of heavy raindrops rattled against the windshield. The pilot sat forward
in the seat, leaning against his shoulder-straps as he concentrated on
this dangerous low flying in these unpleasant conditions. Helm sat in
the right'hand seat, beside the pilot. Von Schiller and Nahoot Guddabi
were together in the rear passenger seat, both of them craning nervously
to peer out of the side windows as the heavily wooded slopes of the
valley streamed past, seemingly close enough to touch.
Every few minutes the radio crackled into life, and they could hear the
terse transmissions of Nogo's men on the ground calling for mortar
support or reporting objectives attained. The pilot translated the radio
gabble for them, twisting round in his seat to tell von Schiller, 'There
is a sharp fire-fight going on along the top of the chasm, but the
shufta are on the run. Nogo is handling his force well. They have just
dislodged a strong force from the hillside to the east of us,' he
pointed out of the left hand port, 'and they are hammering the shufta
with mortars as they run.'
'Have they reached the spot in the chasm where Quenton-Harper was
working?'
'It isn't clear. All a bit confused.' The pilot listened to the next
burst of Arabic on the radio. 'I think that was Nogo himself speaking
just then.'
'Call him up!' von Schiller ordered Helm, leaning over the back of his
seat. 'Ask him if they have secured the tomb site yet.'
Helm reached across and lifted the microphone off its hook below the
instrument panel. 'Rose Petal, this is Bismarck. Do you copy?'
There was a pause filled with static, and then Nogo's voice Speaking
English. 'Go ahead, Bismarck,'
'Have you secured the primary objective? Over.'
'Affirmative, Bismarck. All secured. All opposition suppressed. I am
sending men down the ladder to clear the workings.'
Helm swivelled in his seat to look back at von Schiller.
'Nogo has men in the chasm already. We can go in and land., 'Tell him
not to let any of his men into the workings before I arrive,' von
Schiller ordered sternly, but his expression was triumphant. 'I must be
the first in there.
Make him understand that.'
While Helm relayed his orders to Nogo, von Schiller tapped the pilot on
the shoulder. 'How long to the objective?'
'About five minutes'flying time, sir.'
'Circle the site when you arrive. Don't land until we are sure Nogo has
it under his control.'
The pilot lifted the collective and the sound of the rotors altered as
they changed pitch. The helicopter slowed and then hovered in mid-air,
while the pilot pointed down.
'What is it?' von Schiller followed his gesture. 'What do you see?'
'The dam,' Helm answered. Quenton-Flarper's dam.
He did a load of work down there.'
The wide body of trapped water gleamed grey and sullen under the rain
clouds, tainted with the run-off from the highlands. The water diverted
