before　him；　dazzling　him　through　the　water…spots　on　his　lenses　so　that　he　blinked　rapidly。　Whipping　off　the　spectacles；　the　movement　acpanied　by　a　peal　of　thunder；　he　hurried　across　the　flagstones。　The　Pole　had　no　desire　to　find　his　way　through　Kline's　private　rooms　in　order　to　reach　the　main　doors　of　the　house：　this　way　was　more　direct　and　the　sooner　he　was　away　from　the　madness　inside　Neatly　the　better　he　would　like　it。　His　own　acute　sense　of　survival　told　him　some　kind　of　reckoning　was　at　hand　for　Kline　moj　Pan；　oh　Lord　and　Master！…and　he；　Janusz　Palusinski；　did　not　want　to　be　around　for　the　consequences。
　　But　as　he　passed　the　centre　fountain；　a　burning　liquid　sprayed　his　face。
　　When　he　stopped　to　brush　at　the　stinging　with　his　hand；　he　felt　a　stickiness　on　his　cheek。　He　could　feel　it　eating　into　his　skin。　He　peered　short…sightedly　at　the　fountain　and　there　seemed　to　be　shapes　contorting　from　the　stonework；　rising　from　the　brimming　basin；　writhing　among　the　orn