Bloody Passage - Jack Higgins [73]
I took a deep breath, hauled myself under the rail and started to crawl for the wheelhouse entrance.
"Ah, there you are, old stick," Langley called.
I glanced up instinctively and found him standing in the stern by the starboard rail. He fired twice from the waist, almost casually, and one of the bullets caught me in the right leg, knocking me over. I kept on going, scrambling into the wheelhouse, but he ran along the deck very quickly and stood in the doorway before I could reach what I was looking for.
I hung on to the open window to stop myself from falling down. He smiled gently and lowered the revolver, holding it against his thigh. "You don't look too good, old stick."
I was taking the greatest chance of my life, but I knew then with absolute certainty that there was only one way to handle it. To play to his vanity, that warped sense of humor. I scrabbled at the bulkhead as if trying to hold myself up, then pulled down the flap, grabbed the Uzi and turned, firing.
There was a series of dull clicks and Langley laughed delightedly. "Life's just full of surprises, isn't it? What a pity your girlfriend told me about that before her conscience started playing her up. Never mind. I'll see to her manners for her. Think about that in hell, won't you?"
I dropped the Uzi and slid down the bulkhead to the floor, my face a mask of despair. Langley was obviously thoroughly enjoying himself. He said, "Yes, you really look your age today, old stick. Definitely a tiny bit passe."
As he put a cigarette in his mouth my right hand found the button under the chart table, the flap fell, I grabbed the Stechkin and shot him through the right forearm, all in one quick movement. And part of the whole was wondering whether the thing would fire--whether Simone had been true to me.
The revolver dropped from his nerveless fingers, skidded across the swaying deck and under the rail into the sea. He clutched his arm, blood pouring between the fingers, that slight, fixed smile still in place.
"Lesson number one," I said. "If you're going to shoot somebody, do it, don't just talk about it."
"Well, I'll be damned," he said.
"I should think that's a cold, stone certainty," I told him. "Goodbye, old stick!"
I shot him in the left shoulder, turning him around, an echo of Husseini. The other two bullets shattered his spine, driving him across the starboard rail to land head-down. I crawled out of the wheelhouse, got him by the ankles with one hand, and tipped him over into the sea.
Angelo called, "Langley, you okay?"
I pulled myself along the deck by the starboard rail, dragging my wounded leg and he called out again, a certain amount of anxiety in his voice. "Heh, Langley --where are you?" And then he said impatiently, "For Christ's sake, be still or I'll crown you."
I pulled myself up on to my feet and stepped into the open. He was over by the port rail, his back partially turned to me, Simone held close to him, an arm around her neck, the Uzi ready in his other hand.
I extended my right arm and took very careful aim. "All right, Angelo, let her go."
He glanced over his shoulder and I cried savagely, "Now, not tomorrow!"
"Okay, man! Hold on to your cool!" He pushed her away from him. He started to turn and I saw his finger tighten on the trigger. "Let's talk this over. I'm willing to play along. You can trust me."
"Tell that to Langley," I said and fired.
He went down on one knee, dropping the Uzi. God, but I was tired. I grabbed at one of the wheelhouse windows to stop myself from falling down. He tried to reach for the Uzi, the Palmyra rolled very heavily and he lost his balance and skidded across the wet, sloping deck. He managed to grab the rail with one hand as he went under and hung there a moment glaring up at me, blood on his mouth. And then he could hang on to life no longer, released his grip and the gray sea closed over his head.
I let myself slide down to the deck and Simone dropped on her knees beside me, her eyes wild. "You did me fine," I said.