clamminess cloyed at their faces, it deadened all sound. They seemed to move out of a ghost town.
Philip and Paula, in a four-wheel-drive, led the way at the beginning. Newman had agreed it was sensible since they knew the route. Behind them followed Butler and Meld, each clad in black leather and helmets and riding a Fireblade. They would move to the head of the convoy when the beginning of the road up the mountain was reached.
'We need a distraction if they see us coming.' Newman had decided. 'If we're spotted too early the sight of what will appear to be a couple of Leather Bombers will confuse the opposition.'
Behind the motorcycles Newman drove the jeep with the rocket launcher and spare shells beside him. He had chosen the jeep because it would be easy to leap out of.
Bringing up the rear Marler sat alone in the second four-wheel-drive. Like Philip, Butler, and Nield he carried a canvas satchel with a shoulder-strap. They drove with their headlights dimmed and met no other traffic and not a single soul on the streets.
With Philip behind the wheel, they soon left Sion behind and paused as the beginning of the mountain road came into view. Butler and Nield rode into the vanguard and Newman followed behind them.
'There would be a mist,' Philip commented.
'Just what we need to cover our departure.' Paula assured him.
'You're not driving.' he reminded her.
'I'll take over the wheel anytime.' she retorted.
'I'll hang in here for awhile.'
They emerged suddenly above the white layer of heavy mist and Paula was surprised how high they had climbed already. Above them was an azure sky, cloud-free. She looked back and thought the huge rock near the Marchats' house, appearing to float, was like a Japanese painting.
'We're making good progress.' Philip said as he swung round yet another hideous bend. 'And the snow is hard so we can move faster.'
'Newman is going like the wind. The trouble is he has Butler and Nield ahead of him. Put those two on motorcycles and they jolly near break the sound barrier.'
She was surprised, had a funny feeling, when unexpectedly they passed the rock alcove where they had fought off a three-man ambush. Don't think about it, she told herself. Concentrate on what lies ahead.
Behind them, Marler was whistling a tune to himself. He had waited at the bottom while Newman took the lead in his jeep, with only the motorcycles ahead. He was impressed with the way Newman was negotiating the bends, bearing in mind that he hadn't had the experience he had built up driving to the villa the day before.
Butler and Nield, finding the surface hard, were storming up the mountain with Newman not far in their wake. They had to hit the ground station before the guards woke up. They were banking on the sheer mountain wall muffling the sound of their headlong approach.
'Boy.' Philip exclaimed, 'are they moving!'
'So are we.' responded Paula.
She had stopped gazing down into the abyss. She wanted her nerve steady as a rock – steady as the rock wall they were skimming past – when the inevitable battle began. She took out her Browning, checked the action.
'That's the second time you've done that,' Philip joked.
'It gives me something to do.'
'I know. The sooner we're there and get on with it the better as far as I'm concerned.'
'Me, too. I'm worried about Bob.'
'Why?' asked Philip with a note of surprise. 'He can look after himself.'
'I realize that, but when they see what he's aiming they'll make him their main target – the enemy will.'
'Which is why we've all been fanned out in the plan -just so we can back him up. He showed us, remember? Using salt and pepper cellars to represent who was who.'
'Looked all right – on a tablecloth. But it's theory.'
'It will go according to plan,' Philip insisted.
'Famous last words.'
'Be optimistic, like me,' Philip told her.
'You can't see your expression. You look as grim as one of those mountains.'
'I'm concentrating on my driving. Which is rather a sound idea, don't you think? Under the circumstances?'
Philip had just swung round another hair-raising curve in the road, which now rose very steeply. He was deliberately keeping her talking, to take her mind off what lay ahead of them. At times he provoked an argument while they came closer to the plateau where the ground station was located.
'You're driving very well, Philip.' she said.
'Famous last words!' he joked.
'We're nearly there, aren't we?'
'Very close now. Better check the action of your Browning again,' he needled her.
'I know why you said that. But if we are very close then I think I'll take your mocking advice.'
She extracted the Browning from her shoulder bag, held it in her lap, the muzzle pointed away from Philip, tension building up inside her as the great boar's head of the Kellerhorn came into view.
Inside the main building of the ground station it was Brazil who first had an inclination of what was heading straight for them. He slept little, liked to advertise his boundless energy.
'I'm always up first – before the world has woken up.' he had told many people. 'That is how I steal a march on the rest of the world. While others slumber I work.'
It was still a couple of hours before he planned to send the second, major signal. He had had his breakfast alone and was staring out of the large window of armoured glass which overlooked the approaches to the heights. The large room was his HQ, his living and sleeping quarters. A door leading off it led to an even larger room which controlled the mobile conning tower perched above it, the sophisticated laser system which contacted the satellite.
He had been working, so it was well after dawn when he pulled back the curtains, stared in disbelief at the convoy of vehicles below him. He was confused for a few vital minutes by what he thought were two Leather Bombers on motorcycles, then he raised the alarm. Why the hell hadn't he posted heavy guards round the perimeter during the night? He cursed his omission. Pressing a button on his intercom he shouted down it.
'Craig! We're under attack…'
Rounding the last corner, Butler and Nield rode up towards the ground station, keeping well apart to provide a smaller target, looking for guards. Newman drove the jeep into the middle of the space between them, continued a long way forward.
'He's going too close.' said Paula.
'He's determined the first shell lands in the right place,' Philip told her.
As ordered by Newman earlier, he swung the four-wheel-drive in a U-turn, so it faced the way they had come, ready for a swift retreat. Marler brought his own vehicle close to them, also performed a U-turn, left the engine running when he had braked. Philip also left his engine running before diving out of the vehicle after Paula.
She was already running over the hard-packed snow, holding her Browning in both hands, ready for instant firing. She raised her automatic as guards appeared near the gates to the compound, flung them open, came running out. Men clad in black leather who, like Butler and Nield, looked sinister silhouetted against the white snow.
Above them, way beyond the ground station, loomed the huge summit of the Kellerhorn – while below it descended the long snowbound slope with rocks protruding at frequent intervals, a slope which ran down to the rear of the ground station.
Marler had brought his Armalite rifle this time. He stood in the open, well to the left of Newman and close to Nield, the weapon tucked into his shoulder. A Leather Bomber, holding a machine-pistol, was running down to get within range. Marler saw him in the crosshairs, pulled the trigger, and saw his target sprawl forward, lie still. It was the first shot. It provoked a fusillade from the advancing guards, now pouring through the open gates, drawing closer to Newman.
