Bess was making good use of Master Oughtred's big telescope. What she could see through it, she could see very well, but she could see only a small patch of the Wall or the lower slopes at a time. If something was there for just a moment or two, and the telescope was looking in the wrong place . . . they needed more eyes.
He stepped around the house to where he could see the buses unloading, and smiled. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted his loudest, 'Beaver Patrol! Beaver Patrol! To me!' Five faces turned toward him, and he swung his arm in the signal 'Assemble' and then 'Hurry.'
Jan Brinker was first up the walkway as they came all in a rush. 'Hello, Mister Morton. What is going on?'
'Troop 9 will take on a task no one else has thought of. Very likely Mrs. Villareal is up there somewhere, maybe not where anyone thinks. We will stand here and watch the Wall, steadily, for any clue. Point at anything you see, until Bess here can bring Master Oughtred's telescope on it. Did any of you bring telescopes or binoculars?'
Ralph Onofrio had. Karl Blume had. The boys and their Assistant Scoutmaster divided up the cliff into search sectors and went to it. Bess concentrated on stepping the big telescope from pocket to cliff-edge to cave-opening. After a time Stepmother brought them breakfast; they ate with their eyes on the Wall.
'Holy cow, look what those klutzes did with that rope! It's lucky the thing didn't come loose with them on it! And Livie.'
'Carlos, if you must blaspheme in front of four monks, it's as well you chose to blaspheme the Hindu beliefs.'
Brother Girard laughed.
'Mmp. Sorry. What do you want us to do, Girard? Belay Marcel, there?'
'No, he just needs to rig his rope and descender, so he can go down to assess the situation. I'll assist him as needed.'
'Suggestion? No telling who or what is in that cave. Somebody else should go with him for backup, and they should both be armed.'
Brother Girard gave him a startled look, then nodded. 'Indeed. Marcel and Andre together, then. Carlos and Will, secure your own safety lines, then help Mario place the hoisting rig over the cliff edge; we may well need it.'
'Right.'
Stake down the base. Run backstays to handy trees. Thread the pulley. Lay out lines, ready to drop. Set down the rescue basket where it was out from underfoot, but easy to reach in a hurry if the team below called for it. Carlos's lips tightened at that.
Meanwhile, Brother Girard watched and waited with a walkie-talkie in his hand. It was a piece of junk. There were only two channels; the thing was made for kids to play with, and the effects of that were plain to see. Even the up-time duct tape repair was cheap stuff, it was starting to peel at the ends. The battery pack was a clunky thing with a belt clip, kluged on with a yard and a half of lamp wire. Still, it was the latest technology. It wouldn't dump acid out and quit working if it tipped over. Before long, it came alive.
'Rescue One Alfa, this is Rescue One Bravo, at the entrance.'
'Rescue One Bravo, Alfa. You have found her?'
'Negative. Nobody is present, and we searched everywhere we could reach and called loudly. But there is a kind of camp a good distance inside, you can't see it from the entrance. I found damaged woman's clothing there. Does Carlos know what she wore that day?'
Brother Girard held out the radio.
'Carlos speaking. Most likely jeans, but sometimes she changes during the day. What kind of shirt did you see?'
'Plaid, mostly white with thin blue and red stripes.'
Carlos groaned. 'Has to be hers. She's got one like that.'
****
Tipton heard it on his patrol car's CB rig. This was getting crazier and crazier. The chief had said Bennet didn't seem to have any notion about moving her after he and Chekhov hauled her up there-and where the hell was Chekhov?
The dogs hadn't scented Olivia anywhere but along the path between Oughtred's cabin, the Morton place, and the road to the foot of the Wall. The miners had stopped work; they were checking everything inside their own fence. The ground search teams were already moving in, best leave them to it. He was getting a sinking feeling about this, but if there was any chance at all. . . . What were they overlooking? Where else did they need to look?
Jack Morton and one of his Scouts were coming at a dead run.
****
'Rescue One Alfa, this is Bluelight Eight. Can you guys get a look into those cut-off mine tunnels below you?'
'Stand by, Bluelight Eight. This will require some thought.'
A minute passed.
'Bluelight Eight, Rescue One Alfa. We have a plan. It will be necessary to place anchors on the way down in order to stay against the Wall. We have qualified rock climbers with us who can do this.'
Marvin Tipton's mind was racing. Villareal and Oughtred could get there, but should they? If it was a wild goose chase, it could burn up a lot of time, and then they'd need to get back up before they could go anywhere else.
The kid with Jack Morton broke into his thoughts. 'We can't see into there from this angle down here, Mr. Morton.' His hand waved vaguely. 'We'd have to be out there someplace.'
Tipton's jaw dropped. He whirled to the car and twisted the channel knob. 'Grantville Tower, this is Blue Light Eight. You got anybody who could do a flyby along the Ring Wall?'
****
The plane came skimming over the ridgeline, sideslipped down over the wooded slope, made a steep turn away from the Wall, poured on the power and climbed away again. A couple of miles away, it came around for another pass.
'What are you doing, Carlos?'
'Praying for the guys in that plane, Will. I've seen Belles fly. They're no crop-dusters, they're not built for this stuff.'
Suddenly Brother Girard's walkie-talkie came alive again. 'Blue Light Eight, this is Belle Three. My student caught a glimpse of something fluorescent pink. Going around for another pass.'
'Blue Light Eight, roger.' The radio went quiet.
'Do you think that's her, Carlos?'
'I don't know, Girard, I'm pretty sure she doesn't own anything that color, but no down-time dye looks like what he described.' He looked out at the plane below them, maneuvering into position.
The plane came across the opposite slope this time, in a descending spiral toward the mine buildings. The engine started throttling up for the climb-out.
'Blue Light Eight, Belle Three. Contact. Upper left mine tunnel. A red-haired woman lying curled up in a sunny patch, a few yards inside. We didn't see movement.'
'Belle Three, Blue Light Eight, roger and thank you.'
'Blue Light Eight, Rescue One Alfa copies all. Proceeding with plan.'
It was Olivia, right where Bess had said. And this was going to be a rock climbing job after all.
There wouldn't have been any point trying to set up directly above the tunnel where Olivia was, even if the terrain allowed for it, which it didn't. Carlos and Will were already dropping their lines over the edge and hooking up. The fastest way was down to the lower row of anchors they'd set the other day, across along the fixed line, and then down the Wall setting anchors periodically so as to stay pulled in; it wouldn't do a lot of good to get down
