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The Doomsday Conspiracy :: Sheldon Sidney
Страница: 187 из 213We’ll meet you in Yugoslavia. Can you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
The balloon was rising higher and higher, carrying him east, away from Elba, which was to the west. But Robert was not concerned. The wind changed direction at varying altitudes. None of the other balloons had taken off yet. Robert spotted one of the chase cars start up, moving to track him. He dropped ballast and watched the altimeter climb. Six hundred feet … seven hundred feet … nine hundred feet … eleven hundred feet …
At fifteen hundred feet the wind began to weaken. The balloon was almost stationary now. Robert dropped more ballast. He used the stair step technique, stopping at different altitudes to check the wind direction.
At two thousand feet, Robert could feel the wind begin to shift. It swayed in the turbulent air for a moment, then slowly began to reverse direction and move west.
In the distance far below, Robert could see the other balloons rising and moving east toward Yugoslavia. There was no sound at all except for the soft whispering of the wind. It’s so quiet, Robert. It’s like flying on a cloud. I wish we could stay up here forever. She had held him close. Have you ever made love in a balloon? she murmured. Let’s try it.
And later, I’ll bet we’re the only people in the world who have made love in a balloon, darling.
Robert was over the Tyrrhenian Sea now, heading northwest toward the coast of Tuscany. Below, a string of islands stretched in a circle off the coast, with Elba the largest.
Napoleon had been exiled here, and he had probably chosen it because on a clear day, Robert thought, he could see his beloved island of Corsica. In exile, Napoleon’s one thought was how to escape and get to France. Mine, too. Only Napoleon didn’t have Susan and the Halcyon to rescue him.
In the distance, Monte Capanne suddenly loomed up, rising three thousand feet into the sky. Robert pulled the safety line that opened the valve at the top of the balloon to allow the hot air to escape, and the balloon began to descend. Below him, Robert could see the lush pink and green of Elba, the pink that came from the granite outcrops and Tuscan houses, and the green of the heavy forests. Below, pristine white beaches were scattered around the edges of the island.
He landed the balloon at the base of the mountain, away from the city, to attract as little attention to himself as possible. There was a road not far from where he had landed and he walked over to it and waited until a car came by.
“Could you give me a lift into town?” Robert called.
“Certainly. Jump in.
“I hear you.”
The balloon was rising higher and higher, carrying him east, away from Elba, which was to the west. But Robert was not concerned. The wind changed direction at varying altitudes. None of the other balloons had taken off yet. Robert spotted one of the chase cars start up, moving to track him. He dropped ballast and watched the altimeter climb. Six hundred feet … seven hundred feet … nine hundred feet … eleven hundred feet …
At fifteen hundred feet the wind began to weaken. The balloon was almost stationary now. Robert dropped more ballast. He used the stair step technique, stopping at different altitudes to check the wind direction.
At two thousand feet, Robert could feel the wind begin to shift. It swayed in the turbulent air for a moment, then slowly began to reverse direction and move west.
In the distance far below, Robert could see the other balloons rising and moving east toward Yugoslavia. There was no sound at all except for the soft whispering of the wind. It’s so quiet, Robert. It’s like flying on a cloud. I wish we could stay up here forever. She had held him close. Have you ever made love in a balloon? she murmured. Let’s try it.
And later, I’ll bet we’re the only people in the world who have made love in a balloon, darling.
Robert was over the Tyrrhenian Sea now, heading northwest toward the coast of Tuscany. Below, a string of islands stretched in a circle off the coast, with Elba the largest.
Napoleon had been exiled here, and he had probably chosen it because on a clear day, Robert thought, he could see his beloved island of Corsica. In exile, Napoleon’s one thought was how to escape and get to France. Mine, too. Only Napoleon didn’t have Susan and the Halcyon to rescue him.
In the distance, Monte Capanne suddenly loomed up, rising three thousand feet into the sky. Robert pulled the safety line that opened the valve at the top of the balloon to allow the hot air to escape, and the balloon began to descend. Below him, Robert could see the lush pink and green of Elba, the pink that came from the granite outcrops and Tuscan houses, and the green of the heavy forests. Below, pristine white beaches were scattered around the edges of the island.
He landed the balloon at the base of the mountain, away from the city, to attract as little attention to himself as possible. There was a road not far from where he had landed and he walked over to it and waited until a car came by.
“Could you give me a lift into town?” Robert called.
“Certainly. Jump in.