They were just above the tree line when they heard the helicopter.

It was coming up the valley. It was still behind the shoulder of the hill, but coming on fast.

"Hit the groundP Craig ordered, and slammed Sally Anne between the shoulder-blades with the flat of his hand. They went down and pushed their faces to the earth, but the beat of the rotors changed, altering to coarse pitch and now the sound was stationary, just out of their line of sight behind the fold of rocky hillside.

"It's landing," Sally-Anne said, and the engine noise died away.

"She's down." Sally-Anne cocked her head. "She's landed. There! He has cut the motor." Into the silence they could hear, very faintly, orders being shouted.

Tupho, come up here," Tungata ordered. "You two, wait." Craig and Tungata crawled up to the shoulder of the hill and very slowly raised their heads to look over the crest.

Below them, a quarter of a mile down the valley, there was a small level clearing at the edge of the forest. The grass had been flattened and there was an open-sided canvas sun shelter at the edge of the trees on the far side of the clearing. The helicopter stood in the centre of the clearing, and the pilot was climbing down from the fuselage port. There were uniformed troopers of the Third Brigade under the trees near the tent, and in the tent they could make out three or four other men sitting at a table.

"Advanced headquarters," Craig murmured.

"This is the valley thae'we entered, the main cave is just below us."

"You are right." Craig had not recognized the ground from this direction and height.

"Looks as though they are pulling out," Tungata pointed into the trees. A platoon of camouflaged troopers was moving back down the valley in Indian file.

"They probably waited for forty-eight hours or so after dynamiting the grand gallery, now they must have given us up for dead and buried." "How many?"Tungata asked.

"I can see," Craig screwed up his eyes, "twenty at least, not counting those in the tent. There will be others staking out the hills, of course." Tungata drew back from the skyline and beckoned to Sally' Anne She crawled up beside him.

"What do you make of that machine?" He pointed at the helicopter.

"It's a Super Frelon," she replied without hesitation.

"Can you fly it?" 11 can fly anything."

"Damn it, Sally-Anne, don't be clever," Craig whispered irritably. "Have you ever flown one of those?"

"Not a Super Frelon, but I have five hundred hours on helicopters."

"How long would it take you to start up and get moving, once you are in the cockpit?" Now she hesitated. "Two or three minutes."

"Too long. "Craig shook his head.

"What if we can pull the guards away from the clearing while Pendula starts up?" Tungata asked.

"That might work," Craig agreed.

"This is it then." Tungata set it out quickly. "I will track UP to the head of the valley. You take the girls down to the edge of the clearing. Got it?" Craig nodded.

"Forty-five minutes from now," Tungata checked his wristwatch, nine, thirty exactly, I will start throwing grenades and firing with the AK. That should pull most of the Shana away from the clearing. As soon as the shooting starts, you head for the helicopter. When I hear the helicopter lift off, I'll run out on the open slope, there! He pointed up the valley. "Just below that rock sheet. The Shana will not have reached me by that time you can make the pick-up from there."

"Let's do it." Craig passed Tungata the AK 47 and the spare magazines. "I'll keep the Uzi and one grenade." He took the sub machinegun from Tungata.

"Take the diamonds also." Tungata shrugged out of the straps of the back pack and pushed it across to Craig.

"See you later." Craig slapped his shoulder, and Tungata slid away down the slope.

Craig led the two girls straight down along the spine of the hill, keeping in the scrub and broken rock. It was a relief to reach the tree-line, and discover a ravine that angled back along the edge of the clearing. They crept down it, Craig cautiously lifting his head above the bank to check their progress every few hundred feet.

"This is as close as we can get to the helicopter," he whispered and the girls sank down, resting below the lip of the bank. Craig slipped out of the heavy pack and had another look over the bank.

The helicopter stood out in the open, a hundred and fifty paces away. The pilot was squatting beside the landing-gear in the shade cast by the fuselage. The Super Frelon was a bulky, blunt, nosed machine, painted dull sage green. Craig sank down Again beside Sally-Anne.

"VA-iat range does it have?" Craig asked in a whisper.

"Not certain," Sally-Anne whispered back. "With full tanks about six hundred miles, I'd guess."

"Pray for full tanks." Craig glanced at his Rolex. "Ten minutes." From his pocket he handed them each another slab of chocolate. A Sally-Anne's sweat had streaked the blackening on her cheeks. Craig mixed dirt and water from the bottle into a muddy paste and repaired her make-up. Then she did the same to him.

"Two minutes." Craig checked the time, and glanced over the bank.

The helicopter pilot stood up and stretched, then he climbed back into the Super Frelon.