The Ice Limit by Douglas J. Preston & Lincoln Child

Author:Douglas J. Preston & Lincoln Child [Preston, Douglas & Child, Lincoln]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers
ISBN: 9781435295889
Publisher: Paw Prints
Published: 2008-06-04T23:00:00+00:00

Rolvaag,

12:25 P.M.

GLINN SLIPPED a hand into his pocket, withdrew a pair of miniature binoculars, and examined the ship. He had expected Vallenar to make another move; and this, apparently, was it.

Britton leapt out of her seat and strode to the window. "He looks like he's about to blow us out of the water," she said.

Glinn first examined the masts, and then the four-inch guns. He lowered the binoculars. "It's a bluff."

"How do you know that?"

"Check your Slick 32."

Britton turned to Howell.

"Slick shows no fire-control radar active along that line of bearing."

Britton glanced back at Glinn with a curious expression in her face.

Glinn handed her the binoculars. "He's pointing the guns at us, but he has no intention of firing them. You'll notice the fire-control radars aren't rotating."

"So I see." Britton returned the binoculars. "Stations fore and aft, Mr. Howell."

"Mr. Garza, will you make sure our reception room is ready, just in case?" Glinn pocketed the binoculars and glanced at Puppup. The mestizo had slumped back in his chair and was stroking his long, drooping mustaches. "Mr. Puppup, I would like to take a turn with you on deck, if you please."

Puppup's expression did not change. He stood and followed Glinn out of the library and down the wide corridor. Outside, a bitter wind blew across the bay, raising dancing whitecaps. Pieces of ice skittered across the deck. Glinn walked ahead, the little old man at his heels, until they reached the great rise of the bow. Here, Glinn stopped and leaned against an anchor windlass, gazing out at the distant destroyer. Now that Vallenar had made his move, the problem would be to anticipate his future actions. Glinn glanced covertly at Puppup. The only person on board who could shed light on Vallenar was the one he understood least. He had found himself unable to predict or control Puppup's actions. And the man dogged him like a shadow. It had proved surprisingly unsettling.

"Got a cigarette?" Puppup asked.

Glinn slid a new pack out of his pocket—Marlboros, worth their weight in gold—and handed it to Puppup. The man tore it open and tapped out a cigarette. "Match?"

Glinn lit his cigarette with a lighter.

"Thanks, guv." Puppup took a deep drag on the cigarette. "Bit parky out today, eh?"

"Yes it is." There was a pause. "Where did you learn your English, Mr. Puppup?"

"From the missionaries, didn't I? The only bit of schooling I had was from them."

"Did one of them come from London, by chance?"

"Both of them as did, sir."

Glinn waited a moment while Puppup smoked. Even considering the cultural differences, the man was remarkably difficult to read. In fact, Glinn had never met such an opaque individual.

He began slowly. "That's a nice ring," he said, pointing offhandedly at a little gold ring on the mestizo's pinkie.

Puppup held it up with a grin. "That it is. Pure gold, a pearl, two rubies, and all."

"A gift from Queen Adelaide, I presume?"

Puppup started, the cigarette jiggling in his mouth. But he recovered quickly. "Right you are."

"And what happened to the queen's bonnet?"

Puppup looked at him curiously.

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