Precipice

'You don't smoke.'

'Just occasionally. I used to smoke at boarding school just to keep up with the other girls.' She took the cigarette he offered, bent down so he could light it, took a careful puff, spread out her arms. 'What a spectacular view…"' She stopped. 'Where are you off to?'

'Just exploring.' he called over his shoulder.

'You've left the engine running.'

'You want a breakdown up here?'

Philip had walked to the back of the large alcove where there was a narrow gash in the rock. Beyond he found a narrow valley snaking down the mountain. The waterfall inside it was frozen solid, the ice gleaming in the sun. At frequent intervals rocks protruded above the ice, the snow on them melting. He pointed upwards.

'There's the summit of the Kellerhorn. And there's the so-called weather station.'

Paula stared in fascination up the ravine. A cluster of one-storey buildings of white concrete huddled together not so far above them. A forest of aerials sat on the flat rooftop of one building, surrounding what looked like a slim conning tower in their midst.

Philip had hauled out a pair of high-powered binoculars given to him by Marler, was studying the buildings, when he suddenly stiffened. He pressed the binoculars closer to his eyes.

'See that conning tower effort?' he said. 'It's elevating and a thick rod of some kind has slid out above it. The rod is flexible, is moving round, pointing at various angles.'

'I see it. What can it be?'

'The rod has become vertical again,' Philip reported. 'Now it's disappearing back down inside the conning tower. If that's a weather station my aunt is a bloater.'

'Didn't know you had a bloater for an aunt,' Paula commented to break the tension.

Philip put the binoculars back in his pocket. He gazed up the ravine.

'You know something. With the right footwear you could climb that ravine and get close to the buildings unseen.'

'I think a guard up there has spotted us.'

'I didn't see anything. Probably your imagination.'

But he slipped back quickly inside the alcove, following Paula. She went back to their transport, climbed into the passenger seat. She said as soon as Philip was behind the wheeclass="underline" 'I still think a guard saw us.'

'Imagin…..'

'If you say imagination I'll clonk you one.'

'Not while I'm driving, you won't.' He grinned. 'We're going higher up. Reach into my pocket on your side – you'll find a camera, a small job. When we get a closer look at that place take pictures. That camera is fast. Take one picture, press the button on top – to take your pic. The mechanism then automatically moves the film along so you can take another in the next second. Use up the whole film.'

'I'll do my best.'

It seemed to Paula that Philip was driving faster. Not dangerously so, but he was now fired up having seen their objective. He swung round blind corners, causing Paula to hold on to the hand-grip. They climbed and climbed and climbed. No sign of an emotional crisis in Philip now, she was thinking. Tweed did know what he was doing.

She was beginning to wonder when they were going to get to the top when Philip turned round another overhanging outcrop, slowed, drove on to a small plateau, stopped under the cover of a ridge like a tank, hull down. The weather station was less than a quarter of a mile away.

She had the viewfinder of the camera to her eye, was taking shot after shot. Philip had taken out the binoculars again, focused them above the buildings, lifting the glasses slowly until they reached the enormous summit.

'You can see why, as I told you, it's called the Kellerhorn,' Paula said, still taking shots.

'I most certainly can.'

The summit was shaped like a gigantic boar's head. It looked incredibly sinister, coated with a slime of melting ice and snow. What interested Philip was the slanting slope running steeply down from the summit towards the weather station. Enormous boulders and a shale of smaller rocks thrust their shark-like snouts above the snow. The slope looked extremely unstable. He could see the ravine they had observed from the rock alcove lower down continuing up the slope.

'Look at those weird old houses inside the perimeter.' Paula commented. 'They look like some old village.'

Philip focused on the houses. Built of wood long ago, they had all their shutters closed. There were signs of the shingle roofs having been renewed. Most odd, he mused.

'That wire fence round the whole caboodle must be twelve feet high,' he said, examining it through his glasses. 'And it has an alarm wire running along the top with sensors at intervals. You'd think they were guarding Fort Knox.'

I've run out of film.' Paula informed him. 'Let's hope we haven't run out of time.'

'Not a guard in sight.' he told her.

'That's what worries me.'

They began their descent. The sun had gone in, masked by an army of dark clouds drifting in rapidly from the west. Paula had unzipped her shoulder bag. They were approaching the large rock alcove where they had stopped on the way up.

The bend Philip had to drive round just before they reached it was one of the most savage and hair-raising on the whole mountain road. He saw ice, slowed down to a crawl. Below them Sion, the entire plain, had vanished. He cruised, still crawling, up to the alcove.

'Look out!' yelled Paula.

With both hands on the wheel Philip couldn't react. He glanced to his left, saw three Leather Bombers inside the alcove. One held a machine-pistol, had raised it, was taking aim. Paula lobbed the grenade she'd taken out of her shoulder bag. It landed almost at the feet of the three men.

There was a vicious crack. All three men twisted, fell back against the rock wall, lay very still. Philip realized he was sweating. He looked at Paula before getting out.

'You were suspicious.'

'Yes, I was. No guards in sight. And you'd said when we were here earlier it would be possible to climb up that ravine. So I worked out it would be possible to climb down the ravine – and this is a perfect place for an ambush.'

'I'll have to get rid of those bodies. They'd be a dead giveaway when they were found. No pun intended.'

'Not funny. Maybe they're still alive…'

'Doubt that. Inside that confined alcove – with rock walls – the shrapnel from a grenade would kill.'

'Please make sure.'

'I will.'

He checked the brakes, left Paula, went inside the alcove. He felt the carotids of all three men. No pulse from two of them. The third did have a faint pulse. If he recovered he'd report what had happened. Heaving the first body by its legs, he dragged it behind their vehicle to the edge, peered over. An endless abyss, probably a thousand feet down. He toppled the body over. It spun through the air into space.

He went back for the second body, dealt with it in the same manner. Paula was looking the other way. Then he collected the man who was still breathing, hauled him to the brink, levered him over.

'As I thought,' he lied as he climbed behind the wheel. 'All were dead.'

Then you did the right thing.'

Not another word was exchanged as they descended the road and eventually entered Sion.

34

The Lear executive jet with BRAZIL splashed along the outside of its fuselage was flying over France, would soon cross the sea prior to landing at Heathrow.

Tweed spent most of his time chatting with the pilot and the co-pilot in their cabin. He had found out both men were once fliers with the Swiss Air Force. The radio op. swivelled in his chair to speak to Tweed for the fifth time. He spoke in English as a courtesy to his guest.

There's a real storm of reports building up. Something weird is happening in Moscow. Rumours that the President has resigned due to ill health. Rumours that a General Marov is bringing armoured divisions into the city. Rumours that the frontiers of Russia have been closed.'