Dark Side of the Street - Jack Higgins [66]
Chavasse's right hand fastened over a large round stone in the stream bed and he brought his arm up and round, hurling it into Vaughan's face with all his remaining strength. It caught him high on the right cheek and he cried out sharply and staggered back, the knife flying from his hand.
It fell into the water a yard or two away, plainly visible on a bed of pebbles and Chavasse rolled over and grabbed for it desperately. He got to one knee, turning just in time to meet Vaughan's forward rush, splitting him cleanly on the razor sharp blade.
Vaughan poised on the edge of eternity, a look of blank amazement on his face and then he actually smiled.
"Well I'll be damned. So the old bitch was right after all."
Blood erupted from his mouth in a sudden bright stream and he turned, took a single hesitant step forward and fell on his face in the water.
Chavasse waded forward and crawled up the bank. He paused to examine his leg and found two holes in the rubber diving suit indicating that the bullet had passed clean through.
It wasn't painful until he stood up and tried to walk and then the pain was bad--really bad, flowering inside him like fire, sweat springing to his forehead. There wasn't much bleeding which was one good thing and he staggered forward, clutching at the pine trees for support as he passed, calling Molly's name aloud.
He was almost at the edge of the wood when he found her huddled under a bush, soaked to the skin. She got to her feet and ran to meet him.
"Thank God. Paul, are you all right?"
"Only just."
"Where's Mr. Smith?"
"Face down in a stream a little way back."
The words meant nothing to her and she clutched at his arm excitedly. "We'll have to hurry if we're going to get down to the jetty in time."
He stared at her blankly. "The jetty? What for?"
"They'll be leaving soon and taking Harry with them. We've got to stop them."
Chavasse held her arms lightly and tried to find the words. "He's going because he wants to go, Molly. He's agreed to take Stavru to Portugal in the boat. In return he gets his freedom and his money."
She laughed--for the first time since he'd known her she laughed. "But that doesn't make sense."
"He left us, Molly. He left us behind to be executed. You never at any time had even a remote prospect of a place in his future."
"You're lying," she said in a low desperate voice. "I don't believe a word of it." She struggled to free herself. "Let me go. If you won't help him, I will."
"No one on top of earth can help Harry Youngblood now."
She went completely rigid, caught by the gravity of his words and Chavasse held up his wrist so that she could see the time.
"The limpet mine, Molly. I didn't switch it through to neutral like I said. I left it on maximum timing--twelve hours. It's the only thing that's kept me going for the past hour."
Her head moved slightly from side to side and there was an expression of real horror on her face.
And then she exploded into action. She kicked at his shins, fingers hooking at his eyes and suddenly his leg doubled up beneath him. As he fell, she turned and ran.
He lay there for a moment or so, his senses swimming and then forced himself to his feet and staggered after her, dragging his wounded leg.
The rain still hammered down remorselessly, but the mist had cleared a little so that when he went over the edge of the hollow on the other side of the house, he could see the tiny harbor below, the boat tied to the jetty, Stavru and Youngblood standing in the prow watching Gledik lash half a dozen drums of petrol together.
Molly was halfway down the hill and running as she had never run in her life before. There was no chance on earth of catching her, but Chavasse gritted his teeth and started down the path.
She called Youngblood's name once, high