The group continued down the slope without another word. A large dark patch near the bottom of their side of the valley turned out to be a small wood, an ideal place in which to hide the horses until the sun came up. As they neared it they discovered a small rise between the wood and the river, which made it an even better place of concealment. The ground was arid and peppered with shrubs and stunted trees.
The moon shone as brightly as it had the night before, more so than Stratton would have liked.
Stratton ordered the equipment unloaded and the horses and burros unsaddled for the time being. He spread his shelter canopy on the ground while the Indians stood by, watching him. Stratton removed one of the claymores from its pouch and laid it on the canopy along with the roll of wire, the twine and a couple of wire-cutters.
When the others had completed their tasks they returned to see what Stratton was up to.
‘Sit in a line,’ Stratton said, slipping naturally into instructor mode. ‘I’m going to run through the ambush set-up. If at any time you don’t understand what I’m telling you, just ask me to go through it again.’
‘I feel like I’m back in school,’ Victor said.
‘You are. The difference is that if you screw up this lesson we may all die.’
The Indians moved closer to look at the strange devices that the soldier was holding.
‘The plan is quite simple,’ Stratton went on. ‘The bridge is our ambush point - our killing zone. All we’re going to do is wait for our target vehicle to drive onto the bridge and then we’ll blow it. You’re happy with how to wire up the detonators like I showed you yesterday?’
Victor nodded.
‘David, Bernard?’ Stratton asked.
The two young men nodded.
‘Show me again, quickly,’ Stratton said. He tossed Bernard a claymore and the wire and placed a detonator in front of him.
Bernard confidently unscrewed the detonator-terminal cap from the top of the claymore. He stripped the plastic coating off the ends of the wires with his teeth, picked up the detonator with care, unravelled the wire that was factory-wrapped around it and connected the bared ends, twisting them together. He finished by tying the join in a knot to prevent it from being pulled apart. He inserted the detonator into the claymore and screwed the terminal housing home.
‘That’s good,’ Stratton said. ‘Do I need to see you two do it?’ he asked the others.
‘If you want,’ Victor said. ‘But I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.’
David nodded in agreement.
‘Good. Victor, your job will be to roll out the wire from the bridge all the way to here, which will be the firing point. Put the batteries there but keep them in the bag and nowhere near the ends of the wires.’
‘Of course,’ Victor said.
‘We’ll prepare all the mines here, then take them to the bridge. I’ll lay them out.You boys,’ he said, looking at David and Bernard, ‘will tie them into position and connect them to the main wire which I will lay. Any questions?’
‘What if a car comes along?’ Victor asked.
‘Kebowa and Mohesiwa will watch from the rise. If they see anything one of them will come and warn us. We’ll have plenty of time. Anything else? Okay. Let’s go.’
The men began preparing the claymores.
‘What can I do?’ Louisa asked.
‘You’re going to be my gofer.’
‘Your what?’
‘My go-for-this, go-for-that.’
‘Oh. I see.’
When all was ready the men divided up the mines between them, hanging the canvas bags over their shoulders. Victor handed the twine to Louisa.
Stratton paused on the edge of the rise to observe the general area for a moment. They all stood silently watching and listening, allowing their senses to acclimatise to the sights and sounds of the landscape.
Stratton set off and they headed down the slope to the edge of the river, which was as wide as a main road. Bernard was first in after declaring that it was not deep and he went to the middle, where it reached his waist. They walked out on the other side, the road now a stone’s throw away, and Stratton followed the river bank around a sharp bend where it went beneath the bridge.
They paused to observe the decades-old large iron structure. It was a truss construction, a skeletal design made up of straight girders formed into triangular frames and riveted together. The sides were high enough to allow a lorry to pass beneath where the cross-beams joined over the top.
‘Give us your mines,’ Stratton said to Victor. ‘Tie off the end of the cable at the left base of the bridge. Allow enough to reach the top of the bridge. Then run it back through the river to where we crossed and on back to the mound.’
Victor shared his mines out between the others, including Louisa, and hurried to the base of the bridge with the wire spool.
Stratton led them up the steep bank onto the road. The tarmac came to a ragged stop where it met the bridge’s grid-metal road surface. ‘Put all the mines here,’ he said, pointing down. ‘Bernard. Up you go to the top.’
Bernard started to climb up one of the bridge’s girders. Stratton took a slow walk across the bridge, examining the top and sides as he went. Louisa and David watched him until he was almost at the far end, nearly out of sight in the darkness.
‘You nervous?’ she asked David.
‘Not right now. But I think I will be later.’
‘I’m nervous now. I’ll be exhausted later.’
David smiled at her and went back to watching Stratton. ‘He’s a good man, Stratton, don’t you think?’
‘Yeah, I think he’s a good man.’
Stratton made his way back, inspecting the cross-bars above. ‘David. Climb up. I’ll pass the mines to you and you pass them to Bernard.’
David scurried up. Stratton climbed behind him but stopped only a couple of metres above the road. He stretched a hand down to Louisa. ‘Hand me one mine at a time. Stop when you get to ten.’
She passed him one of the bags. Stratton handed it to David who hefted it up to Bernard who was lying on his belly on top of the bridge.
‘That’s it,’ she said when she had reached ten.
‘The wire and then the twine,’ Stratton said.
Louisa gave them to him.
‘Shall I come up?’ she asked.
‘No. I might need you down there,’ Stratton replied as he climbed up to join the others.
The three men stood up carefully on the top span that ran the length of the bridge. It would have been wide enough to walk on comfortably if it had been lying on the ground but it was unnervingly narrow so high up.
Stratton walked along it to examine the cross-struts and check his calculations. Louisa followed below, hardly taking her stare off him. The long spans that ran parallel with the road were connected by ten cross-struts.
‘One mine under each strut pointing down at the road,’ he called out from halfway along.
‘In the centre?’ David asked.
‘Yes. Let’s do the first one and see how it goes.’ David knelt down and stretched out along the top of the cross-strut, which was narrower than the main spans. Bernard removed a mine from its bag, straightened the ends of the detonator wires and handed it to him. A length of twine followed and when the mine was secured David tied the ends of the detonator wires on top of the strut in readiness for the main wire.
‘Let’s get them all in position first and wire them up after,’ Stratton said, taking the spool, securing the wire to one end of the long span and allowing it to unravel as he walked to the other end.
He climbed down the angled girder at the end and jumped onto the metal road, wincing at a painful twinge in his back. He had forgotten about the wound.
‘Where are you going to put those?’ Louisa asked, indicating the remaining claymores.