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The big question is whether he'll ever walk again."
Tidi pressed her face against Pitts hand and began to sob, her breath coming in convulsive shudders, the shock, the pain, and the relief washing over her in rolling waves. He held her tightly saying nothing. He was still holding her shivering body and stroking her hair as the would a little girl when Captain HUH approached.
"Take the girl first," pitt said. "Her ankles are broken."
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"My men have set up an aid tent above the slopes.
There's a stove warming in it now. She'll be comfortable there until the Icelandic Search and Rescue Team can transport her to Reykjavik." Hull wiped his eyes tiredly.
"Their cross-country vehicles are homing in on our radio signals now."
"Can't you airlift her out?"
Hull shook his head. "Sorry, Major. That old trimotor can only carry eight stretcher cases on one trip.
I'm afraid the first load will have to be the most critically injured. This is one occasion where the ladies will have to go last."
He nodded down at Lillie. "How bad is this one?"
"Fractured shoulders and pelvis."
Two of Hull's men appeared carrying an aluminum basket stretcher. "Take the man first," he ordered.
"And see that you handle him gently. This one is a back injury."
The paramedics carefully eased Lillie's inert form into the stretcher and attached the ropes for the ascent to the treacherous ravine. Pitt couldn't help but be impressed and thankful for the efficiency and smoothness of the lifting lines. Just three minutes later Hull had returned for Tidi.
"Okay, Major. I'll take the little lady."
"Handle her with care, Captain. She happens to be Admiral Sandecker's private secretary."
Apparently nothing startled Hull for long. The surprise only flickered in his eyes for an instant. "Well, well," he boomed. "In that case, I'll escort the lady myself."
Hull tenderly picked Tidi up in his ma
ssive arms and carried her to a waiting basket. Then true to his word, he climbed along beside her all the way to the top of the slope and saw her comfortably bedded down inside the warm tent before he returned to direct the rescue operation.
Pitt pulled the package from under his arm and moved slowly across the broken bottom of the ravine until he stood over the Russian diplomat. "Mr. Tamareztov, how are you getting along?"
"A Russian relishes the cold, Major Pitt." He cupped a small handful of snow that had fallen across his chest. "Moscow would not be Moscow without a season of snow. To me it is the same as desert sand to an Arab a curse that is part of one's very existence."
"Are you in pain?"
"An old Bolshevik never admits to pain."
"A pity," Pitt said.
"A pity?" Tainareztov repeated. He looked at Pitt suspiciously.
"Yes, I was about to offer you a little something that's guaranteed to relieve discomfort caused by hay fever, headache and indigestion."
"More Yankee humor, Major?"
Pitt let a slight grin touch his face. "Yankee sarcasm," he said.
"The prime reason why we're so often misunderstood by people of other countries. The average American has a sarcastic streak down his back that defies intellicent comprehension." He sat down next to Tamareztov and produced the bottle of vodka. "For example, you before you the fruits of my trip to the corner liquor store."
