part of it, full of troops to track us. We’d better hurry it up, eh?”
Rosemont nodded, fighting to dominate the fear that swept through him, helped by the calmness of the other man. “Yes, yes, you’re right.” Still shattered, he went through a small passage to another door. Locked. As he looked for the key on the tabbed ring of keys he said, “I owe you and your men an apology. I don’t know how we - I - got taken in or how that bastard escaped the security check but he did and you’re probably right - we’re set up. Sorry, but, shit, that doesn’t help a goddamn bit.”
“It helps.” Ross grinned and the fear dropped off both of them. “It helps. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, yes, thanks. Gueng killed him?”
“Well,” Ross said dryly. “He handed me his head. They usually just bring back ears.”
“Jesus. You been with them long?”
“The Gurkhas? Four years.”
The key slid into the lock and the door opened. The code room was pedantically neat. Telex and teleprinter and copy machines. A curious computer printer with a keyboard was on its own desk. “That’s the decoder - worth any money you’d like to ask the opposition.” On the desks pencils were lined up. Half a dozen manuals.
Rosemont picked them up. “Good sweet Jesus…” All were codebooks marked MECCA - ONE COPY ONLY. “Well, at least the master code’s locked up.” He went to the modem safe with its electronic, 0-9 digital lock that was set into one wall, read the combination from his piece of paper and touched the digits. But the Open light didn’t come on. “Maybe I missed a number. Read them to me, okay?”
“Sure.” Ross began reading out the long series of numbers. Behind them Tenzing came in noiselessly. Neither man heard him. “… one twenty-five… seven twenty-one.” Then both men felt the presence at the same instant and whirled, momentarily panicked.
Tenzing kept the delight off his face and closed his ears to the profanity. Hadn’t the Sheng’khan told him to train the son and make him wise in the ways of stealth and killing? Hadn’t he sworn to guard him and be his silent teacher? “But, Tenzing, for the love of God don’t let my son know I told you to. Keep this secret between us….” It’s been very hard to catch the sahib unawares for weeks, he thought happily. But Gueng caught him tonight and so did I. Much better we do than an enemy - and now they surround us like bees and their queen.
“The staircase leads upward for seventy-five steps to an iron door,” Tenzing said in his best reporting voice. “The door is rusty but I forced it. Outside is a cave, outside the cave is the night - a good escape route, sahib. Not good is that from there I saw the first of the convoy.” He paused, not wanting to be wrong. “Perhaps half an hour of time is left.” “Go back to the first door, Tenzing, the one we barred. Mine the runnel this side of the door to leave the door unharmed - twenty-minute fuse from now. Tell Gueng to set his fuses the same from now exactly. Tell Gueng what I’ve ordered.” “Yes, sahib.”
Ross turned back. He noticed the sweat on Rosemont’s forehead. “Okay?” “Sure. We got to one hundred three.”
“The last two numbers are six sixty and thirty-one.” He saw the American touch the numbers. The Open light began winking. Rosemont’s right hand went for the lever. “Hold it!” Ross wiped the sweat from his own chin, the golden stubble rasping. “I suppose there’s no chance it could be booby-trapped?” Rosemont stared at him, then at the safe. “It’s possible. Sure, it’s possible.”
“Then let’s just blow the bugger and not risk it.”
“I - I’ve gotta check. I’ve got to check if Mecca’s master code’s inside or not. That and the decoder’re priority.” Again he looked at the light winking at him. “You go back in the other room, take cover with Gueng, shout when you’re ready. I - it’s my shot.”
Ross hesitated. Then he nodded, picked up both packs that contained explosives and detonators. “Where’s the communications room?” “Next door.”
“Is - is the generator room important?”
“No. Just this one, the decoder and those four mothers back there, though it’d be best if this whole goddamn floor went to hell.” Rosemont watched Ross walk away then turned his back and looked back at the lever. There was a bad tightness in his chest. That sonofabitch Meshgi! I’d’ve bet my life - you did, we all did, even Ali Karakose. “You ready?” he called out impatiently.
“Wait!” Again his stomach surged. Ross was back beside him before he had heard him, in his hands a long, thin, nylon climbing rope that, quickly, he lashed to the lever. “Turn the lever when I say but don’t open the door. We’ll jerk it open from back there.” Ross hurried out. “Now!” Rosemont took a deep breath to slow his heart and turned the lever to Open then ran through the passage into the other cave. Ross beckoned him down beside the wall. “I sent Gueng to warn Tenzing. Ready?” “Sure.” Ross tightened the rope, then tugged hard. The rope remained taut. He tugged even harder, then it slackened a foot but came no farther. Silence. Nothing. Both men were sweating. “Well,” Ross said, greatly relieved, and got up. “Better safe than sorr - ” The explosion obliterated his words, a great cloud of dust and bits of metal blew out of the passage into their cave, jerking the air from their lungs, scattering tables and chairs. All radar screens burst, lights vanished, one of the red phones tore loose and hurtled across the room to smash through the steel casing of a computer. Gradually the dust settled, both men coughing their hearts out in the darkness.
Rosemont was the first to recover. His flashlight was still on his belt. He groped for it.
“Sahib?” Tenzing called out anxiously, rushing into the room, his flash on, Gueng beside him.
“I’m all - all right,” Ross said, still coughing badly. Tenzing found him lying in the rubble. A little blood was running down his face but it was only a superficial wound from the flying glass. “Bless all gods,” Tenzing muttered and helped him up.
Ross fought to stay upright. “Christalmighty!” Blankly he looked around at the wreckage, then stumbled after Rosemont through the passage into the cipher room. The safe had vanished, with it the decoder, manuals, phones, leaving a huge hole in the living rock. All electronic equipment was just a mess of twisted metal and wires. Small fires had already started. “Jesus,” was all Rosemont could say, his voice little more than a croak, his psyche revolted by the nearness to extinction, mind screaming: run, escape this place of your death…
“Christ all bloody mighty!”
Helplessly, Rosemont tried to say something, couldn’t, his legs took him into a corner and he was violently sick.
“We’d better - ” Ross found it hard to talk, his ears still ringing, a monstrous ache in his head, adrenaline pumping, trying to dominate his own wish to run. ‘Tenzing, are - are you finished?”
“Two minutes, sahib.” The man rushed off.
“Gueng?”
“Yes, sahib. Two minutes also.” He hurried away.
Ross went to the other corner and retched. Then he felt better. He found the flask and took a long swig, wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his battle dress, went over and shook Rosemont who was leaning against the wall. “Here.” He gave it to him. “You all right?”
“Yes. Sure.” Rosemont still felt queasy, but now his mind was working. His mouth tasted foul and he spat the foulness into the rubble. Small fires burned, throwing crazy shadows on the walls and roof. He took a careful sip. After a moment he said, “Nothing on God’s earth like Scotch.” Another sip and he handed the flask back. “We’d better get the hell out of here.” With the flashlight he made a quick search of the wreckage, found the twisted remains of the all-important decoder, and picked his way carefully into the next cave and laid the remains near the charge at the base of the corner computers. “What I don’t understand,” he said helplessly, “is why the whole goddamn place didn’t go up and blow us all to hell anyway - with all our explosives scattered around.”
“I - before I came back with the rope and sent Gueng off to Tenzing, I told Gueng to remove the explosives and the detonators for safety.” “You always think of everything?”
Ross smiled weakly. “Ail part of the service,” he said. “Communications room?”
It was mined quickly. Rosemont glanced at his watch. “Eight minutes to blast-off. We’ll forget the generator room.” “Good. Tenzing, you lead.” They went up the escape staircase. The iron hatch creaked as it opened. Once in the cave Ross took the lead. Cautiously he peered out at the night and all around. The moon was still high. Three or four hundred yards away the lead truck was grinding up the last incline. “Which way, Vien?” he asked and Rosemont felt a glow.
“Up,” he said, hiding the warmth. “We climb. If there’re troops after us, we forget the coast and head for Tabriz. If no troops we circle and go back the way we came.”
Tenzing led. He was like a mountain goat, but he picked the easiest path, knowing the two men were still
