Queen Victoria's Revenge by Harry Harrison Read Free Book Online Page A

chains like heavy whips, effectively too if the thuds and screams meant anything.
    It was over in a matter of seconds. The men vanished, there was the quick sound of running feet and an automobile engine that raced wildly. Gears were engaged with a jangling clash and the sound of the car dimmed and vanished.
    With infinite care Tony writhed around onto the front seat then, clutching the back, rose up slowly. Other than the tractor the road was empty. Birds sang sweetly among the branches above. Two of the skyjackers were sprawled motionlessly, half in and half out of the car, blood oozing slowly from their battered heads. Ramon sat, unmoving, in the middle of the rear seat staring at Tony,
    â€œDon’t blame me, it wasn’t my idea.”
    The Cuban did not answer. Then Tony noticed that his tongue hung limply from between his teeth and that his head lay at a most unnatural angle. Tony reached out and waved his hand inches away from the staring eyes; they did not move.
    Even before he looked around Tony knew that the suitcase of money would not be there.

FIVE
    It had been quickly and efficiently done. The roadblock, the sudden attack—all that Angus and the driver had to do was see that the Cubans did not draw their weapons for a few seconds until the reinforcements arrived. Brutal and sure. Tony opened the door and climbed shakily out. The birds still sang with great enthusiasm and from behind the hedges in the nearby field there came a sudden crashing like a large animal about to attack. Tony, still groggy, pulled a limp skyjacker farther out into the road and patted his clothes; he had a gun in his jacket pocket. It came free with some struggle, a short-nosed revolver of some kind, and Tony turned and faced the source of the thrashing. Were they coming back to finish him off? He would sell his life dearly. His thoughts were still fuzzy and when he shook his head to clear it it only hurt more.
    What was he worried about? If they had wanted to kill him they could have done that before they left. Hesitantly, he strode over to the hedge, gun ready, and looked behind it.
    A man lay there, trussed in ropes, with a red bandanna handkerchief stuffed into his mouth and tied in place. He wore high rubber boots, dirt-splattered trousers, was gray of hair and red of skin—and bulging his eyes at Tony so they stood out of his head.
    â€œOh, sorry.” Tony put the gun away. “I thought they were coming back.” He ungagged the man and bent to untie his ropes.
    â€œPtah! Dirty buggers. Asked me the way they did then, bash, and me off the tractor and in the weeds. I’ll have the law…”
    â€œJust the thing. Look, there’s more involved in this than you realize. I’ll stay here and make sure these hijackers don’t leave—”
    â€œHijackers, aye! Hijacked my tractor.”
    â€œThey’ve done more than that. Look, get to a phone or the police. Tell them we have some of the airplane skyjackers here. Can you do that?”
    â€œAye.”
    The farmer shook off the coils of rope, looked with some interest at the sprawled bodies, then started the tractor and trundled off down the road. Tony left Ramon sightlessly staring in the car, but dragged, not too gently, the other two to the side of the road. They were beginning to stir and moan as he tied their hands behind their backs with pieces of the discarded rope.
    Within a few moments both skyjackers came to, moaning and complaining, shaking their bonds helplessly. They cursed at each other and at Castro, Scotland and life in particular while Tony nodded in appreciation of their vocabulary. Only when they started on him did he shake the gun in their direction so they cowered back, then he repeated with some warmth all the insults they had lavished on him during his captivity. It gave him a great deal of pleasure and did no harm so he was feeling much better by the time the police arrived.
    Aroused by telephone, the local