Текст книги "The Seventh Scroll"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

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Текущая страница: 40 (всего у книги 42 страниц)

Although he was cold and stiff and his shoulders ached and his palms

were blistered from wrestling with the steering oar, he could not find

sleep as readily as she had.

Now that the prospect of reaching the airstrip at Roseires loomed

closer, he was troubled by problems other than those of simply

navigating the river and battling his way  Wot through Nogo's men. Those

were enemies he could recognize and fight; but there was something more

than that which he would soon have to face.

Royan stirred in his arrns and muttered something he could not catch.

She was dreaming and talking in her sleep.

He held her gently and she settled down. again. He had started to drift

off himself when she spoke again, this time quite clearly. "I am sorry,

Nicky. Don't hate me for it.

I couldn't let you-' her words slurred and he could make no sense of the

rest of it.

He was fully awake now, her words aggravating his doubts and misgivings.

During the rest of that night he slept only intermittently, and his rest

was troubled by dreams as distressing as hers must have been to hern the

pre-dawn darkness he shook Royan gently.

She moaned and came awake slowly and reluctantly.

They bolted down a few mouthfuls of the cold rations that remained from

the previous night. Then, as dawn lit the gorge just enough for them to

see the surface of the river and the obstacles ahead, they pushed off

from their moorings and the yellow boats strung out down the current.

The battle against the river began all over again.

The cloud cover was still low and unbroken, and the rain squalls swept

over them at intervals. They kept going all that morning, and slowly the

mood of the river began to ameliorate. The current was not so swift and

treacherous, and the banks not so high and rugged.

It was midafternoon and the clouds were still closed in solidly overhead

as they entered a stretch where the river threaded itself through a

series of bluffs and headlands, and they came upon another set of

rapids. Perhaps Nicholas was more expert in his technique by now, for

they swept through them without mishap, and it seemed to him that each

stretch of white water was progressively less severe than the last.

"I think we are through the worst of it now," he told Royan as she sat

on the deck below him. "The gradient and the fall of the river are

definitely more gentle now. I think it is flattening out as we approach

the plains of the Sudan."

"How much further to Roseires?" she asked.

"I don't know, but the border can't be too far ahead now."

Nicholas and Mek were keeping the flotilla closed up in line astern, so

that orders could be shouted across the gaps between them and all the

boats kept under their command.

Nicholas steered for the deeper water on the outside of the next wide

bend, and as he came through it he saw that the stretch of river ahead

seemed open and altogether free of rapids or shoals. He relaxed and

smiled at Royan.

"How about lunch at the Dorchester grill next Sunday?

Best roast beef trolley in London."

He thought he saw a shadow pass across her eyes before she smiled

brightly and replied, "Sounds good to me., "And afterwards we can go

back home and curl up in front of the telly and watch Match of the Day,

or play our 01" little match."

"You are rude," she laughed, "but it does sound tempting."

He was about to stoop over her, and kiss her for the pleasure of

watching her blush again, when he saw the dance of tiny white fountains

spurting up ftorn the surface of the river ahead of their bows, coming

swiftly towards, them. Then, moments later, he heard the crackle of

automatic fire, the distinctive sound of a Soviet RPD.

He threw himself down over the top of Royan, covering her with his own

body, and heard Mek bellowing from the boat behind them.

'411111%awOv .AL.

"Return fire! Keep their heads down."

His men threw down their paddles and seized their weapons. They blazed

away towards the inner curve of the bank from where the attack was

coming.

The attackers were completely concealed amongst the rocks and scrub, and

there was no definite target to shoot at. However, in an ambush like

this it was essential to lay down as heavy a covering fire as possible,

to keep the attackers' heads down and to upset their aim.

A bullet tore through the nylon skin of the Avon close to Royan's head

and went on to lam into one of the metal offered  ammunition crates. The

sides of their craft 0 protection at all from the heavy fusillade that

lashed them.

One of their crew was hit in the head. The bullet cut the top off his

skull like the shell of a soft'boiled egg, and he was flung over the

side. Royan screamed more with horro.

than with fear, while Nicholas snatched up the assault rifle that the

dead man had dropped and emptied the magazine towards the bank, firing

short taps of three and raking the scrub that concealed their attackers.

The Avon still raced downstream on the current, spiralling aimlessly as

she lost direction without the steering oar. It took them less than' a

minute to be carried past the ambush and around the next bend of the

river.

Nicholas dropped the empty rifle and shouted across at Mek, "Are you all

right?"

"One man hit here," Mek yelled back. "Not too bad." Each of the boats

reported their casualties: a total of one dead and three wounded. None

of the wounded was in a serious condition, and although three of the

boats had been holed, the hulls were made up of watertight compartments

and were all still floating high.

Mek steered his Avon alongside Nicholas's and called across. "I was

beginning to think we had given Nogo the slip."

"We got off lightly that time," Nicholas called back.

"We probably took them by surprise. They weren't expecting us to be on

the water."

"Well, no more surprises for him now. You can bet they are on the radio

already. Nogo knows exactly where we are and where we are headed." He

looked up at the cloud. "We can only hope the cloud stays thick and

low."

"How much further to the Sudanese border?"

"Not sure, but it can't be more than another couple of hours."

"Is the crossing guarded?" Nicholas asked.

"No. Nothing there. Just empty bush on both sides."

"Let's hope it stays empty," Nicholas muttered.

Within thirty minutes of the fire-fight, they heard the helicopter

again. It was flying above the clouds, and as they listened it passed

overhead, but out of sight, and headed on downstream. Twenty minutes

later they heard it again, coming back in the opposite direction, and

shortly after that it flew downstream again, still above the cloud.

"What the hell is Nogo playing at?" Mek called across to Nicholas.

"Sounds as though he is patrolling the river, but he can't get under the

cloud."

"My guess is that he is ferrying men downstream to cut us off. Now he

knows we are using boats, he also knows that we can only head in one

direction. Nogo isn't one to worry about international borders. He may

even have realized by now that we are heading for Roseires. It's the

nearest unmanned airstrip along the river. He could be waiting for us

when we try to land., Mek steered his Avon closer and passed a line

across, tying the two boats together so that they could talk in normal

tones.

"I don't like it, Nicholas. We are going to walk right into them again.

What do you suggest?"

Nicholas pondered for a long minute. "Don't you recognize this part of

the river? Don't you know precisely where we are yet?"

Mek shook his head. "I always keep well away from the river when we

cross the border, but I will recognize the old sugar'mill at Roseires

when we get there. It's about three miles upstream from the airstrip."

"DesertedT Nicholas asked.

"Yes. Abandoned ever since the war began twenty years ago."

"With this cloud cover, it will be dark in an hour," Nicholas said. "The

river is slower now and not so dangerous. We can take a chance and keep

on going after dark.

Perhaps Nogo won't expect that. We might be able to give him the slip in

the dark."

"Is that the best you can do?" Mek chuckled. "As a plan it sounds to me

a bit like closing your eyes and hoping for the best."

"Well, if somebody could tell me where the hell we are, and what time

Jannie will arrive tomorrow, I might be able to come up with something a

bit more specific." Nicholas grinned back at him. "Until that happens, I

am flying by the seat of my pants."

All of them were tense with strung-out nerves as they paddled on into

the premature dusk beneath the thick blanket of cloud and rain. Even in

the gathering darkness the crew kept their weapons cocked and locked,

trained on either bank of the river, ready to return fire instantly.

"We must have crossed the border an hour ago," Mek called to Nicholas.

"The old sugar mill can't be far ahead."

"In the dark, how will you find it?"

"There is the remains of an old stone jetty on the bank, from which the

riverboats taking the sugar down to Khartoum used to load."

Night came down upon them abruptly, and Nicholas felt a sense of relief

as the river banks receded into the murk and the darkness hid them from

hostile eyes ashore.

As soon as it was fully dark they lashed the boats -together to prevent

them becoming separated and then let the river carry them on silently,

keeping so close in to the right hand bank that they ran aground more

than once, and some of the men had to slip over the side and push them

out into deeper water.

The stone piers of the jetty at Roseires sprang out at them

unexpectedly, and Nicholas's leading Avon slammed into them before he

could steer clear. However, the crew were ready and they jumped over the

side into chest-deep water and dragged the boat to the bank. Immediately

Mek leaped ashore and, with twenty of his men, spread out into the

overgrown canefields along the bank to secure the area and prevent a

surprise attack by Nogo's men.

There was confusion and more noise than Nicholas felt was safe as the

rest of the flotilla beached, and they began to bring the wounded ashore

and unload the cargo of ammunition cases. Nicholas piggybacked Royan to

the bank and then waded back to fetch Tessay. She was much stronger by

now. The enforced rest during the voyage down river had given her a

chance to recover, and she stood up unaided in the Avon and climbed on

to Nicholas's shoulders to be brought ashore.

Once on dry ground he let her slide down on to her own feet and asked

her quietly, "How are you feeling?"

"I will be all right now, thank you, Nicholas," He supported her for a

moment while she recovered her balance and said quickly, "I did not have

a chance to ask earlier. What about Royan's message that she asked you

to telephone from Debra Maryam? Did you get it through for her?

"Yes, of course," Tessay replied guilelessly. "I told Royan that I had

given her message to Moussad at the Egyptian Embassy. Didn't she tell

you?"

Nicholas winced as though he had taken a low punch, but he smiled and

kept his tone casual. "It must have slipped her mind. Not important,

anyway. But thanks nevertheless, Tessay."

PM-Om At that moment Mek came striding out of the darkness and spoke in

a harsh whisper. "This sounds like a camel market. Nogo will hear us

from five miles away." Quickly 3. he took command and started to

organize the shore party Once the last of the ammunition crates were

unloaded, they dragged the boats into the canefields and unscrewed the

valves that deflated the pontoons. Then they piled cane trash over them.

Still working in the dark they distributed the cargo of ammunition

crates amongst Mck's men. Sapper took a case under each arm. Nicholas

slung the radio over one shoulder and his emergency pack over the other,

and balanced on his head the case that contained Pharaoh's golden

death-mask and the Taita ushabti.

Mek sent his scouts forward to sweep the route out to the airstrip and

make certain that they did not run into an ambush. Then he took the

point and the rest of them strung out in Indian file along the rough,

overgrown track behind him. Before they had covered a mile the clouds

suddenly opened overhead, and the crescent moon and the stars showed

through and gave them enough light to make out the chimneystack of the

ruined mill against the night sky.

But even with this moonlight their progress was slow and broken ses, by

long pau for the stretcher-bearers carrying the wounded had difficulty

keeping up. By the time they reached the airstrip it was after three in

the morning and the moon had set. They stacked the ammunition cases in

the same grove of acacia trees at the end of the runway where they had

cached the pallets of dam-building equipment and the yellow tractor on

the inward journey.

Although they were all exhausted by this time, Mek set out his pickets

around the camp. The two women tended the wounded, working by the light

of a small screened fire as they used up the last of Mek's medical

supplies.

Sapper used the one electric torch whose batteries still held a charge,

and he gave Nicholas a discreet screened light while he set up the radio

and strung the aerial.

Nicholas's relief was intense when he opened the fibreglass case and

found that, despite its dunking in the Nile, the rubber gasket that

seated the lid had kept the radio dry.

When he switched on the power, the pilot light lit up. He tuned in to

the shortwave frequency and picked up the early morning commercial

transmission of Radio Nairobi.

Yvonne Chaka Chaka was singing; he liked her voice and her style. But he

quickly switched off the set so as to conserve the battery, and settled

back against the hole of the acacia tree to try and get a little rest

before daylight broke. However, sleep eluded him – his sense of betrayal

and anger were too strong.

uma Nogo watched the sun push its great fiery head out of the surface of

the Nile ahead of them. They were flying only feet above the water to

keep under the Sudanese military radar trans missions. He knew there was

a radar station at Khartoum that might be able to pick them up, even at

this range.

Relations with the Sudanese were strained, and he could expect a quick

and savage response if they discovered that he had violated their

border.

Nogo was a confused and worried man. Since the d6bdcle in the gorge of

the Dandera river everything had run strongly against him. He had lost

all his allies. Until they were gone he had not realized how heavily he

had come to rely on both Helm and von Schiller. Now he was on his own

and he had already made many mistakes.

But despite all this he was determined to pursue the fugitives, and to

run them down no matter how far he had to intrude into Sudanese

territory. Over the past weeks it had gradually dawned'upon Nogo, mostly

by eavesdropping on the conversations of von Schiller and the  jr

Egyptian, that Harper and Mek Nimmur were in possession of treasure of

immense value. His imagination could barely asp the enormity of it, but

he had heard others speak of gr tens of millions of dollars. Even a

million dollars was a sum so vast that his mind had difficulty

assimilating it, but he I i had a vague inkling as to what it might mean

in earthly terms, of the possessions and women and luxuries it could

buy.

Equally slowly it had dawned upon him that, now that Von Schiller and

Helm were gone, this treasure could be his alone; there was no longer

any other person to stand in his way, other than the fleeing shufta led

by Mek Nimmur and the Englishman. And he had overwhelming force on his

side and the helicopter at his command.

if only he could pin the fugitives down, Nogo was certain he could wipe

them out. There must be no survivors, no one to carry tales to Addis.

After Mek and the Englishman and all their followers were dead it would

be a simple matter to spirit his booty out of the country in the

helicopter. There was a man in Nairobi and another in Khartoum whom he

had dealt with before; they had bought contraband ivory and hashish from

him. They would know how to market the booty to best advantage, although

they were both devious men. He had already decided that he would not

trust it all to one person but would spread the risk, so that even if

one of them betrayed and cheated him His mind raced off on another tack,

and he savoured the thought of great riches and what they could buy for

him. He would have fine clothes and motor cars, land and cattle and

women – white women and black and brown, all the women he could use, a

new one for every day of his life. He broke off his greedy daydreams.

First he had to find where the runaways had vanished to.

He had not realized that Harper and Mek Nimmur had inflatable boats

hidden somewhere near the monastery.

Hansith had not informed him of that fact. He and Helm had expected them

to try to escape on foot, and all the plans to head them off before they

could reach the Sudanese border had been based on that assumption. On

Helm's orders, he had even set up a reserve fuel dump near the border

where they expected Mek Nimmur to cross, from which they could refuel

the helicopter. Without those supplies of fuel he would long ago have

been forced to give up the chase.

Nogo had placed his men to cover the trails leading along the river bank

towards the west, and he had not even considered guarding the river

itself. It was quite by chance that one of his patrols had been in a

position to spot the flotilla of yellow boats as they came racing

downstream. However, there had not been enough warning to enable them to

set up an effective ambush, and they had been able to fire on the boats

only briefly before they escaped. They had not inflicted serious damage

on any of the boats – at least, not enough to stop them getting through.

Immediately the company commander had radioed his report of this contact

with Mek Nimmur, Nogo had started ferrying men downstream to the

Sudanese border to cut off the flotilla. Unfortunately, the Jet Ranger

could carry no more than six fully armed men at a time, and transporting

them had been a time-consuming business. He had only succeeded in

bringing sixty of his men into position before night had fallen.

During the night he fretted that the flotilla was slipping past him, and

with the dawn they were in the air again. Fortunately the cloud had

broken up during the night. There was still some high cumulus overhead,

but they were now able to fly low along the river and search for any

sign of Mek Nimmur's flotilla.

They had first flown back along the river on the Ethiopian side of the

border, as far as the point where Mek Nimmur and Harper had been fired

upon. They had picked up no sign of the boats, so Nogo had forced the

pilot to turn back, cross the border and search the Sudanese stretch the

Nile. But Nogo had only been able to persuade his pilot to penetrate

sixty nautical miles along the Nile into the Sudan before the man had

rebelled. Despite the Tokarev pistol that Nogo held to his head, he had

banked the jet Ranger into a 180-degree turn and headed back low along

the river.

By now Nogo knew he had been defeated and ourwitd. He brooded unhappily

in the front seat of the helicopter ter beside the pilot, trying to

fathom out what had happened to his quarry. He saw the tall smokestack

of the abandoned sugar-mill at Roseires poking up into the early morning

sky, and he glowered at it angrily. They had passed the mill only a

short while before on their way downstream.

"Turn in towards the north bank," he ordered the pilot, and the man

hesitated and glanced at him before he obeyed..

They passed directly over the building, flying lower than the chimney.

The factory was roofless and the windows were empty rectangles in the

broken walls. The boilers and machinery had been removed twenty years

previously, and Nogo could look into the empty shell. The pilot hovered

the aircraft while Nogo peered down, but there was no place where anyone

could hide, and Nogo shook his head.

"Nothing! We have lost them. Head back upstream." The pilot lifted the

machine's nose and turned away towards the river, obeying the order with

alacrity. As the aircraft banked steeply, Nogo was looking down directly

into the overgrown canefields verging the river when a flash of bright

yellow caught his eye.

"Waid' he shouted into his mike. "There is something 9 there. Go back!'

The helicopter hovered over the field, and Nogo gestured urgently

downwards. "Down! Put us down."

As soon as the skids touched the earth, the stick of six heavily armed

troopers dived out of the rear cabin and raced out to take up defensive

positions. Nogo clambered out of the front door and ran into the

overgrown bed of tall cane. One look was all he needed. The yellow boats

had been deflated and folded and hastily covered. The earth around them

had been churned up by booted feet.

The tracks led away inland. The men who had made them had been heavily

laden, for they had trodden deeply into the soft, sandy earth.

Nogo ran back to the helicopter and thrust his head in through the open

cabin door. "Is there an airstrip near here?" he shouted at the pilot,

who shook his head.

"There is nothing shown on the chart,, "There must have been one. The

sugar'mill would have had a strip."

"If there was one, it must have been decommissioned years ago.

"We will find it,'Nogo declared. "Mek Nimmur's tracks will lead us to

it." He sobered immediately. "But I will have to bring up more men.

judging by his spoor, Mek Nimmur has at least fifty of his shufta with

him."

He left his men at the sugar-mill and flew back to the border with an

empty rear cabin to pick up the first load of reinforcements.

'ñDig Dolly! Come in, Big Dolly. This is Pharaoh.

Do you read?" Nicholas put out his first call an MD hour before sunrise.

"If I know the way jannie's mind works, and I should, he would plan to

make his approach flight in darkness and arrive here as soon as there is

enough light to pick up the strip and land."

7L 111.7– 7 -7

"If the Fat Man comes," Mek Nimmur qualified.

"He will come," said Nicholas confidently. "Jannie has never let me down

yet." He thumbed the microphone and called again: "Big Dolly! Come in,

Big Dolly."

The static hummed softly, and Nicholas retuned the set carefully. He

called again every fifteen minutes as they huddled around the set in the

dark under the acacia trees.

Suddenly Royan started to her feet and exclaimed excitedly, "There he

is. I can hear Big Dolly's engines.

Listen!'

Nicholas and Mek ran out into the open, and turned their faces upwards,

looking into the north.

Nicholas exclaimed sud

"That's not the Hercules, denly. "That's another machine." He turned and

faced southwards, towards the river. "Anyway, it's coming from the wrong

direction."

"You are right," Mek agreed. "That's a single engine, and it's not a

fixed wing. You can hear the rotors."

"The Pegasus helicopter!" Nicholas exclaimed bitterly.

"They are on to us again."

As they listened, the sound of the rotors faded.

Nicholas looked relieved. "They missed us. They can't have IR spotted

the Avons."

They trooped back under the cover of the acacias, and Nicholas called

again on the radio, but there was no reply from Jannie.

Twenty minutes later they heard the sound of the jet Ranger returning,

and they monitored it anxiously.

"Gone again," said Nicholas after a while, but then twenty minutes later

they heard it yet again.

"Nogo is up to something out there,'Mek said uneasily.

"What do you think it is?" Nicholas was infected by his mood. When Mek

worried, there was usually a damned good reason to worry.

"I don't know," Mek admitted. "Perhaps Nogo has spotted the Avbns and is

bringing up more men before he comes after us." He went out into the

open and listened intently, then came back to where Nicholas crouched

over the radio.

"Keep calling," he said. "I am going out to the perimeter to make

certain my men are ready to hold Nogo off if he comes., The helicopter

moved up and down the Nile at'short intervals during the next three

hours, but the lack of any further developments lulled them, and

Nicholas barely looked up from the radio each time they heard the

distant beat of the rotors. Suddenly the radio crackled, and Nicholas

started violently at the shock.

"Pharaoh! This is Big Dolly. Do you read?"

Nicholas's voice bubbled over with relief as he replied, "This is

Pharaoh. Speak sweet words to me, Big Dolly."

"ETA your position one hour thirty minutes." jannie's accent was

unmistakable.

"You will be very welcome!" Nicholas promised him fervently.

He hung up the microphone and beamed at the two women, "Jannie is on his

way, and he will-'

He broke off and his smile shrivelled to an expression of dismay. From

the direction of the river came the unmistakable rattle of AK-47 rapid

fire, followed a few seconds later by the crump of an exploding grenade.

"Oh, dammit to hell!" he groaned. "I thought it was too good to last.

Nogo has arrived."

He picked up the mike again and spoke into it expressionlessly. "Big

Dolly! The uglies have arrived on the scene. It's going to have to be a

hot extraction."

"Hang on to your crown, Pharaoh!" jannie's voice floated back. "I am on

my way."

During the next half-hour the sounds of the fighting along the river

intensified until the rattle of small-arms fire was almost continuous,

and gradually it crept closer to the far end of the airstrip. It was

clear that Mek's men, spread , out thinly along the river end of the

strip, were falling back before the thrust of Nogo's men. And every

twenty minutes or so there was'the sound of the returning helicopter, as

it ferried another stick of men to increase the pressure on Mek's scanty

defence.

Nicholas and Sapper were the only ablebodied men left in the acacia

grove, for all the others had gone out to defend the perimeter. The two

of them moved the ammunition crates to the edge of the trees, where they

could be loaded in haste once the Hercules landed.

Nicholas sorted out the cargo, reading the contents of each crate from

the notations on the lids in Royan's handwriting. The crate containing

the death -mask and the Taita ushabd would be the first to go aboard,

followed by the three crowns– the blue war crown, the Nemes crown and

the red and white crown of the united kingdoms of upper and lower Egypt.

The value of those three crates probably exceeded that of all the rest

of the treasure combined.

Once the cargo had been taken care of, Nicholas went down the row of

wounded men and spoke to each of them in turn. First, he thanked them

for their help and sacrifice, red to take them out on the Hercules to

and then offed where they could receive proper medical attention. He

mised each of them that, if they accepted the offer, he pro would see to

it . -lat once they had recovered from their wounds they could return to

Ethiopia.

Seven of them – those who were less seriously wounded and were able to

walk – refused to leave Mek Nimmur.

Their loyalty was a touching demonstration of the high regard in which

Mek was held by his men. The others reluctantly agreed to be evacuated,

but only after Tessay had intervened and added her assurances to

Nicholas's.

Then he and Sapper carried them to the point at the edge of the grove

where jannie would halt Big Dolly for the pick'up.

"What about you?" Nicholas asked Tessay. "Are you coming out with us?

You are still in pretty bad shape."

Tessay laughed. "While I can still stand on my two feet, I will never

leave Mek Nimmur."

"I can't understand what you see in that old rogue," Nicholas laughed

with her. "I have -spoken to Mek. He wants me to take his share of the

booty with me. He won't be able to carry any extra luggage at the

moment."

"Yes, I know. Mek and I discussed it. We need the money to continue the

struggle here."

She broke off and ducked involuntarily, as a stunning explosion cracked

in their eardrums and a tall column of dust leaped into the air close to

the edge of the grove.

Shrapnel whistled over their heads and twigs and leaves rained down on

them.

sweet Mary! What was that?" Tessay cried.

"Two-inch mortar,'said Nicholas. He had not moved, nor made any attempt

to take cover. "More bark than bite.

Nogo must have brought it in with his last flight."

"When will the Hercules get here?"

"I'll give jannie a call, and ask him."

As Nicholas sauntered over to the radio set Tessay whispered to Royan,

"Are you English always so cooV

"Don't Ask me – I' mostly Egyptian, and I am terrified." Royan smiled

easily and put her arm around Tessay. "I am going to miss you, Lady

Sun."

"Perhaps we will meet again in happier times." Tessay turned her head

and kissed her impulsively, and Royan hugged her hard.

"I hope so. I hope so with all my heart."

Nicholas spoke into the microphone. "Big Dolly, this is Pharaoh. "What

is your position now?"

"Pharaoh, we are twenty minutes out, and hurrying.

Did you have baked beans for dinner or is that mortar fire I hear in the

background?"

"With your wit you should have gone on the stage,'

Nicholas told him. "The uglies have control of the south end of the

strip. Make your approach from the north. The wind is wester rly at

about five knots. So any way you come in, it will be cross-wirid.

"Roger, Pharaoh. How many passengers and cargo do YOU have for me?"

"Passengers are six cas-evac plus three, Cargo is fifty-two crates,

about a quarter of a ton weight."

"Hardly worth coming all this way for so little, Pharaoh."

"Big Dolly. Be advised, there is another aircraft in the circuit. A jet

Ranger helter. Colour green and red. It 1cop is a hostile, but unarmed."

"Roger, Pharaoh. I will call again on finals."

the two women were Nicholas went back to where waiting with the wounded.

"Not long now," he told them cheerfully. He had to raise his voice to

make himself heard above the din of mortar bursts and rapid small'arms

fire.

"Just enough time for a cup of tea," he said. He pushed a few twigs into

the embers of the previous night's fire, then rummaged in his small

emergency pack for the last of his tea bags while Sapper placed the

smoke-blackened billycan back on the burgeoning flames.

They only had one mug between them. "Girls first," said Nicholas,