p&c.brimstone-第87部分

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　ricocheting　off　the　ceiling；　thudding　into　the　ground　in　a　scattered　pattern　not　far　from　D'Agosta。　
　They're　deliberately　aiming　for　the　ricochet。　
　He　yanked　his　magazine　out　of　the　grip；　examined　it。　It　was　a　ten…shot　magazine：　six　bullets　were　visible；　plus　the　one　in　the　chamber。　
　〃Here's　the　spare　clip；〃　Pendergast　said；　tossing　it　to　him。　〃Conserve　your　fire。〃　
　D'Agosta　glanced　at　it：　full。　He　had　seventeen　shots。　
　Another　short　burst　of　automatic…weapons　fire　came　zinging　off　the　ceiling；　thudding　into　the　ground　directly　before　his　feet。　
　Angle　of　incidence　equals　angle　of　refraction；D'Agosta　vaguely　remembered　from　his　pool…shooting　days。　He　fired　at　the　place　where　he'd　seen　the　rounds　ricochet　off；　fired　a　second　time；　each　time　aiming　for　a　smooth　patch　of　stone；　carefully　angling　for　the　ricochet。　
　He　heard　a　cry。Score　one　to　mathematics。　
　Now　a　fusillade　of　shots　came　ricocheting　in。　D'Agosta　rolled　back　just　in　time；　half　a　dozen　rounds　slapping　the　ground　where　he　had　been。　
　〃How's　it　going？〃　he　called　over　his　shoulder。　
　〃More　time；　Vincent。　Buy　me　time。〃　
　More　bullets　came　in　off　the　ceiling；　with　a　spray　of　broken　stone。　
　Time。D'Agosta　had　no　choice　but　to　return　fire　again。　He　crawled　up　to　the　angle；　peered　around。　A　man　had　ducked　out　from　the　shadows　and　was　running　up　to　a　closer　position。　D'Agosta　fired　once　and　winged　the　man；　who　retreated　with　a　cry。　
　Now　Pendergast　was　firing　his　own　gun　in　measured　shots。　Glancing　back；　D'Agosta　could　see　him　shooting　into　the　masonry　holding　the　grate　in　place。　
　More　shots　came　in；　landing　about　him　in　irregular　spots。　D'Agosta　squeezed　off　another　round。　
　Pendergast　had　emptied　his　magazine。　〃Vincent！〃　he　called。　
　〃What？〃　
　〃Toss　me　your　gun。〃　
　〃But…〃　
　〃The　gun。〃　
　Pendergast　caught　it；　took　careful　aim；　and　fired　point…blank　into　the　masonry　at　each　point　where　the　bars　were　cemented。　The　cement　was　old　and　soft；　and　the　shots　were　taking　effect；　but　still　D'Agosta　winced；　unable　to　prevent　himself　from　counting　the　wasted　bullets。One；　two；　three；　four；　click。　Pendergast　popped　out　the　spent　magazine；　tossed　it　aside。　D'Agosta　handed　him　the　spare。　The　fire　from　around　the　corner　had　intensified。　They　had　only　moments　before　they　were　overrun。　
　Seven　more　shots　rang　out。　Then　Pendergast　paused；　crouched。　
　〃Kick　together。　On　three。〃　
　They　gave　the　grate　a　violent　kick；　but　it　remained　immobile。　
　Pendergast　fired　two　more　shots；　then　tucked　the　gun　into　his　waistband。　
　〃Kick　again。　From　the　ground。〃　
　They　lay　on　their　backs；　cocked　their　legs；　struck　the　grate　together。　
　It　moved。　
　Again；　then　yet　again…and　now　it　came　free；　clanging　down　the　cliff　face　with　a　shower　of　rocks　and　pebbles。　
　They　stood　and　approached　the　edge。　The　rough　rock　went　straight　down　at　least　fifty　feet　before　beginning　to　level　out。　
　〃Shit；〃　D'Agosta　murmured。　
　〃No　choice。　Toss　the　device。　Look　for　brush；　the　gentlest　landing　place　possible。　Then　climb　down。〃　
　D'Agosta　leaned　out；　tossed　the　microwave　weapon　down　into　a　thick　patch　of　bushes。　Then；　swallowing　his　terror；　he　turned　and　eased　himself　over　the　edge。　Sliding　down　slowly；　holding　fast　to　the　mortar　of　the　grate　with　his　hands；　he　found　a　purchase　for　his　feet。　Then　another　descent；　another　purchase。　In　a　moment；　his　face　was　below　the　edge　of　the　chamber；　clinging　to　the　cliff　face。　
　And　then　Pendergast　was　suddenly　beside　him。　〃Go　sideways　as　you　descend。　It's　easier　to　see　footholds；　and　you'll　make　a　more　difficult　target。〃　
　The　rock　was　shelving　limestone；　dreadfully　sheer　but　offering　abundant　hand…　and　footholds。　While　it　probably　would　have　provided　little　challenge　to　a　professional　rock　climber；　D'Agosta　was　terrified　nonetheless。　His　feet　kept　slipping；　and　his　leather…soled　shoes　were　almost　useless。　
　Down　he　went；　gingerly；　one　hand　after　the　other；　trying　not　to　scrape　his　hurt　finger　against　the　sharp　rocks。　Pendergast　was　far　below　already；　descending　swiftly。　
　Shots　echoed　from　the　opening　above；　followed　by　a　tremendous　fusillade；　followed　by　silence。　Then　a　rush　of　voices：Eccoli！　Di　là！　
　D'Agosta　glanced　up　to　see　a　few　heads　craning　out　over　the　gulf。　A　hand　with　a　gun　appeared；　aiming　right　at　him。　He　was　a　sitting　duck。　Christ；　it　was　over。　
　Pendergast's　gun　cracked　from　far　below：　his　final　round。　The　shooter　was　hit　square　in　the　forehead；　he　staggered；　fell；　then　came　hurtling　silently　past；　headed　for　the　rocks　below。　D'Agosta　looked　away；　resumed　his　descent　as　quickly　as　he　dared。　
　From　the　opening　above　came　more　motion。　D'Agosta　saw　another　figure　appear　cautiously；　this　time　with　the　automatic　weapon　in　hand。　D'Agosta　recognized　the　stubby　form　of　an　Uzi。　
　He　flattened　himself　against　the　rock。　Pendergast　had　vanished　out　of　sight　below。　Where　the　hell　was　he？　
　He　heard　the　Uzi　go　off　in　short　bursts；　rounds　humming　past　his　ear。　He　tried　fishing　out　with　his　leg；　searching　for　another　foothold；　but　realized　he　was　protected　only　by　a　thin　shelf　of　rock　overhead；　if　he　moved　again；　he　would　be　exposed。　
　Another　burst　confirmed　the　fact：　he　was　pinned。　
　〃Pendergast！〃　
　No　answer。　
　More　shots　came；　stinging　his　face　with　splinters　of　stone。　He　shifted　one　foot；　probed。　
　Another　burst；　and　he　felt　one　of　the　rounds　nick　his　shoe。　He　pulled　his　leg　back。　He　was　hyperventilating　now；　gasping　for　breath　as　he　clung　to　the　tiny　purchase。　He　had　never　felt　so　terrified　in　his　life。　
　More　shots；　the　stone　fragmenting。　
　They　were　shootingthrough　the　thin　shelf　above　him。　Even　if　he　didn't　move；　they'd　get　him。　He　felt　blood　running　down　his　cheek　from　where　the　stone　chips　had　cut　him。　
　Then　he　heard　a　single　shot；　this　time　from　below；　a　scream　from　overhead；　and　then　another　man　hurtled　past；　Uzi　flying。　
　Pendergast。He　must　have　reached　the　bottom　and　retrieved　the　dead　man's　weapon。　
　D'Agosta　began　to　climb　down　in　a　panic；　slipping；　recovering；　slipping　again。　There　was　another　shot　from　below；　then　another…Pendergast　covering　him；　keeping　the　opening　above　clear　of　men。　
　The　rock　began　to　level　out　a　little　and　he　half　climbed；　half　slid　the　last　twenty　feet。　Then　he　was　on　his　feet　at　the　top　of　a　scree　slope；　soaked　in　perspiration；　heart　hammering；　his　legs　like　jelly。　Pendergast　was　here；　crouched　behind　a　rock；　firing　up　again　at　the　opening。　
　〃Get　the　device　and　let's　go；〃　he　said。　
　D'Agosta　rose；　scrambled　down　to　the　thicket　of　bushes；　and　retrieved　the　weapon。　One　of　its　bulbs　was　slightly　dinged；　and　the　device　looked　a　little　smudged　and　scratched；　but　otherwise　it　seemed　undamaged。　He　slung　it　over　his　shoulder　and　raced　for　the　cover　of　the　trees。　Pendergast　joined　him　a　moment　later。　
　〃Down。　To　the　Greve　road。〃　
　They　took　off　downhill；　leaping　and　running　through　chestnut　trees；　the　sound　of　shots　behind　and　above　growing　fainter　and　fainter。　
　And　then；　suddenly；　Pendergast　stopped　again。　
　In　the　ensuing　silence；　D'Agosta　heard　a　sound　rising　from　below。　The　measured　baying　of　dogs。　
　A　lot　of　dogs。　
　　　
　82　
　
　Pendergast　listened　for　a　moment；　then　he　turned　to　D'Agosta。〃The　count's　boar…hunting　dogs。　With　their　handlers。　ing　up　from　below。〃　
　〃Oh；　my　God　。　。　。〃　
　〃They're　trained　to　fan　out　into　an　impenetrable　line；　trap　their　prey；　and　surround　it。　We've　no　choice。　We've　got　to　go　up　and　over　the　top　of　the　mountain。　That's　our　only　chance　to　escape。〃　
　They　turned　and　began　scrambling　up　through　the　steep　woods；　moving　at　an　angle　to　the　slope；　away　from　the　castle。　It　was　a　tough；　nasty　ascent：　the　chestnut　forest　was　full　of　brush　and　brambles；　the　ground　wet　and　the　leaves　slippery。　D'Agosta　could　hear　the　baying　of　the　dogs　below；　dozens　and　dozens　it　seemed；　overlapping　into　a　cacophony　of　noise。　The　sounds　echoed　clear　across　the　valley；　from　one　end　to　the　other。　They　seemed　to　be　getting　closer。　
　They　climbed　through　an　especially　steep　section　of　forest　and　broke　out　onto　a　gentler　slope；　planted　in　vines；　leaves　yellow　in　the　fall　air。　They　ran　uphill　between　the　rows；　stumbling　and　panting　through　the　wet　clods；　sticky　earth　clinging　to　their　shoes。　
　There　was　no　question：　the　dogs　were　gaining。　
　At　the　far　end　of　the　vineyard；　Pendergast　paused　a　second　to　reconnoiter。　They　were　in　a　couloir　between　two　mountain　ridges。　Above；　the　ridges　narrowed　as　they　approached　the　summit；　about　half　a　mile　away。　The　castle　lay　below　them　on　its　own　projecting　shelf　of　rock；　grim　and　dark。　
　〃e　on；　Vincent；〃　Pendergast　said。　〃There's　not　a　moment　to　lose。〃　
　The　vineyard　gave　way　to　another　steep　slope；　thickly　covered　with　chestnut　trees。　They　thrashed　their　way　upward；　briars　tearing　at　their　already　tattered　clothes。　The　broken　wall　of　some　ancient　ruin　came　into　view　overhead；　an　oldcasa　colonica　sunken　in　vines。　They　climbed　past　the　ruin　and　its　outbuildings　and　entered　an　overgrown　clearing。　Again　Pendergast　paused　to　examine　the　hillside　above　them。　
　D'Agosta　felt　his　heart　was　going　to　explode。　The　microwave　device　was　a　dead　weight　across　his　shoulder。　Staring　down　the　ridgeline；　gasping　for　breath；　he　caught　a　brief　glimpse　of　several　of　the　dogs　below；　running；　baying。　Their　line　was　tightening。　He　could　now　make　out　the　distant　whistling　and　shouting　of　the　handlers。　
　Pendergast　was　staring　intently　upslope；　where　the　couloir　narrowed　toward　the　summit。　〃I　see　a　glint　of　steel。〃　
　〃Men？〃　
　Pendergast　nodded。　〃Have　you　ever　hunted　boar？〃　
　〃No。〃　
　〃That's　precisely　how　we're　being　hunted。　Like　boar。　Up　there；　where　that　draw　narrows；　will　be　the　hunters。　Perhaps　a　dozen；　maybe　more；　arranged　in　blinds。　Their　field　of　fire　will　pletely　cover　the　upper　part　of　the　ridge。〃　He　nodded；　almost　as　if　in　approval。　〃It's　a　standard　hunt。　The　dogs　flush　out　the　boar　and　drive　them　up　a　narrowing　valley　toward　a　ridgeline；　where　they　are　forced　to　break　cover　and　are　taken　down　by　the　hunters。〃　
　〃So　what　do　we　do？〃　
　〃We　don't　behave　like　boar。　Instead　of　runningaway　from　the　dogs；　we　head　sideways。〃　
　He　turned　and　ran　along　the　slope；　at　right　angles　to　the　fall　line；　following　the　rise　and　fall　of　the　topography。　The　baying　of　the　dogs　was　closer；　their　sounds　echoing　back　amo