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 very shaky. Here the slope was steep but not too difficult with little snow to impede them. They had barely started when the ground shook beneath them, the sound of the first explosion almost totally muffled. In quick succession there were other small quakes. One to go, Rosemont thought, glad of the cold which was clearing his head. The last explosion - the communications room - where they had used all their remaining explosive was much bigger and really shuddered the earth. Below and to their right, part of the mountain gave way, smoke billowing out of the resulting crater.
“Christ,” Ross muttered. “Probably an air vent.” “Sahib. Look down there!” The lead truck had stopped at the entrance to the cave. Men were jumping out of it, others staring up at the mountainside,
309 illuminated by the lights of the following trucks. The men all had rifles. Ross and the others slid deeper into the shadows. “We’ll climb up to that ridge,” Rosemont said softly, pointing above and to their left. “We’ll be out of their sight and covered. Then we head for Tabriz, almost due east. Okay?”
“Tenzing, on you go!”
“Yes, sahib.”
They made the ridge and hurried over it to climb again, working their way eastward, not talking, conserving their energy for there were many, many miles to go. The terrain was rough and the snow harried them. Soon their gloves were torn, hands and legs bruised, calves aching but, no longer encumbered by heavy packs, they made good progress and their spirits were high.
They came to one of the paths that crisscrossed the mountains. Whenever the path forked, their choice was always to keep to the heights. There were villages in the valley, very few up this high. “Better we stay up here,” Rosemont said, “and… and hope we don’t run into anyone.” “You think they’ll all be hostile?”