el.angeleyes-第50部分

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　〃Jesus；〃　Estilo　said。
　Tori　said；　〃Let's　by　all　means　kiss　him　on　both　cheeks　the　next　time　we　see　him。　I　don't　think　you're　seeing　this　situation　clearly。　I　made　a　promise　to　Sonia；　and　I'm　going　to　keep　it。〃
　〃You'll　do　nothing　of　the　kind；〃　Russell　said。　〃You　made　one　mistake；　but　I'll　be　damned　if　I'll　let　you　make　another。　You　had　no　right　to　promise　that　woman　anything。　She　obviously　got　to　you　on　an　emotional　level；　but　I'm　ordering　you　to　put　aside　your　emotions…they're　far　too　dangerous　out　here　in　the　field。　This　is　the　end　of　your　maverick　ride；　Tori。〃
　〃Like　hell　it　is；〃　Tori　said。　〃If　you　won't　help；　Estilo　and　I　will…〃
　〃Forget　it；〃　Russell　snapped。　〃You　signed　on　with　the　Mall；　and　you've　got　to　learn　discipline。　You'd　better　start　right　now。　We're　back　to　civilization；　and　my　word　is　law。〃
　〃If　you　think　Machine…Gun　City　is　civilization；　Senor　Slade；〃　Estilo　said；　〃you're　dead　wrong。〃
　Estilo's　words　turned　out　to　be　more　prophetic　than　even　he　could　have　imagined。　The　plane　was　met　at　Medellin　airport　by　Cruz　and　his　cadre　of　sicarios。　None　of　them　were　shy　about　brandishing　their　MAC…10's。
　The　engines　of　the　Twin　Otter　were　still　idling　when　Cruz　directed　the　moving　stair　against　the　airplane's　side；　began　climbing　it。　Tori　went　aft；　opened　the　door。　The　three　of　them　were　waiting　for　him　when　he　entered　the　cabin。　His　sicarios　piled　in　after　him；　immediately　beginning　a　thorough　search　of　the　entire　plane。　Cruz　watched　them　carefully　while　he　waited。　He　said　nothing。
　〃No　cocaine？〃　he　said　at　last　when　the　sicario　leading　the　cadre　returned；　shaking　his　head　negatively。　Then　the　sicario　handed　over　the　glassine　packet　of　metallic　pellets。
　〃We　weren't　there　for　the　coke；〃　Russell　said；　deliberately　ignoring　the　glassine　packet。
　〃Ah。　Then　did　you　discover　who　is　running　the　cocaine　factory？〃
　〃No。　We　got　something　of　a　rude　weling。〃　
　〃Then　you　were　inept。〃　Cruz　gave　them　a　wide　grin。　He　hefted　the　packet。　''But　I　see　for　all　that；　you　didn't　e　away　empty…handed。〃
　Russell　said；　〃You　mean　this　plane？〃　
　Cruz's　nasty　laugh　echoed　in　the　confined　space　of　the　cabin。　He　stared　at　the　packet。　〃This　must　be　very　valuable…to　you。''　He　lifted　his　gaze。　〃But　then　everything　bees　valuable；　sooner　or　later。　Take　information；　for　instance。　While　you　were　gone；　I　received　some。　It　seems　that　Sonia　had　been　the　lover　of　Ruben　Orola；　the　bastard　I　blew　away　last　year。　Now　isn't　that　interesting？　Of　course；　Sonia　thought　it　interesting。　She'd　tell　you　so　herself；　but　sadly；　she　could　not　be　here　with　us　today。　She　met　with　an　unfortunate　accident。　She　went　for　a　walk　in　the　wrong　part　of　town；　and　someone　shot　her。　Foolish　girl。　How　many　times　was　she　warned？〃
　In　the　silence　that　followed；　Cruz　stepped　up　to　Russell；　stared　him　in　the　eye。　〃I　don't　know　what　your　game　is；　but　it's　ended　now。　You　have　an　hour　to　get　out　of　Medellin。　After　that〃…he　shrugged…　''I　can　make　no　assurances　concerning　your　safety。''
　〃We'd　be　only　too　happy　to　leave；〃　Russell　said　amiably。　〃Just　give　his　our　package　and…〃
　〃But　no；〃　Cruz　said。　〃I　must　exact　payment　for　the　use　of　my　helicopter；　not　to　mention　me　inconvenience　your　visit　has　caused　me。〃
　〃That　package　is　of　no　use　to　you；〃　Russell　said。　
　〃Perhaps。　But　this　plane　is。〃　Cruz　studied　Russell。　〃And　it　is　enough　to　know　that　I　have　something　you　want。　In　a　few　days　I　may　throw　it　away…who　knows；　who　cares…but　it　is　mine　to　do　with　as　I　wish。〃
　He　turned；　was　walking　away；　when　Russell　said；　〃I　challenge　you。〃　Russell's　heart　was　beating　fast；　and　he　felt　a　sick　sensation　in　the　pit　of　his　stomach。
　Cruz　paused。　Without　turning　around；　he　said；　〃You're　a　gringo。　Why　should　I…〃
　〃It　was　this　gringo　who　found　the　Orola　mole　inside　your　organization。　You'd　be　dead　without　me。〃　Russell　grinned。　Somewhere；　a　voice　inside　his　head　was　screaming　for　him　to　shut　up；　but　he　would　not。　He　had　to　prove　that　he　could　pull　his　weight　in　the　field。　Along　about　the　time　when　bullets　were　whistling　past　his　head　in　the　llano　negro　it　had　occurred　to　Russell　that　Bernard　Godwin　had　deliberately　sent　him　into　the　field　as　a　taunt；　a　humiliation　for　not　having　e　up　in　the　Mall　in　the　same　way　Bernard　himself　had。　Russell　was　determined　not　to　give　Bernard…or　Tori…the　satisfaction　of　seeing　him　psychologically　torn　apart　by　field　work。　〃Besides；〃　Russell　went　on；　〃your　sicarios　might　wonder　at　the　reason　you　won't　listen　to　my　challenge。　Is　it　that　I'm　just　a　gringo？　Or　have　you　bee　afraid？　Are　you　being　soft　and　weak？〃
　Cruz　whirled　around；　his　face　was　flushed　with　rage。　〃When　I　discovered　what　Sonia　had　been…an　Orola　spy…1　shot　her　myself。　I；　Castro　Cruz。　I　put　the　barrel　of　my　gun　into　her　mouth　and　pulled　the　trigger。　I　was　looking　into　her　eyes　the　entire　time。　I　watched　the　ing　of　death；　I　saw　it　claim　her。　Does　this　sound　soft　and　weak？〃　He　walked　up　to　Russell。　〃And　now　I　have　to　ask　myself　if　Jorge　was　indeed　the　Orola　spy　you　claimed　he　was；　or　why　you；　the　spy　hunter；　missed　Sonia。〃
　〃I　wasn't　looking　at　Sonia；〃　Russell　said。　In　his　mouth　was　the　taste　of　metal；　bitter　and　nauseating。　''Take　my　challenge。''
　Cruz　glanced　around　the　cabin。　His　sicarios　were　watching　him　expectantly。　He　gave　a　perfunctory　nod；　then　shrugged。　〃It's　your　death；〃　he　said。
　The　corrida　was　eerie。　Silent　and　empty；　it　lay　sleeping　in　the　heavy　sunlight。　There　was　nothing　going　on　in　the　bullring　except　on　Sundays；　when　the　Medellin　natives　crowded　its　stands　to　drink　in　the　contrast　of　life　and　death　when　man　faced　bull。
　〃All　right；　Senor　Slade；〃　Cruz　said。　He　and　his　men　surrounded　Tori　and　Estilo　in　the　lower　reaches　of　the　stands。　〃You　have　challenged　and　I　have　answered。〃　Cruz　grinned　down　on　Russell；　who　stood　in　the　bloody　dust　of　the　corrida　itself。　Waiting。　〃I　have　instructed　that　my　best　bull　be　set　loose。　If　you　handle　him；　I　will　give　you　what　you　want。　If；　on　the　other　hand；　the　bull　has　his　way；　whether　or　not　I　have　this　package　will　no　longer　matter　to　you。　You'll　be　dead。''
　Tori　tried　to　read　what　Russell　was　thinking　by　the　expression　on　his　face；　but　he　was　too　good　for　that。　She　was　thinking；　If　he　dies；　it　will　be　on　my　head。　I　will　never　be　able　to　forgive　myself。
　〃Russell；〃　she　called　out；　〃you　don't　have　to　do　this！〃
　Cruz　grunted。　〃But　of　course　he　does。〃　He　nodded　to　one　of　his　sicarios；　who　pointed　his　semiautomatic　at　Russell。　〃A　man　does　not　back　out　of　a　challenge。　Oh；　but　Senor　Slade；　I　forgot　for　a　moment　that　you're　not　a　man；　you're　a　gringo。　Anything　is　possible　for　one　such　as　you。〃
　Russell　said　nothing。　his　attention　was　fixed　on　the　huge　iron…bound　wooden　doors　across　the　dusty　floor　of　the　corrida。
　Cruz　raised　his　arm；　let　it　drop。
　The　wooden　doors　creaked　open；　and　they　could　see　in　the　semishadows　a　huge；　hulking　figure。　It　snorted　heavily；　then　pawed　the　ground。　Russell　moved；　and　the　bull　came　charging　across　the　corrida　toward　him。
　〃Doesn't　he　even　get　a　killing　sword？〃　Tori　said　to　Cruz。
　〃No。　The　killing　sword　is　for　a　matador　only；　not　a　gringo。　He　will　have　to　manage　on　his　own。''
　〃But　he　won't　be　able　to；〃　Tori　said。　〃Not　with　just　his　bare　hands。〃
　〃Well；　I　suppose　that's　the　point。〃　Cruz　laughed；　then　shouted；　〃Ole；　gringo！　Ole！〃　as　Russell　whirled　away　from　the　bull's　first　charge。
　Russell　felt　the　burst　of　sweat　breaking　out　all　over　his　body。　He　had　seen　bullfights　before；　but　he　now　understood　just　how　enormous　these　creatures　were　close　up。　They　were　all　muscle；　all　rage；　chaos　incarnate。　The　smell　of　the　beast　was　in　his　nostrils。　He　had　stared　into　the　bull's　red　eyes；　had　seen　there　a　sight　that　had　jolted　him：　a　kind　of　unthinking　evil；　elemental　and　absolute。　In　that　first　instant　of　recognition；　Russell　knew　that　there　could　be　no　middle　ground　here。　Either　he　would　kill　the　bull　or　the　bull　would　kill　him。　No　other　possibility　existed　in　those　strangely　magnetic　eyes。
　The　bull　charged　again；　his　hooves　thundering；　kicking　up　dust　dark　with　dried　blood。　Its　head　was　lowered；　and　Russell　saw　its　long　horns　aimed　at　his　stomach。　He　could　almost　feel　the　agonizing　rip　of　the　gore；　could　sense　himself　being　jerked　off　his　feet　by　the　beast's　inhuman　strength；　the　horn　tearing　through　his　abdomen　as　the　bull　flailed　him　along　the　ground　or　against　the　corrida's　wall。
　The　thing　was；　it　did　no　good　to　move　right　away；　the　bull　would　just　follow。　And　since　it　was　far　faster　than　a　man；　it　would　run　him　down。　Russell　knew　he　needed　to　follow　the　dictates　of　the　matador；　and　not　move　for　as　long　as　was　possible；　to　whirl　away　only　at　the　last　possible　instant；　to　constantly　frustrate　the　beast。　And　yet；　he　told　himself；　what　good　would　even　this　do？　There　was　no　one　to　cut　the　beast；　to　continually　wound　it；　to　wear　down　its　prodigious　strength；　to　bring　it　to　the　point　where；　exhausted　and　bleeding；　it　lowered　its　head　in　the　middle　of　its　charge　to　receive　the　killing　thrust。
　Russell　waited　as　the　bull　came　on。　He　felt　his　muscles　rippling　with　tremors　over　which　he　had　no　control。　His　teeth　were　chattering。　The　beast's　huge　head　loomed；　rushing　toward　him　at　appalling　speed。
　He　whirled；　but　he　cut　it　a　bit　too　fine；　and　the　bull's　outflung　hoof　caught　him　on　the　ankle。　He　staggered；　fell　into　the　dust。　The　bull　snorted；　so　close　that　Russell　could　feel　the　damp　heat　on　the　back　of　his　neck。　The　foam　of　madness　overflowed　its　lips。　The　tip　of　its　horn　scored　the　wall　just　above　him。　The　scent　of　the　beast　defined　his　world。
　In　the　stands；　Cruz　and　his　sicarios　were　straining　forward；　fascinated；　sensing　that　the　dance　of　death　was　nearing　its　end。　Even　the　guards　posted　high　up　in　the　arena　were　concentrating　on　the　imminent　death　of　the　gringo。　No　one　yelled　〃Ole！〃　now；　they　were　rooting　for　the　bull。
　Tori　leaned　over；　whispered　in　Estilo's　ear。　He　nodded；　as　she　knew　he　would。　Estilo　was　as　fearless　as　he　was　loyal。　She　counted　silently　to　six；　saw　out　of　the　corner　of　her　eyes　Estilo　doing　the　same。　Then　she　launched　herself　over　the　barrier　in　the　stands；　down　into　the　corrida。　At　the　same　time；　Estilo　slipped　the　handgun　from　Cruz's　holster；　pressed　the　muzzle　against　me　side　of　his　head。　〃Don't　move！〃　he　shouted　to　the　sicarios。　〃If　you　want　to　keep　your　leader　alive；