'Duclos,' Craig said, 'do as I say and he might live. Is there a flashlight in here?' Duclos nodded. 'Get it.'
St. Briac shouted 'No,' but Craig increased the pressure and Duclos obeyed, fumbling his way to a desk, producing a light at last.
'Switch it on the others,' said Craig, and again Duclos obeyed. 'Now throw your guns on the floor.' One by one the guns thudded down, and Craig struggled to resist the great waves of weakness that threatened to engulf him. Somewhere in the grounds was a man with a carbine and three killer dogs. That was up to Grierson. If he knew his stuff, they could still do the job they had come for. Meanwhile his business was to hold on to St. Briac.
The guard moved toward the villa, feeling his way through the unaccustomed blackness, his dogs ranging ahead of him. There was little chance that the generator had failed by accident. It was most probably the prelude to an attack. He had to go to the colonel for instructions. The dogs moved around the bole of a plane tree, a beautiful, flowing movement, and the guard swore at them, telling them to move on. Above him a branch rustled, a gun was stuck in his neck.
'They know their business,' Grierson said. 'No. Don't turn around. Stay still or I'll kill you.'
The guard froze, and Grierson went on. 'You can't reach me, so don't try it. Put down that carbine. I'll count three, and that's all. One-two-' The guard let it fall. 'Tell the dogs to come closer.' Again he was obeyed. The branch rustled once more, and Grierson was on the ground beside him.
'Now,' he said, 'we'll walk to the kennels.'
The gun barrel pushed inexorably, and the guard walked, telling himself that he would turn and fight after five meters-ten-twenty. But he was too frightened to turn; his imagination snowed him too vividly how the heavy bullet would slam into him, smashing his spine before the noise of its firing could reach him. He walked to the kennels and told the dogs to go inside the wired enclosure, then the gun barrel left his neck, descending on his head as he tried at last to turn, and Grierson pushed him inside, sprawling among the bowls of dog food. Grierson locked the kennel, raced back to the plane tree, picked up the carbine, and moved toward the villa.
Craig still clung to St. Briac, while the other four men watched, waiting for him to fall.
Grierson called out softly, 'This is Grierson, John.'
'About time,' said Craig. 'Get rid of this lot, will you?'
Grierson gestured with the carbine, and they walked upstairs in front of him.
At the top of the stairs La Valere stopped, and the others stopped too.
'Ah right, La Valere,' Grierson said, 'If you want to be a hero, you can turn around. Just you.' The others were still, and La Valere very slowly turned.
'Look at me,' said Grierson. 'If you try anything, anything at all, I'll kill the lot of you. With this thing,' he hefted the carbine, 'you couldn't even reach me. And I don't care whether you hve or die. Do you believe me?'
La Valere looked down into the black muzzle of the gun, knowing, hating the knowledge, that Grierson was beyond his reach. He was brave and he was stupid, but he did not want to die.
'Yes,' he said, and the little procession moved on.
Grierson found a bathroom with one small, high window, locked them in, then wedged a chair under the door handle. When he went downstairs again, Craig still held St. Briac, in exactly the same position.
'All right,' said Grierson. 'I'll take him now.'
'No,' Craig whispered. 'Just take the gun from my hand. He's mine.'
They went out into the darkness of the gardens, up to the wall that separated the two villas. Grierson went first, and held the carbine on St. Briac until he climbed up too, then Grierson jumped down. It was Craig's turn. Slowly, nursing his damaged hand, he scrambled up the wall, when suddenly the lights came on again, a shattering gleam that made him sway as he knelt there. St. Briac kicked out at him, and even then Craig acted on reflex, grabbing the shoe, twisting, feeling the polished leather slide through his hand. St. Briac spun in the air and came down hard, his chest and arms slamming into the wire. His body arched and shook as the charge went through him, and Craig still knelt, swaying. Grierson yelled at him to come down, then clambered back onto the wall, lifted
Craig over the wire, and helped him down to safety. From the house a gun cracked, and a bullet spanged on the wall as Grierson jumped, hauled Craig to his feet, and pushed him toward the deserted villa. Somehow Craig worked up a shambling run until he reached the door of the villa and sprawled out, shivering. The door was locked.
Grierson yelled, 'Ashford, are you there?'
Two men appeared on the wall, and he fired a burst from the carbine. They pitched back, not jumping; falling like men who have been badly hurt.
'Ashford,' Grierson yelled.
The villa's door opened, and Ashford came out.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I had to be sure.'
'All right,' said Grierson. 'Take this.' He gave him the Woodsman. 'Help Craig out of here.'
Ashford grabbed the heavier man, and staggered off toward the far wall of the villa. Grierson followed, watching the rear. The lights in the villa went off again, and he heard the barking of dogs set free. The bathroom had not been strong enough to hold his captives; without tools, he had had time to do no more than switch off the generator. Somehow they got Craig to the box hedge, and Ashford followed. The first dog was almost on them, and again Grierson loosed off the carbine, and saw the dog fall. Then he reached the hedge and fumbled with the Alfa's door. Ashford heaved Craig into the back seat as the second dog leaped at Grierson. Ashford yelled and Grierson spun around, clubbing the dog with the gun butt. It snarled, and came at him again, and Grierson held the gun barrel in front of him. When the dog pawed at the barrel to bring it down, he kicked the animal under the jaw. Ashford wound down the window and fired as Duclos came running. Grierson jumped into the car and it started at once in a sweet surge of power, toward the Corniche road and Cap Ferrat.
'How is he?' Grierson asked.
'He's fainted,' Ashford said. 'It looks as if they've tortured him pretty badly.'
'There's some brandy on the back window ledge,' said Grierson. 'Try him with that.'
Craig coughed some down, and came back into consciousness, his whole body aware of pain as a spider's web of movement.
'We got away,' said Craig. 'Thanks.'
'Thank yourself,' said Grierson. 'You grabbed St. Briac.'
'That's right,' said Craig. 'I killed him, didn't I?' 'He fell on the wire.' 'Where are we going now?'
'Cap Ferrat,' answered Grierson. 'We can't stay here any more.'
'What about St. Briac? Weren't we supposed to find out what he was doing next?'
'I think we've done enough,' said Grierson.
'He was going to Aden next week,' Ashford said. 'Bobby told me.'
Grierson braked down sharply for a turn.
'That'll have to do,' he said.
He slowed down through Villefranche, and became aware then of the black Citroen following them, which hung on as they turned on to the cape, past the superb white villas and the sheer cliffs with the sea boiling below. Grierson switched off his lights after they had passed through St. Jean, and pulled over beside a villa's gateway, a masterpiece of wrought iron, painted black and gold. They abandoned the car, and Grierson led the way to a tiny headland, then left them to make his way down the cliff and signal to a yacht in the bay.
Craig and Ashford lay face down in the dry, coarse grass by the roadside, and watched as the Citroen went past them. Ashford was shaking uncontrollably. The moon came out in a clear, cloudless sky, and Craig watched him shiver. He was unable to help in any way at all. Grierson came back to them, moving warily still.
'They've seen me,' he said. 'We'd better get down there quick. They're sending a boat.'
'I can't,' said Ashford. 'I can't.'
From farther down the road, the wheels of a car scraped as it turned.
'Come on,' said Grierson.
Ashford said, 'I can't. I get vertigo.'
'We can't wait for you,' said Grierson.
'You go then,' said Ashford. 'Just leave me the gun.'
'No,' said Craig. 'We owe you a bit more than that.'
Grierson ran down the cliff again to meet the boat that would come in from the yacht, making as much noise as he could, while Craig and Ashford raced to the car, scrambled on to its roof, and broke into their third villa of the
