Riders of the Pale Horse Read Online Free PDF Page A

feet.
    â€œOh, my goodness, where are my manners.” Reverend Phillips waved a delicately veined hand at one of his rickety chairs. “Have a seat, won’t you. As big as you are, whenyou’re standing in these confines it doesn’t leave room for us to breathe.”
    Robards did as he was told. “Aren’t there any local doctors?”
    â€œNot any more,” Wade replied.
    â€œAll the professionals were Russians,” the parson explained. “Long before this uprising began, the Chechen made the local Russian population extremely nervous. They threatened them on the streets, in the markets, wherever. Those who had the opportunity to make a life for themselves elsewhere have long since departed.”
    â€œThey said it was because they wished to make the Chechen state truly Chechen,” Wade added. “But really it was just a way of robbing people. They forced the Russians to leave in a panic, then stole everything left behind, and sold rights to the empty apartments on the black market.”
    Robards nodded. It was a story as old as war. “I hear you have a problem.”
    â€œQuite a large one, actually. You see, there is this rather irritating little war just to the south of us.”
    â€œSeveral of them, if I’ve heard correctly.”
    â€œYes, well, for some reason known only to God and unnamed officials in London, we have been selected as a dropoff point for medicines intended for a Red Cross center that serves stranded villages.”
    â€œWhere?”
    He waved a vague hand toward distant blue-clad mountains beyond his window. “Somewhere in the Caucasus. I’m sure I don’t know where, exactly.”
    â€œIn the highlands, near Carcash,” Wade said quietly. “In the tribal borderlands between Georgia, Ossetia, and Russia.”
    â€œNot a healthy place to be raising a family just now,” Robards offered.
    â€œAs you can see,” the parson interjected, “that leaves us with quite a problem. There were supposed to be some peoplecoming down from the center to collect these medicines. They are five weeks overdue—”
    â€œNine,” Wade corrected mildly.
    The parson shot him an irritated glance. “What it all boils down to, Mr. Robards, is we have a large portion of our mission space going to medicines that are not ours in the first place.”
    â€œI’m afraid they’re in trouble,” Wade said, his eyes on his shoes.
    â€œNonsense,” the parson snapped. “No doubt they are simply too busy to come down and see to things. Either that or they already have everything they require.”
    â€œI’ve sent three messages up by local transport,” Wade persisted softly. “I haven’t heard anything back.”
    The little parson looked ready to boil over. Robards interrupted with, “Just how much medicine are we talking about?”
    It was Wade who answered. “Three tons. About two truck-loads. Mostly medicine, but there’s a spare generator and equipment for a portable surgery.”
    â€œBe that as it may,” Reverend Phillips snapped, “what is important is that I simply cannot permit this massive pile of goods intended for someone else to continue to clutter my establishment. You cannot imagine the problems this amount of goods has caused. I have had to spend simply staggering sums for twenty-four-hour guards.”
    â€œSpeaking of which,” Robards interrupted smoothly. “You gentlemen might work out of the goodness of your hearts, but I operate from baser means.”
    A gleam of hope appeared in the parson’s eyes. “Then you will deliver it?”
    â€œIf we can work out a suitable arrangement,” Robards replied, “I don’t see why not.”
    â€œWe were also left a certain sum intended for the Red Cross center,” Reverend Phillips said. “If we continue to wait for these miscreants to arrive, the guards will