Golden Buddha by Clive Cussler & Craig Dirgo

Author:Clive Cussler & Craig Dirgo [Cussler, Clive & Dirgo, Craig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780718147327
Publisher: Michael Joseph Ltd
Published: 2007-07-31T07:00:00+00:00

Cabrillo aboard if they were successful getting the icon aboard the An-tonov. Hanley stood off to the side, checking the fit on the harness that wrapped around Cabrillo's chest and upper thighs. Satisfied it was properly attached, he snapped a smaller bag containing the sandwiches to one side of the harness.

"The old Fulton Recovery System," Cabrillo said. "You'd think with all our funds we'd have found a replacement by now."

"It's so rare we're this far offshore," Hanley said. "Past the point our amphibian or a helicopter can reach us."

"You ever ridden one of these?" Cabrillo asked. "Never had the pleasure," Hanley said, smiling. "It feels like a mule kicked you in the ass," Cabrillo said. "That's the least of your worries, the way I see it." "How do you figure?" Cabrillo asked.

"The only winch we could find was designed for light trucks," Hanley noted. "I just hope they can reel you in fast enough before you strike the rear stabilizer."

"You make it all sound so appealing," Cabrillo said wryly.

The sound of the Antonov was growing louder.

"Clear the decks," Nixon shouted, "for the first approach."

GUNDERSON WAS NOTED for never becoming flustered. No matter what the situation, he always maintained his cool. Lowering the flaps on the Antonov, he slowed the speed to just above jtall, then lined up less than a hundred feet above the deck. "Anybody got any gum?" he asked.

Michaels quickly peeled the foil off a piece and jammed it in his mouth.

"Head back to help Tracy," Gunderson said. "I'll hook the fatso on the first pass, then I'll shout back before I roll her over."

Inside the Oregon, the cameras on the deck relayed an image of the

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GOLDEN BUDDHA

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operation throughout the ship. Everyone watched as Gunderson steered closer.

In the cargo compartment, Pilston and Michaels were watching out the open door. The steel cable stretched backward, but the hook on the end was out of view. Gunderson was peering out the front window, then the side window, in a rapid ballet of visual Olympics. At the top of the cable leading to the Fulton Aerial Recovery System, just below the balloon, the cable spread into a Y shape. Gunderson chomped on the gum as he steered the Antonov closer.

"It's show time," he shouted.

The hook dangling back from the plane slid cleanly into the Y and snagged the cable. A split second later the crate containing the Golden Buddha was yanked from the deck as cleanly as ripping a bandage off a wound. Gunderson instantly felt the drag on the plane and shouted for Pilston to engage the winch.

She threw the lever forward and the package started to reel aboard, while at the same time Gunderson eased the biplane over on her side. Hanley watched from the deck in amazement.

"Tell me when the load's within ten feet," Gunderson shouted.

A minute or so later, Michaels shouted, "Okay, Chuck."

Gunderson did a quick sideways dive to the ocean, now only some eighty feet away, and the crate went temporarily weightless from the g forces.

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