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[Magazine 1966-­07] - The Ghost Riders Affair - Whittington Harry (книги бесплатно без регистрации полные TXT) 📗

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Leonard Finnish heeled around from a control panel when Solo spoke his name.

All the people in the control room came to attention, peering in desperate, near-sighted concentration at Illya, Solo and Finnish's granddaughter.

Finnish squinted, gazing at them, locating the gun in Solo's hand. He breathed deeply from an oxygen flask, then laid it aside, laughing.

He wheezed with laughter. "So you have broken free again, have you? Very commendable. But you are too late. Perhaps Mabel was unable to stop you, but it doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry, grandfather," Mabel whispered.

Finnish laughed again, in wheezing exultance. "It doesn't matter, my child. You have done well. You delayed our enemies just long enough!" He swung his arm toward a bank of monitoring screens. "Look at them! There they go! Racing on our own underground freeways! Four atomic-laden trains! Four trains on automatic pilot—four trains set to explode simultaneously. So you can see, Mr. Solo, you're late. Much too late!"

Stunned, Solo and Illya stood watching the atomic-loaded trains rush toward their targets.

Finnish peered at them, drinking deep satisfaction from their defeat. The he pressed a button. The guards rushed in from outside the control room.

"All right!" Finnish said, breathing painfully. "They've seen enough. Take them out into the city where all can see and kill them. Put their bodies through the hatches into the river."

The guards raised their guns, advancing.

Illya grabbed Mabel, arm about her waist, using her as a shield between himself and the armed guards.

He retreated, holding Mabel tightly against him. The guards ran forward, then paused, hesitant.

They stared at Finnish, uncertainly.

The huge man yelled at them, "Shoot!"

Still the guards hesitated, unable to believe they heard.

"Shoot!" Finnish raged, wheezing.

Illya backed between the panel boards, searching.

"Stop him! Shoot!" Finnish shouted.

Mabel screamed, shaking her head. "Grandfather! No!"

Finnish seemed not even to hear her. She no longer existed for him, except as a temporary obstacle.

"Shoot! Stop him! I don't care how! Stop him!"

The guards advanced, but still they hesitated. Gasping for breath, raging, Finnish lumbered toward the nearest guard, jerked the gun from his arms.

Finnish turned, quivering, holding the gun in his fat hands.

As Finnish fired, Solo lunged toward him, slapping the gun upward.

The gun exploded, the sound reverberating in the control room, the sensitive machine reacting, lights flaring.

Mabel sagged forward. Illya stared at her a moment, unable to believe the old man had shot her. He released her and she sank slowly to the floor. She did not move. She was dead.

Solo ripped the gun from Finnish's arms. The rotund man staggered forward, falling against a computer.

The guard whirled toward Illya, but Solo fired. The guard dropped the gun. He took a forward step, then fell as if he tripped over unseen rope.

He toppled against a machine, clutching at it as he slid down it to the floor.

Illya ran along the banks of panel controls until he found the one he sought.

Finnish stared at him, his eyes magnified behind their thick lenses. Gasping for breath, the rotund man could barely speak.

"Stop him!" he whispered.

He said it again, hopelessly, looking all around him, speaking to nobody in particular.

As if in trances, the other men stood unmoving, watching Finnish.

Illya ran his hand down the panel of watertight door controls. He slapped every button closing doors in every tunnel all through the maze of underground caverns.

Finnish cried out, pressing his hands to his throat waiting.

Illya grabbed up a stool then and smashed the control panel. Lights and fires flared through it. Illya kept smashing with the stool until the sparks no longer flew from the wrecked machine.

Finnish slumped against a computer, clinging to it. He stared at Illya, shaking his head. "Those doors. Now—they can never—be opened."

Illya turned, panting. His eyes were wild with excitement.

"Never be opened!" Finnish wheezed.

"That's the way it crumbles, grandpa!" Illya said.

Finnish shook his head, barely able to speak. "Four atomic bombs smashing into those steel plates! This whole region! Everything! Destroyed!"

Illya stared at Finnish a moment, then jerked his head toward Solo. "I suggest we get—out of here."

The green-clad men stood unmoving for one more moment, then as if all were released at once, they bolted for the doors.

Sobbing for breath, Finnish sagged against the computer, watching his underlings lumber clumsily, running for the exits.

"Fools," he gasped after them. "You fools! Where do you think you'll run to?"

Finnish looked around him. His gray face was rigid, his eyes bleak. His mouth parted widely and he gasped for breath. He slapped his hand around, seeking an oxygen flask but finding none within reach or sight.

He sank to his knees, sobbing. He sagged forward then, covering his head with his arms. He stayed there, rocking, crying, gasping for breath.

Illya ran across the empty room, a place of brightly lighted computers, busy panels, all clattering away in a suddenly, tragically doomed world.

Neither Solo nor Illya looked back. They raced along the white-tiled corridors toward the tunnels where the whistles screamed and people milled in panic.

"Solo!"

Howell yelled at them, standing in the atomic powered elevator. The huge lift was crowded with people from the chamber, and with many green-clad beings huddled together.

Solo and Illya raced across the cavern toward the elevator.

They leaped into it, going past Harrison Howell at the controls, fighting past the green zombies.

Howell pressed the up button and the atomic-powered lift erupted upward.

Solo and Illya, staring at each other, braced themselves against the first explosions that had to come from below, when the first of those trains plowed into those steel plates.

The elevator raced upward. They were conscious of barely breathing, of the increased tension as they awaited something that had to happen.

The elevator shuddered, striking its upper moorings. Solo yelled and people crowded past him, racing up the long incline toward lighted exits in the craggy, dark mountainsides.

An explosion rocked the earth. People fell, screaming. Illya was thrown against the cavern wall. He rebounded, shouting.

"Seismographs will go crazy tonight!" Illya yelled.

Another explosion shook the earth.

"Earthquakes they'll never believe," Illya shouted. He was knocked to his knees. He was aware of Solo, grabbing his arm, half-lifting him as they ran toward safety.

Another explosion rattled the foundation of the world. People screamed around them. Both Illya and Solo were slammed to the ground, and they clung to it as the elevator shaft slowly crumbled into itself.

They fought to their knees, running again, aware of the earth crumbling behind them.

"Another one coming!" Illya yelled. "This ought to rock your teeth!"

"Hang on," Solo shouted. He looked back over his shoulder, saw Illya at his heels, and he ran faster, going toward the sunlight above them.

THE END

* * * * *

home

posted 2.12.2008, transcribed by Sheryl

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