Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

Willie swore viciously and a knife flew, the second knife following as the first struck home. The chatter of the machinegun stopped abruptly. About one and a half seconds, Willie thought as he moved forward, and with a rate of 500 rpm that would mean only about twelve rounds fired, and probably well bunched. It could have been worse.

With sudden realisation he flung himself flat, diving behind a shallow ridge in the ground, barely in time to escape the fusillade of shots that came from the railway, ripping through the jungle fringe, tearing away leaves and twigs. The soldiers were firing blind with their Sten guns.

Beside the train, Collier raced towards the scene, bawling like a madman. " Stop, you bastards! Stop!" One soldier and one government man lay on the ground, either dead or wounded. Collier swerved round them, still shouting, switching to Spanish and waving his arms frantically in an obvious ceasefire sign. The shooting dwindled and died, more because magazines were empty than from Collier's action, but it gave him the chance to get in front of the small bewildered group, still shouting and waving at them.

No shots came from the jungle, and the soldiers looked uncertainly about them for guidance. Collier turned and bellowed, "Willie! Are you okay?"

A voice came clearly from the jungle fringe. "Only bloody just! Tell them I've got two dead rebels 'ere, plus one possibly live rebel and a machinegun! And I'm not even going to stand up till all those Stens 'ave got the safetycatches on! Tell 'em, Steve!"

Collier heaved a sigh of relief, wiped sweat from his brow, and turned to speak to the soldiers.

In the Security Office at the Panama City airport John Dall sat holding a mug of coffee, watching Miguel Sagasta and Modesty Blaise as they studied a map spread on the table. Modesty wore a camouflage jacket and trousers. She had slept for most of the time during the flight from Heathrow. Dall had been unable to sleep, and was tired now. They had arrived only minutes ago to receive news that he felt she had reacted to oddly. At first she had seemed anxious, but this had quickly passed to be replaced by a sparkling eagerness, as if the challenge had brought her a surge of exhilaration.

"Your friends and all on the train with them are trapped," Sagasta was saying. "The track is destroyed, the telephone line also." He looked at Modesty curiously. "When you called from England, why did you ask if I could have listening watch kept on those lines at the border exchange?"

She shook her head with a touch of impatience. "I don't know, Miguel. It just seemed right." She pushed back a wisp of hair from her brow. "The lines on this side of the break are probably sound, so they offer a possible avenue of communication. I must have felt it might be useful."

Sagasta smiled. "You have a great instinct, my dear, and now logic has caught up with it. Willie Garvin seems to be on the same wavelength, for when he left the capital he took one of the office phones with him. This is now connected to the lines on this side of the break and a hundred metres or so from the train," he laid a finger on the map, "about here, not far from the 125-kilometre post. That is how we know the location." He looked up. "So I have spoken directly to Willie. The border exchange patched him through to this office. Do you wish to speak with him, Modesty? It will take a few minutes. He has returned to the train but left a man by the phone who will call him if need be."

She hesitated, then, "If he's taken charge there, he could have his hands full. First let's hear what he told you."

"Very well. A party of three rebels blew up the line and lay in ambush, ready to attack with a machinegun when the people descended from the train. Willie forestalled this. One of the three was left alive and made prisoner. While Willie was away connecting the telephone, the man was questioned by the Montelero escort of soldiers. Questioned intensively, I fear, for he did not survive. It was revealed that a rebel force some two hundred strong is approaching from the west, and that he and his late comrades were sent on a day ahead of that force to halt the train and kill the refugees."

Modesty said, "All of them?"

"So he admitted, shortly before he died. Every soul on the train was to be destroyed, leaving no witnesses. That task will now fall to the main body when it arrives, which can be no more than a matter of hours now."

When Modesty looked up from the map Dall saw that her eyes were blank, her face without expression. "Will they do that, Miguel?" she said.

"Without question, my dear. A government in exile is the one threat to their hopes of many years in unchallenged power." Sagasta leaned forward to run a finger across a small section of the map. "The Cobra force is moving from the west along this road, south of these two parallel ridges. There is a narrow pass through the first ridge, here. They can then continue along a track that runs up over the second ridge and down to the railway line."

She said, "How strong is the Montelero escort and what firepower do they have?"

Sagasta looked up, grimfaced. The escort has decamped. They disappeared into the bush with their weapons, heading away from the rebel approach. In due course they will either declare themselves for the rebel cause, or attempt illegal immigration over our border."

Modesty looked at the scale of the map. "That's about seventy miles to the nearest point, going across country. Even Willie can't get a whole mob of men, women and children to the border through that jungle terrain."

Sagasta said, "But there is perhaps something he can do. He wants to take up two sound rails from behind the train and use them to replace the buckled rails in front of the train. Once it is moving again, the rebel force cannot overtake it."

Dall said softly, "The old bastard hasn't lost his touch, Modesty."

But she was watching Sagasta. "You don't look happy, Miguel. What's the snag?"

"I'm sorry. He needs a tool to effect the change. He needs a fishplate spanner, a spanner a metre long. Without it he cannot unbolt the rails and replace them."

Dall said, "Oh, Jesus. Can you get one to him?"

Modesty made an impatient gesture. "Not just one, Johnny."

Sagasta smiled at her. "Of course not. Two would halve the time. I have managed to secure three at short notice, and they are with the aeroplane 1 have hired for you. It is for you to get them to him, Modesty. I am already beyond the limits of my authority."

She touched his arm. "I know that, and I'm grateful. I'll file a flight plan for Santiago, so whatever happens it can't be laid at your door. Will that do?"

Sagasta spread his hands. "Perfectly. Now, do you wish to speak with Willie or will you leave at once?"

She had already made that decision. "I'll go now. He'll be doing everything I might suggest, and I mustn't waste any time. Just pass the message that I'm on my way, please Miguel."

Dall got to his feet as she moved towards him. He said, "No good asking to come with you?"

"Oh, Johnny. You know that's out of the question." She took his face between her hands, studying him. "You're tired. Now give me a kiss, then go and rest. And thank you for everything."

Dall kissed her, holding her close for a moment. "Come back safe," he said. "You hear?"

She laughed softly. "I've never been able to promise that, have I? But don't fret, Johnny, I'll be okay."

He let her go and she moved to the door Sagasta was holding open for her. There she paused, rested a hand briefly on Sagasta's shoulder, looked at Dall for a moment, smiled, flickered an eyelid at him and was gone.

Willie Garvin sat in a corner of the compartment, his eyes closed. He was alone. Collier and Dinah had climbed the ladder to the coach roof above him. With her highly acute hearing, Dinah would be the first to pick up the sound of Modesty's aircraft as it approached.