Line of Control - Tom Clancy [117]
Friday took out his small flashlight and handed it to Samouel.
The batteries would probably not last until sunrise.
Friday told the Pakistani to get a good look at the terrain and then shut the light off until he absolutely needed it again.
Then the American dropped to the left side of the loose formation.
The air was still and the night was quiet. The glacier was protecting them from the fierce mountain winds. Friday waited for Nanda and her grandfather to catch up. Then he fell in beside the woman. She was holding Apu's hand close to her waist and walking slightly ahead of him.
With each step Nanda stopped and literally gave her grandfather a firm but gentle tug across the ice. She was breathing heavily and Apu was bent deeply at the waist.
"We're not going to make it at this rate," Friday said.
"We'll make it," she replied.
"Not in time," Friday insisted. He did not know that for a fact. But saying it emphatically would make it sound true to Nanda.
Nanda did not respond.
"If either side drops a nuclear missile anywhere in the mountains, this glacier will become a freshwater lake," Friday pointed out.
"Let me leave Samouel with your grandfather.
You come with me. When we reach Pakistan we can send help."
"Leave my grandfather with one of the men who held us captive?" she said.
"I can't trust a man like that." "Circumstances have changed," Friday said.
"Samouel wants to save his people. That means protecting your grandfather." The young woman continued to help her grandfather along.
Friday could not see her expression in the dark. But he could hear the farmer's feet drag along the ice. Just the sound had an enraging quality.
"Nanda, I need your cooperation on this," Friday pressed.
"I am cooperating," she replied evenly.
"You don't understand," Friday said.
"We have no idea what's happening in the outside world. We need to get you across the line of control as quickly as possible."
Nanda stopped. She told her grandfather to rest for a moment.
The farmer gratefully lowered himself to his knees while the woman took Friday aside. The American told Samouel to keep moving. Friday would find him by the bursts from the flashlight.
"If we leave the terrorist and my grandfather here, no one will come back," Nanda said.
"I know this border region.
There will be a great deal of tension on both sides of the glacier. No one will want to make any unnecessary or provocative military moves.
Samouel will leave without him."
"We'll send a civilian helicopter back here," Friday said.
"The American embassy can arrange it quickly." "They'll be dead by then," Nanda told him.
"My grandfather is pushing himself as it is. If I leave he'll give up."
"Nanda, if you don't leave, two nations may cease to exist," Friday pointed out.
"You played a key role in this.
You have to set it right."
The young woman was silent. Friday could not see her in the blackness but he could hear her breathing. It had slowed somewhat. Nanda was thinking. She was softening.
She was going to agree.
"All right," she said.
"I'll do what you ask but only if you stay and help my grandfather."
That caught Friday by surprise.
"Why?"
"You know how to survive out here," Nanda replied. She placed her hand on the unlit torches for emphasis.
"I think I saw a valley to the west. You will be able to get him down there in the dark, find shelter, warmth, and water. Promise me you'll take care of him and I'll go ahead with Samouel."
The perspiration on the American's face was beginning to freeze. It was a strange feeling, like candle wax hardening.
The insides of his thighs were badly chafed and his lungs hurt from the cold air they had been breathing. The longer he stood here the more aware he became of how vulnerable they were. It would be easy to stand still a moment too long and die.
Friday set the two torches down and removed the glove from his right hand. He scratched the frozen sweat from his cheeks and forehead. Then he slipped his hand into his coat pocket. Nanda was Friday's trophy. He had no intention of staying behind or being dictated