Terror's Cradle

vessel to intercept them.'

`How do I know you haven't?'

`You don't know. But I assure you that I will. I will order them killed, you know that?'

This was it then. Another Russian boat might already be intercepting Anderson; God knows they had enough of them in Lerwick! But I'd reached the end, played my weak hand for all it would stand. I couldn't do more.

Marasov said, 'I am only interested in the transparency. Only that. Remember it. If you let the bottle fall now, they will be safe.'

I took a deep breath of doubt. But now I had to do it. I said, 'Coming now. Watch out for it!'

I reached out my hand to the thin, dangling string, raised my eyes to the cliff edge and pulled gently. It was tight, perhaps lodged against some tiny obstruction. I pulled harder .

. . and watched in horror as the slack string came limply over the edge. There was no bottle on the end!

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Marasov's voice rasped,. 'What's wrong, Sellers?'

`No bottle,' I said. 'There's no –' I was going to die. Now. This moment. Rifles were aimed at me. I said, 'Please, let me – '

Brilliant light suddenly flooded the chasm below me, a bright, white ball of light. I was gaping down, waiting for the bullet, but already blinded by the flaring brilliance, when a voice above 'me shouted, 'Quick, Sellers! Get up here, quick ! ' Elliot's voice!

But I couldn't go quickly. Climbing with Jumars was desperately slow. I felt the rope move in my hands and clung to it, as the cliff face scraped against my knuckles. I heard the sharp crackle of rifle fire from below, heard bullets smack against rock. Somehow I wasn't hit, and I couldn't understand why. I couldn't see at all. That suddenly exploding, flaring light had destroyed my vision totally. I simply hung there, helplessly, aware that I was being dragged slowly upward, knowing Elliot must be doing it, but with no idea what had caused the light, or why I hadn't been hit.

`You're at the edge now.' Elliot's voice was little more than a series of straining grunts. '

Grab it and climb over!'

Ì'm blind,' I yelled. 'I can't see!'

`Christ, put your hands out. Help me pull . .

I felt forward at the cliff face, slid my hands up and felt the edge, where cold rock turned into grass, reached up, found a grip, and pulled. The edge was level with my chest.

`Christ, make it fast!' Elliot grated.

I pulled desperately, hands now nearly at waist level. `Fall forward, Sellers, you're okay!'

But I didn't fall forward. I was smashed forward, by a rifle bullet which, although I didn't know it at that instant, blasted half the flesh of my 'shoulder away. All I knew then was that my shoulder was suddenly numb, that my face was in wet grass. I tried to crawl, but my arm wouldn't support me. I wriggled on my stomach, and rolled, until I felt grass instead of space beneath my feet.

Shock, it must have been. Exhaustion. The burning redness in my eyes was darkening, then dying .. .

I woke in the helicopter and looked up at a dim shape very near. Somebody spoke, and I assumed the shape must be a head. 'Don't worry. Keep still. You'll be at the hospital in a few minutes.'

I nodded, hoping it was true. My shoulder felt as though it was being cremated. If the pain went on much longer I'd . . .

But it didn't. I blacked out again and awoke much later, blinking at the daylight. I looked round me and tried to move, but one arm was immobile. I was in a strange room, too. I was making a habit of awakening in strange rooms. This room had a nurse in it. I must have grunted or something, because she turned and gave me one of those reassuring nurse-type smiles. She said, `Before you ask, you're in Aberdeen General Hospital.'

I blinked. 'How?'

À combination of things. Morphia and a helicopter. You're all right, don't worry.'

Stupidity was rolling away. As far, at any rate, as it was ever likely to roll. Realization came back too. I sat up awkwardly, swore at the sudden pain, and said 'Alsa What happened?'

The nurse said, 'Everybody's all right. I was told to tell you that.' She laughed gaily. 'I don't know who's all right, but they are, it seems.'

I sank back. 'Thank God!'

She came over. She actually mopped my brow. I'd heard of it so many times, but this was the first time it had actually happened to me. It felt wonderfully soothing.

`Now,' she murmured. 'A little more sleepytime.'

I woke again and it was dark outside. My shoulder was throbbing. Another nurse was on duty. I asked her, 'How am I?'

She was the brisk kind. 'You're fine,' she said. 'Damaged shoulder, that's all. And maybe you're a wee bit run down.' She advanced on me with a syringe. Next day I learned that I was officially ambulant, but all the same I didn't feel like walking. The brisk nurse would probably have made me, but she wasn't on duty. It was the angelic one who fed me, bathed me and finally told me she had a nice surprise waiting. She pushed me in a wheelchair down a corridor, opened a door, said, 'There's your friend,' and left discreetly.

The friend was Elliot. He lay propped up in bed, wearing

a weak smile that sat awkwardly across his lantern jaw. He was also wearing a lot of bandages on his chest and a bottle of plasma was draining into him. I said, 'What happened?'

Ì got shot. Just like you. Two ribs busted. Some loss of blood. Gonna be okay.'

Ì'm glad you're all right,' I said with perfect sincerity. Tut what happened before that? I saw a ball of fire come from somewhere.'

Elliot said weakly, 'Not that I'd like to try it again. There was a ledge on the north end of that damn rock, maybe ten feet wide, just below the top. I got the helicopter to drop me there.'

Ànd then?'

Ì looked for you. You weren't visible, but there was only one way you could get down. When I found the rope, I found the bottle and cut the string .. • . I could hear you talking.'

He grinned, but the grin was tenuous with pain. His voice was noticeably weaker when he spoke again.

`What I did, I brought a flare from the chopper. That was the ball of fire. Nobody can aim a rifle through a flare.'

`They did,' I said. 'They hit us both.'

`Lucky shooting. Unlucky, I guess.' He was very weak; his wound was far more severe than he'd admitted.

I looked at him, trying to find words. Finally I said, 'You were nearly killed. Willingham was killed. I did everything I could to keep that transparency away from you. You could just have taken it and left me hanging there.'

He no longer had the strength to grin, but he smiled a little. It was very weak, but very real and I suddenly realized I had a high regard for Elliot. He said, 'I was . . . tempted. I really was. Then I got . . . to thinking. You know .. . Sellers . . I could barely hear him now, `. . I thought . . . that a dope like you . .• . who just wanted . . . to get your girl back .

. . is what it's . . . all about.' He was almost asleep as he finished. I said, 'She's Anderson's girl, but I suppose the principle's‘ sound. Go to sleep. I'll see you later. And thanks.'

I was trying to turn the wheelchair away, one-handed, not wanting to disturb him by shouting for the nurse. Then, from somewhere he found the strength to rouse himself a little.

`Sellers ..

`Later. Go to sleep.'

Ànderson was . . . here . . Elhoes voice was only a murmur. 'Message . . . for you . . Òh, I wasn't sure whether or not Elliot was now talking, in his sleep. His eyes were closed and the muscles of his face were slack.

`Yea . . . about gen . . . genetics.'

`Genetics?' He must be rambling.

`Told me . . . second cousins . . . shouldn't . .. they shouldn't . . . marry.'

I stared at him. 'Second cousins?' My heart was thudding suddenly in my chest. His eyes came open but he didn't speak. He seemed to be listening. I listened too. Footsteps were coming down the corridor. And then the door opened and things became confused, because Alsa came in and both of us ignored poor old Elliot until the confusion had eased and Alsa was wheeling my chair softly to the door. I turned my head to look at him.