Peter O'Donnell - Cobra Trap

Collier said savagely, "What the bloody hell is she playing at?" Nobody answered, and he exhaled with relief as he glimpsed a small black object above the aircraft. A parachute opened and began slanting north as it descended. The Piper flashed on down. A split second after it had vanished behind the ridge there came the heavy bellow of an explosion.

"… try to work it so she blocks the pass," Willie resumed. A thick black cloud of smoke rose in the distance, and as the parachute sank lower her voice came over the radio, a little breathless. "She hit the north end and she's burning nicely. I need both hands to steer this 'chute, so over and out."

The men working on the buckled rails had stopped to stare. Collier whirled and bawled obscenities at them. As they hastily returned to their work he glared at Willie. "She's done what?"

"Crashed the plane in the pass. It'll bum for a while and be too 'ot to 'andle for a lot longer. They can get past on foot by climbing up the west slope a bit, but they won't be able to get the armoured cars through. That's what matters."

Collier grinned wolfishly, watching the parachute and its passenger vanish below the line of the ridge. "The Blaise touch," he said. "You can recognise it anywhere." His expression changed to one of frowning indignation. "How did you know what she was going to do?" he demanded.

Dinah said, "Boy, are you dopey, you've seen it all before. He just knows how she thinks, doesn't he? Now go on, get back to your slavedriver act."

"Watch me," said Collier. He punched Willie gently on the arm. "Give her my love and bring her back safe." He turned to stride back to the working party, shouting. "Come on, you idle bastards! Get those holes levelled up! You're not Minister of Culture now, Santana, you're all ministers of labour, and it's sweat or die! You hear?"

Willie said, "He'll do all right, Dinah. He always does."

She nodded. "It would kill him to let you down. Can you manage all that weight?"

"Sure. It's not too bad."

"Well, you take care. And give a girl a kiss before you go."

He laughed, gathered her in his arms and held her quietly for a moment before kissing the corner of her mouth. "Don't worry. We always come back, don't we?"

"You'd better. Give her my love, too."

"I won't forget." He released her, turned and began to move west along the railway to where the jungle track led up the ridge and on to the pass in the valley beyond.

The slope up from the railway was wooded except where the narrow track ran through it. Beyond the ridge, the ground fell to a valley, and here the jungle ceased, giving way to seamed rock and scrub. The incline down to the valley was long and gentle, the valley itself narrow, for soon the ground rose again to a higher ridge, bare and rocky, to drop almost sheer on the far side.

This second ridge was split by a sharp V, forming a pass which became the track leading on over the nearer ridge and down to the railway. An hour had gone by, but the remains of the Piper still smouldered and the wreckage blocked the pass. The Cobra rebels had outflanked the wreckage on foot by climbing some way up the west slope of the V, and were now deployed in the valley, pinned down by sparing but very accurate fire from the northern ridge before them.

Modesty Blaise and Willie Garvin lay in the shallow depression on the crest, a sandy hollow rimmed on its southern edge by a screen of foliage they had cut and dragged into position. From this vantage point they could look down upon the area where the rebels had taken cover two hundred yards below. An early attempt to rush the summit had been broken up well before the leading attackers were halfway up the slope. Since then there had been outbursts of smallarms fire, achieving no result, and an attack using mortars. Nine bombs had fallen along the ridge, the nearest on rocky ground some thirty feet away, but the hollow had given good protection. Only a direct hit would have any effect.

Willie lay resting. Modesty was on watch, gazing through a gap in the foliage. Willie thought she looked more relaxed and serene than he remembered for several weeks past. She had greeted him warmly, giving him a hug when they met, and had been talking easily and happily between the short periods of attack.

"If they've got any sense," said Willie, "they'll send someone to climb the far side of the ridge across the valley. From that peak at about eleven o'clock from 'ere he'll 'ave us in view. Range about two-fifty. He could just spray us."

Modesty nodded. "I had a look at the far side from the Piper. It's steep but climbable. I think they'll make it in another halfhour." She turned her head to smile at him, and it was the rare smile he always held in his mind's eye, warm and humorous and intimate, the smile that made him feel he could pluck the moon from the sky for her, and was for him alone because of all they had shared through the long years.

She returned to her task, watching the valley below, and Willie settled himself more comfortably, closing his eyes, waiting for his turn to take watch in another ten minutes if no emergency occurred before then. She was extraordinarily relaxed, he thought.

Once the rebels put a man on that peak, quite apart from being able to fire down on the hollow he would also be able to signal any attempt by the defenders to disengage, which would give them only a two hundredyard start in reaching the train. That was too little, for the old locomotive would have to move very slowly over the repaired section of track, and in any case would take some time to reach more than walking speed.

Willie was fully aware that Modesty knew all this as well as he did, yet she was clearly unworried about the problem of disengagement. "She'll have something in mind," he decided comfortably. "She always does."

Half a mile away, Collier moved to where his wife sat near the track on a cushioned seat taken from the train. "What's new, sweetheart?" he said, dropping down beside her with a grunt of relief.

"Looks pretty good," said Dinah. "We're not making smalltalk, but Modesty came through ten minutes ago to say there's been no fresh attack since that last mortarbomb effort. I don't think she's conning me, because I've heard no firing. How's your team doing? I haven't heard you bawling at them lately."

"No need," said Collier. "There's nothing like being scared spitless to boost your output. From the moment that firing started they've been working like demented beavers."

"No snags?"

"Plenty. There are twelve sleepers to each section of track, and two fishplates on each sleeper. Every fishplate is bolted to the sleeper and to the rail. We've unbolted the buckled rails and replaced two busted fishplates with two from the track behind the train. We've unbolted one good rail from behind and bolted it in front. Now we're working on the second rail. We've also had to replace a smashed sleeper and repair bits of track—I mean the stones the sleepers are bedded in."

"So plenty of snags but you're coping?"

"Yes. Rather well, to be honest. I just pretend I'm Modesty or Willie and come up with an answer." Collier shook his head, frowning. "It's bloody patronising of them if you ask me. I shall have words with them on their return."

Dinah smiled and felt for his hand. "No. You'll just rave at them for leaving it late and taking needless risks and so on, the way you always do."

Collier pressed her hand, then got to his feet, grinning. "They'd start worrying about me if I didn't," he said.

Another thirty minutes had gone by. Willie lay prone on watch. Beside him, Modesty lay on her back. There had been one sneak attempt by two men to crawl within grenade range of the hollow, but Willie's grenade range on the downslope combined with his unique power and accuracy was almost three times theirs and they were now dead.