Midnight Runner - Jack Higgins [85]
Parry did as he was told and dropped the steps. There was a mighty rush of wind as Lacey throttled back almost to stalling speed.
"Now!" he shouted. "One thousand feet."
Dillon went out on the first step and dived, Billy close behind him. Parry wrestled with the door and Ferguson turned to help him. Lacey boosted speed and turned away, climbing for the return to Hazar. It was quiet again.
Ferguson returned to his seat, and Harry said, "God help them."
I n the light of the half moon, with dawn touching the horizon, the desert below and its many dunes was clearly visible and the line of the railway unmistakable, the huge oil pipelines running on both sides. The wind was stronger now, and Dillon found himself drifting. Billy was close at hand and a little higher.
Dillon got the Nightstalkers to his eyes and checked the line to his right, but there was nothing. He turned to the left, and there was Tank Five about a mile away, a blockhouse of some kind, and a water tower.
The ground was coming up fast, and a moment later he landed in soft sand between two enormous dunes and rolled over. He divested himself of his chute and started to cover it, when his name was called. He turned and found Billy halfway up the side of one of the dunes.
He finished burying his chute. Above him, Billy was doing the same and then started down. Dillon lit a cigarette and waited.
"Piece of cake," Billy told him as he arrived. "But I couldn't see any sign of the target."
"I did, thanks to the Nightstalkers. A mile down the line that way." He looked at his watch. "A quarter to seven. We'd better get moving," and they started down the side of the track.
T here was much more light now as they reached Tank Five, the trip having taken a good half hour because of the difficulty of walking in the soft sand, which was being whipped up by the increasing wind.
The blockhouse, when they reached it, was a poor sort of thing constructed from concrete breezeblocks. There were a couple of windows, the frames long gone, and a wooden door which opened with difficulty, sand drifted against it. Inside, the pumping mechanism was rusted with age.
"That's not worked in years," Billy said. "Where do they get the water from? Maybe we got it wrong, Dillon, maybe it isn't a water halt anymore?"
They went outside and looked up at the tank, high on four rusting iron legs. A canvas tube was suspended from the underside of the tank, hanging beside an iron ladder. There was some sort of brass fitting on the end and Dillon examined it.
"It's certainly damp. There's a little seepage. I'll take a look."
He climbed the ladder and reached the top of the tank, which was covered, but there was an inspection hatch. It creaked open, and when he looked inside, the water level was almost to the top. He went back down the ladder.
"It's full. Obviously, the pumping system isn't working. Maybe the well ran dry. They probably couple a water tank to the train every so often and refill this tank that way."
"So it's still working. Thank God for that. Now what?"
"I'm going to check in with Tony Villiers."
W ho was pushing hard, seated in the front Land Rover, the other four in a line behind him. They were in a small sandstorm, which could have been worse but was bad enough, for he and his men had had to cover their faces. In fact, he was lucky to hear his Codex and get it out of the left breast pocket of his bush shirt.
"Dillon here. I'm just touching base. Billy and I have made it to Tank Five. What about you?"
"We might reach the other side of the Bacu by eight-thirty, but I can't guarantee it. We've got a touch of sandstorm here."
"Yes, it's a bit like that here," Dillon told him. "Do your best. I'll call again to confirm the train's arrival."
"Good hunting," Villiers said.
Next, Dillon tried Ferguson, but got a no-response signal. All this he had done while sheltering inside the blockhouse with Billy.
"What happens when the train arrives?" Billy asked. "Do we stay in here?"
"I don't think so, just in case someone decides