Doc Savage wild 17: Flight Into Fear by Kenneth Robeson

Author:Kenneth Robeson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Action and Adventure
Publisher: Altus Press\Conde Nast Classic Publishing
Published: 2015-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIII

VIOLENCE FOR BREAKFAST

Doc Savage offered to do his sleeping on a pallet made on top of 5 metal cases containing the Moonwinx UHF radio apparatus. There was obviously not being room in the cabin for all three of them at once unless somebody slept on the boxes.

"You fellows had it tough in the hold, so I'll make out here," Doc offered. "This way, they can't get the gadget without stealing me too."

"Fair enough," said Breckenridge, mollified.

He still seemed vaguely annoyed that the Bronze Man had escaped standing an 8-hour watch in the miserable hold.

"I want you two to see something," Doc said unbuttoning his shirt.

He opened it. His companions expressed amazement at the dull silvery shade of the undershirt he was wearing.

"Bulletproof," he said, slightly embarrassed.

He had for years worn a chain-mesh protective undergarment. It was his one concession to the life of danger he lived.

Strips of adhesive tape held a plastic envelope to the skin under his armpit. He jerked the tape off the metallic fabric.

"If anything happens to me, don't either of you forget this," Doc told them.

He unfolded a large sheet of paper that had been in the plastic envelope. It was a map.

"I drew up the original of this map when I was lumberjacking for the Soviets," he explained.

The chart possessed considerable detail about airfields, roads, towns, factories, negotiability of terrain, military occupancy, and the inhabitants' degree of enthusiasm for Communism.

"This is a pretty good map, the U.S. military intelligence thought," he added. "They found some items on it that surprised them. I showed it to them before I left New York.

He allowed himself a grim smile.

"They thought I did pretty well for a wood-chapping Lapp."

He showed them a line which he had drawn on the chart. It began at the mouth of the Pechora, followed the river south, and then ended at Ust Taylma. The latter was a town near the great bend which the Pechora took eastward.

"This is our route," Doc told them. "The first part, at least. I didn't mark it all out for obvious reasons."

He tore a paper match out of a packet.

"You two know where the Soviets are storing their atomic bombs, don't you?"

He used the match as a pointer.

"Right here. Edge of the Ural Mountains."

He used care not to touch the map with the matchstick and explained why.

"Let's not make any marks on the map around there," he said. "I don't think Ivan suspects we know where he is hiding his big eggs."

He eyed the map with contained self-satisfaction.

"This map could save the day for you fellows in the event I don't survive. Don't forget it."

"What are these numbers written down by some of the towns?" asked Dryden.

"Probably phone numbers of babes from the way the girls at that Bergen clip joint acted toward our friend Banner," joked Breckenridge.

Dryden straightened up from the map.

"That's a hell-of-a way to talk about a map as important as this!"

He flushed angrily.

Then he turned to Doc: "What are they, anyway?"

"The numbers are a

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