cyclops-第54部分

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　　　　After　Steinmetz　returned　to　the　entrance　of　Jersey　Colony's　subterranean　headquarters；　he　leisurely　parked　the　lunar　vehicle　and　shuffled　slowly　inside。　He　took　his　time；　almost　feeling　Leuchenko's　eyes　probing　his　every　movement。　Once　out　of　view　of　the　Russians；　he　stopped　short　of　the　airlock　and　quickly　stepped　through　a　small　side　tunnel　that　gradually　rose　through　the　crater's　interior　slope。　His　passage　raised　small　clouds　of　dust　that　filled　the　narrow　shaft；　and　he　had　to　continually　wipe　his　visor　to　see。
　　　　Fifty　steps　and　a　minute　later　he　crouched　and　crawled　into　an　opening　that　led　to　a　small　shelf　camouflaged　by　a　large　gray　cloth　perfectly　matched　to　the　surrounding　surface。　Another　suited　figure　was　lying　on　his　stomach；　gazing　through　the　telescopic　sight　of　a　rifle。
　　　　Willie　Shea；　the　colony's　geophysicist；　did　not　notice　another　presence　until　Steinmetz　eased　down　beside　him。　〃I　don't　think　you　made　much　of　an　impression；〃　he　said　with　a　bare　hint　of　a　Boston　twang。　〃The　Slavs　are　about　to　attack　the　homestead。〃
　　　　From　the　elevated　vantage　point　Steinmetz　could　clearly　see　Major　Leuchenko　and　his　men　advancing　across　the　valley。　They　came　on　like　hunters　stalking　their　prey；　making　no　attempt　to　use　the　high　ground　of　the　crater's　sides。　The　loose　shale　would　have　made　the　going　too　slow。　Instead；　they　jumped　across　the　flat　ground　in　zigzag　patterns；　throwing　themselves　prone　every　thirty　or　forty　feet；　taking　advantage　of　every　boulder；　every　broken　contour　of　the　land。　An　expert　marksman　would　have　found　the　twisting　and　dodging　figures　nearly　impossible　to　hit。
　　　　〃Put　a　shot　about　ten　feet　in　front　of　the　point　man；〃　said　Steinmetz。　〃I　want　to　observe　their　reaction。〃
　　　　〃If　they're　monitoring　our　frequency；　we'll　give　away　our　every　move；〃　protested　Shea。
　　　　〃They　haven't　got　time　to　hunt　for　our　frequency。　Shut　up　and　shoot。〃
　　　　Shea　shrugged　inside　his　lunar　suit；　peered　through　the　crosshairs　of　his　scope；　and　squeezed　off　around。　The　gunshot　was　strangely　silent　because　there　was　no　air　on　the　moon　to　carry　the　sound　waves。


　　　　A　puff　of　dust　kicked　up　ahead　of　Leuchenko　and　he　immediately　dropped　to　the　ground。　His　men　followed　suit　and　stared　over　the　sights　of　their　automatic　weapons；　waiting　expectantly　for　more　fire。　But　nothing　happened。
　　　　〃Did　anyone　see　where　it　came　from？〃　Leuchenko　demanded。
　　　　The　replies　were　negative。
　　　　〃They're　sighting　for　range；〃　said　Sergeant　Ivan　Ostrovski。　A　hardened　veteran　of　the　Afghanistan　fighting；　he　could　not　believe　he　was　actually　in　bat　on　the　moon。　He　swept　a　pointed　finger　over　the　ground　about　two　hundred　meters　ahead。　〃What　do　you　make　of　those　colored　rocks；　Major？〃
　　　　For　the　first　time　Leuchenko　spied　several　boulders　scattered　in　a　ragged　line　across　the　valley；　stained　with　bright　orange　paint。　〃I　doubt　if　it　has　anything　to　do　with　us；〃　he　said。　〃Probably　put　there　for　some　sort　of　experiment。〃
　　　　〃I　think　the　fire　came　on　a　downward　angle；〃　said　Petrov。
　　　　Leuchenko　took　the　binoculars　from　his　hip　pack；　set　them　on　the　tripod；　and　carefully　scanned　the　side　and　rim　of　the　crater。　The　sun　was　a　blazing　white　but　with　no　air　to　spread　the　light　an　astronaut　standing　in　the　shadows　of　a　rock　formation　would　be　almost　invisible。
　　　　〃Nothing　shows；〃　he　said　finally。
　　　　〃If　they're　waiting　for　us　to　close　the　gap；　they　must　be　conserving　a　small　supply　of　ammunition。〃
　　　　〃We'll　know　in　another　three　hundred　meters　what　kind　of　reception　they've　planned；〃　muttered　Leuchenko。　〃Once　we　e　under　cover　of　the　greenhouses　we'll　be　out　of　sight　of　the　cave　entrance。〃　He　rose　to　one　knee　and　waved　his　arm　forward。　〃Fan　out　and　keep　alert。〃
　　　　The　five　Soviet　fighters　leaped　to　their　feet　and　scrambled　on。　As　they　reached　the　orange　rocks　another　shot　struck　the　fine　sand　in　front　of　them　and　they　flung　themselves　prone；　a　jagged　line　of　white　figures；　face　visors　flashing　in　the　intense　rays　of　the　sun。
　　　　Only　a　hundred　meters　separated　them　from　the　greenhouses；　but　nausea　was　draining　their　energy。　They　were　as　tough　as　any　fighting　men　in　the　world；　but　they　were　bating　space　sickness　in　tandem　with　an　alien　environment。　Leuchenko　knew　he　could　count　on　them　to　go　far　beyond　their　limits　of　endurance。　But　if　they　didn't　force　their　way　into　the　safe　atmosphere　of　the　colony　within　the　next　hour；　there　was　little　chance　of　them　making　it　back　to　their　landing　craft　before　their　life…support　systems　gave　out。　He　gave　them　a　minute　to　rest　while　he　made　another　examination　of　the　ground　ahead。
　　　　Leuchenko　was　an　old　hand　at　sniffing　out　traps。　He　had　e　within　a　hair　of　being　killed　on　three　different　patrols　in　ambushes　laid　by　the　Afghan　rebels；　and　he　had　learned　the　fine　art　of　scenting　danger　the　hard　way。
　　　　It　wasn't　what　his　eyes　could　see；　it　was　what　they　couldn't　see　that　rang　a　warning　bell　in　his　head。　The　two　shots　didn't　fit　a　wild　pattern。　They　struck　him　as　deliberately　placed。　A　crude　warning？　No；　it　had　to　mean　something　else；　he　speculated。　A　signal　perhaps？
　　　　The　confining　pressure　suit　and　helmet　irritated　him。　He　longed　for　his　fortable　and　efficient　bat　gear；　but　fully　realizing　they　could　not　protect　his　body　from　the　frying　heat　and　the　cosmic　rays。　For　at　least　the　fourth　time　the　bile　rose　in　his　throat　and　he　gagged　as　he　forced　himself　to　swallow　it。
　　　　The　situation　was　hellish；　he　thought　angrily。　Nothing　was　to　his　liking。　His　men　were　exposed　in　the　open。　He'd　been　given　no　intelligence　on　the　Americans'　weapons　except　the　reported　rocket　launcher。　Now　they　were　under　attack　by　small…arms　fire。　Leuchenko's　only　consolation　was　that　the　colonists　seemed　to　be　using　a　rifle　or　maybe　even　a　pistol。　If　they　possessed　a　full　automatic　firearm；　they　could　have　cut　down　the　Soviets　a　hundred　meters　back。　And　the　rocket　launcher。　Why　hadn't　they　tried　it　before　now？　What　were　they　waiting　for？
　　　　What　bothered　him　most　was　the　total　lack　of　movement　by　the　colonists。　The　greenhouses；　equipment；　and　small　laboratory　modules　sitting　around　the　entrance　to　the　cave　appeared　deserted。
　　　　〃Unless　you　see　a　target；〃　he　ordered；　〃hold　your　fire　until　we　reach　cover。　Then　we'll　regroup　and　storm　the　main　quarters　inside　the　hill。〃
　　　　Leuchenko　waited　until　each　of　his　four　men　acknowledged　and　then　he　motioned　them　on。
　　　　Corporal　Mikhail　Yushchuk　was　about　thirty　meters　behind　and　to　one　side　of　the　man　on　his　left。　He　stood　and　began　running　in　a　crouching　position。　He　had　taken　only　a　few　steps　when　he　felt　a　stinging　sensation　in　his　kidney。　Then　the　sudden　thrust　of　pain　was　repeated。　He　reached　around　and　grasped　the　small　of　his　back　just　below　his　support　system　pack。　His　vision　began　to　blur　and　his　breath　came　in　gasps　as　his　pressurized　suit　began　to　leak。　He　sank　to　his　knees　and　stared　dumbly　at　his　hand。　The　glove　was　drenched　in　blood　that　was　already　steaming　and　coagulating　under　the　roasting　heat　from　the　sun。
　　　　Yushchuk　tried　to　warn　Leuchenko；　but　his　voice　failed。　He　crumbled　into　the　gray　dust；　his　eyes　dimly　recognizing　a　figure　in　a　strange　space　suit　standing　over　him　with　a　knife。　Then　his　world　went　black。


　　　　Steinmetz　witnessed　Yushchuk's　death　from　his　vantage　point　and　issued　a　series　of　sharp　mands　into　his　helmet's　transmitter。　〃Okay；　Dawson；　your　man　is　ten　feet　left　and　eight　feet　ahead　of　you。　Gallagher；　he's　twenty　feet　to　your　right　and　moving　forward。　Steady；　steady；　he's　cutting　right　into　Dawson。　Okay；　nail　him。〃
　　　　He　watched　two　of　the　colonists　materialize　as　if　by　magic　and　attack　one　of　the　Soviets　who　was　lagging　slightly　behind　his　rades。
　　　　〃Two　down；　three　to　go；〃　Steinmetz　muttered　softly　to　himself。
　　　　〃I've　got　my　sights　set　on　the　point　man；〃　said　Shea。　〃But　I　can't　promise　a　clean　hit　unless　he　freezes　for　a　second。〃
　　　　〃Lay　another　shot；　only　closer　this　time　to　get　them　on　the　ground　again。　Then　stay　on　him。　If　he　gets　wise；　he　could　cut　our　guys　down　before　they　could　close　on　him。　Blast　his　ass　if　he　so　much　as　turns　his　head。〃
　　　　Shea　silently　aimed　his　M…14　and　pulled　off　another　shot；　which　struck　less　than　three　feet　in　front　of　the　lead　man's　boots。
　　　　〃Cooper！　Snyder！〃　Steinmetz　barked。　〃Your　man　is　flat　on　the　ground　twenty　feet　ahead　and　to　your　left。　Take　him；　now！〃　He　paused　to　scan　the　position　of　the　second　remaining　Russian。　〃Same　goes　for　Russell　and　Perry；　thirty　feet　directly　in　front。　Go！〃
　　　　The　third　member　of　the　Soviet　bat　team　never　knew　what　hit　him。　He　died　while　hugging　the　ground　for　cover。　Eight　of　the　colonists　were　now　closing　the　pincers　from　the　rear　of　the　Russians；　whose　concentration　was　focused　on　the　colony。
　　　　Suddenly　Steinmetz　froze。　The　man　behind　the　leader　swung　around　just　as　Russell　and　Perry　leaped　at　him　like　offensive　tackles　charging　a　quarterback。


　　　　Lieutenant　Petrov　spotted　the　converging　shadows　as　he　rose　to　his　feet　for　the　final　dash　to　the　greenhouses。　He　instinctively　twisted　around　in　an　abrupt　corkscrew　motion　as　Russell　and　Perry　crashed　into　him。　A　cold　professional；　he　should　have　fired　and　brought　them　down。　But　he　hesitated　a　split　second　too　long　out　of　astonishment。　It　was　as　if　the　Americans　had　risen　up　out　of　the　moon's　surface　like　spectral　demons。　He　managed　to　snap　off　a　shot　that　drilled　one　of　his　assailant's　upper　arms。　Then　a　knife　flashed。
　　　　Leuchenko's　eyes　were　trained　toward　the　colony　ahead。　He　was　unaware　of　the　slaughter　going　on　behind　him　until　he　heard　Petrov　gasp　out　a　warning。　He　spun　around　and　stood　rooted　in　shocked　awe。
　　　　His　four　men　were　stretched　out　in　a　lifeless　sprawl　on　the　lunar　gravel。　Eight　American　colonists　had　appeared　out　of　nowhere　and　were　rapidly　encircling　him。　Sudden　hatred　burst　within　him；　and　he　thrust　his　weapon　into　firing　position。
　　　　A　bullet　thumped　into　his　thigh　and　he　tilted　sideways。　Tensed　in　sudden　pain；　he　squeezed　off　twenty　rounds。　Most　of　them　flew　wide　into　the　lunar　desert；　but　two　found　their　mark。　One　of　the　colonists　fell　backward　and　another　dropped　to　his　knees　clutching　his　shoulder。
　　　　Then　another　bullet　tore　into　his　neck。　He　held　on　to　the　trigger；　spewing　rounds　until　the　clip　ran　dry；　his　shots　fly