Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 29, 2025
On the sixth day of their stay in Las Vegas, Lomac called. The boys hurried to the office and were told they could report to the base personnel office at once. They were given a map showing the location of the base. Scarlet Lake, they learned, was about two hours' drive northwest of Las Vegas. They packed hurriedly, checked out, and loaded the jeep.
The jeep left a trail of dust behind it, but he could see no dust from any other vehicle. Apparently they were well ahead of Big Mac and Pancho. He hoped they would stay ahead. "If Mac and Pancho do catch up," he said thoughtfully, "we can always say we just came out for the ride, to see a little of the country." Scotty gave him a sideways glance. "Think they'd buy it?" "Could be.
Tom nodded and braked the jeep to a screeching halt. "Coast Guard too. They can pass the word to commercial shipping to be on the lookout." A telephone rang as he hurried into the office. "For you," the clerk said, looking up at Tom. "Nice timing!" Tom grabbed the phone. His face widened into a grin. "Bud! You seagoing jet stream! What happened?" Arv grinned, too, in relief.
I saw one of the teachers I'd gone to school to a few years ago, and Joe Kivelson's wife, and Oscar Fujisawa's current girl friend, and Sigurd Ngozori's secretary, and farther off there was an equally improvised coffee-and-sandwich stand. I grounded the jeep, and Murell and I got out and went over to the headquarters. Joe Kivelson seemed to be in charge.
As the road gradually curved around a rock outcropping, he said, "Look behind and tell me when the town is out of sight." Rick turned in his seat in time to see Steamboat vanish behind the outcropping. "Now." Scotty brought the jeep to a halt. "The road should fork pretty soon, shouldn't it?" "That's right. Left fork to Pahrump Valley, right fork to Death Valley." "Let's hit the ditch."
Here, it was cool again, although Seattle was milder than Maine. He locked the Jeep and walked nervously along a sidewalk. He crossed a street and passed several houses surrounded by large hedges. Children called. He stopped. Francesca was standing at the edge of an elevated lawn in front of the next house. Her back was to him. A tall man stood next to her, his arm around her shoulders.
Scotty stopped the jeep and they surveyed the countryside with care. There was no sign of movement, no sign of a dust cloud from any other vehicle. The sun was low in the west. In a short time it would be out of sight beyond the mountains, then darkness would close in. Rick reached into the jeep's glove compartment and found the flashlight he had stowed there.
"You're full of suggestions." "I was thinking that we could go on a picnic." "A what?" "A picnic. Take a lunch and go somewhere in the jeep. Maybe up into the hills. I think it might be fun." "Why not?" Kennon agreed. "At least it would break the monotony. Tell you what. You run up to the house and tell Kara to pack a lunch and we'll take the day off." "Good! I hoped you'd say that.
The captain laughed and gunned the motor, started straight for the men blocking the road. Then Jack Mario shot a hole in his front tire. The jeep lurched to a stop. Captain Varga stood up, glaring at the men. "Farnam, step out here," he said. "You heard us," Pete said, without moving. "Crops, yes. We'll try to increase our yield. But no overseer. Leave him here and we'll kill him."
Whenever the lotion-soaked towel touched raw skin, a pain like the burn of a hot iron shot through him; before he was through, he was in agony. Satisfied that he had disinfected every wound, he dropped the towel and clung weakly to the side of the jeep.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking