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.Adam staggered across the road to join them."Are you all right?" Adam heard one of them ask but he could hardly make out which one as his eyes had not yet become accustomed to the darkness."No, I'm not," Adam explained simply."I drank too much wine at lunch and because of a cycle race the road is just crawling with police.I'm sure to be picked up if I go much further.Can either of you drive?""I only have my Canadian licence," said the taller of the two youths."And in any case we are heading for Paris and your car is facing the opposite direction.""It's a Hertz Rent-a-Car," Adam explained."I picked it up on the Rue St Ferdinand this morning, and I have to return it by seven tonight.I don't think I can make it in my present state."The two young men looked at him apprehensively."I will give you both one hundred francs if you will return it safely for me.You see I can't afford to lose my licence, I'm a commercial traveller," Adam explained.Neither of them spoke."My papers are all in order, I can assure you." Adam handed them over to the taller man who crossed back over the road and used the car lights to study Albert Tomkins's licence and insurance before carying on a conversation with his friend.Adam could hear the helicopter blades whirling above the tunnel entrance."We don't need the hundred francs," the taller one said eventually."But we will need a note from you explaining why we are returning the car to Hertz in Paris on your behalf." Adam pulled out the colonel's pen and, feeling remarkably sober, he bent over the hood of the car and scribbled on the back of the Hertz agreement."Do you want to come back to Paris with us?"Adam hesitated fractionally.Couldn't they hear the noise too? "No.I have to get to Boulogne.""We could drive you to Boulogne and still have enough time to take the car to Paris.""No, no.That's very considerate.I can take care of myself as long as I feel confident that the car will be delivered back as soon as possible."The taller one shrugged while his companion opened a rear door and threw their rucksacks on the back seat.Adam remained in the tunnel while they started up the engine.He could hear the purr of the helicopter blades change cadence: it had to be descending to land in a nearby field.Go, go, for God's sake go, he wanted to shout as the car shot forward towards Boulogne.He watched them travel down the road for about a hundred yards before turning in at a farm entrance, reversing, and heading back towards the tunnel.They tooted as they passed him in the dark, disappearing in the direction of Paris.Adam sank down on to his knees with relief and was about to pick himself up and start walking towards Boulogne when he saw two figures silhouetted at the far entrance of the tunnel.Against the clear blue sky he could make out the outline of two tall, thin men.They stood peering into the tunnel.Adam didn't move a muscle, praying they hadn't spotted him.And then suddenly one of them started walking towards him, while the other remained motionless.Adam knew he could not hope to escape again.He knelt there cursing his own stupidity.In seconds they would be able to see him clearly."Don't let's waste any more valuable time, Marvin, we already know that the limey bastard's heading back to Paris.""I just thought perhaps." began the one called Marvin in a Southern drawl."Leave the thinking to me.Now let's get back to the chopper before we lose him."When Marvin was only twenty yards away from Adam he suddenly stopped, turned around and began running back.Adam remained rooted to the spot for several minutes.A cold, clammy sweat had enveloped his body the moment he realised his latest pursuer was not Romanov.If one of them hadn't referred to him as a 'limey bastard', Adam would have happily given himself up.Suddenly he had become painfully aware of the diflerence between fact and fiction: he had been left with no friends.Adam did not move again until he heard the helicopter rise above him.Peering out, he could see outlined against the arc of the tunnel the Americans heading back in the direction of Paris.He staggered outside and put a hand across his eyes.The sunlight seemed much fiercer than a few minutes before.What next? He had less than an hour to catch the boat but no longer had any transport.He wasn't sure whether to thumb lifts, search for a bus stop, or simply get as far away from the main road as possible.His eyes were continually looking up into the sky.How long before they reached the car, and realised it was not him inside?Cyclists began to pass him again as he jogged slowly towards Boulogne.He kept on moving, and even found enough strength to cheer the British competitors as they pedalled by.The British team van followed close behind and Adam gave it the thumbs-up sign.To his surprise the van came to a halt in front of him.The driver wound down the window."Weren't you the fellow who stopped me back in Abbeville?""That's right," said Adam."Has your man recovered?""No, he's resting in the back - pulled ligament.What happened to your car?""Broke down about a mile back," said Adam, shrugging philosophically."Bad luck.Can I give you a lift?" the man asked."We're only going as far as Boulogne on this stage, but jump in if it will help.""Thank you," said Adam, with the relief of a bearded beatnik who has found the one person willing to stop to pick him up.The driver leaned across and pushed open the door for him.Before climbing in, Adam shielded his eyes and once more looked up into the sky.The helicopter was nowhere to be seen - although he knew it couldn't be long before it returned.They would quickly work out that there was only one place where the switch could possibly have been made."My name's Bob," said the track-suited driver, thrusting out his free hand."I'm the British team manager.""Mine's Adam." He shook the other's hand warmly."Where are you heading?""Boulogne," said Adam, "and with luck I could still make my crossing by three.""We should be there about two thirty," said Bob."We have to be: the afternoon stage starts at three.""Will your man be able to ride?" asked Adam, pointing over his shoulder."No, he won't be competing in this race again," said the team manager."He's pulled a ligament in the back of his leg, and they always take a couple of weeks to heal properly [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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