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Updated: June 29, 2025
A few branches and the big blocks of pumice would suffice for temporary camouflage. Later they could make something better. Anything in the jeep which might be useful was cached along with the radiation suits in the passageway through the lava wall and in a surprisingly short time they were heading homeward. Kennon was not too displeased. Tomorrow they would be able to enter the ship.
The stinking coat had landed on the top of a small bush, about ten feet in front of the jeep and ten feet from the ground. The nighthound, erect on its haunches, was reaching out with its front paws to drag it down, and slashing angrily at it with its single-clawed intermediary limbs. Its back was to Verkan Vall.
In the end, I didn't want to argue with them it was cold, exceedingly wet, and I was already going to be late for the concert. So CJ helped me load the mortally wounded conifer into my trunk. We groped around for the twine, but couldn't find it, so he battened down the lid with his girlfriend's belt. She had high-tailed it back into the Jeep to wait for him out of the rain.
"Fifth Street and Main Street." Rick thanked him and the boys walked out into the brilliant sunlight. "Feel up to getting the jeep?" Rick asked. The boys had taken off from New York shortly after midnight and had ridden all night on a plane that, as Scotty had said, "landed in every cow pasture west of Chicago." They had not slept much. "Let's get the jeep," Scotty replied.
"What's going on here?" said one, who was wearing a sergeant's stripes. The jeep had the words BEACH PATROL stenciled on it in white paint. "We just nailed these two Brungarian frogmen," Bud explained. "A sub put them ashore probably as spies or saboteurs. They won't talk to us, but maybe you can pump them at headquarters." The startled sergeant turned a cold eye on the two prisoners.
Tomorrow they would probably have some of the answers to his questions. He looked ahead into the gathering night. The gray mass of the abandoned Olympus Station slipped below them as he lined the jeep along the path indicated by the luminous arrow atop the main building, set the controls on automatic, and locked the craft on the guide beacon in Alexandria's tower.
There must have been close to five thousand men, by now, and those who couldn't crowd onto vehicles marched on foot, and the whole mass, looking a little more like an army than a mob, started up Broadway. Since it is not proper for reporters to loot on the job, I had gotten outside in my jeep early and was going ahead, swinging my camera back to get the parade behind me.
Except for a few brief catnaps in the jeep, he had been awake continuously for forty-eight tense hours. Scotty scratched his head. "There are a few buildings we haven't searched yet." "No, but they wouldn't be in those. If the men were going to leave them here, they'd drop them nearby and not hide them in one of the distant buildings. But I suppose we'd better look, anyway." "We'd better.
Rick shook his head. "Positively not. It's been checked out from nose to fins, and guarded every minute." Scotty started the jeep motor. "I'd better get out of here. Good luck." The jeep roared off. Rick turned for a last look at close range, and his eyes traveled up and up, from the stabilizing fins past the wings to the nose cone. Pegasus was ready.
"How are you going to pay for it?" "Cash. Either repair it, or knock off the cost of repairs, and it's a deal." "You named it. We'll knock off the repair costs." In another hour the jeep was theirs and the boys had obtained a vehicle registration and Nevada driver's licenses. As they drove to the hotel, Rick asked, "Is it really in good shape?" "Not bad.
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