A group of horsemen in the far distance beyond the tented camp caught his eye. They could only be Neravistas and they seemed to be heading around the inside of the perimeter. If they continued on that route they would move around the outside of the smoulder - ing shanty-town encampment, down a finger of jungle and eventually to the cliff before heading up to the stables. If they stuck close to the cliff edge they might find Louisa.
Stratton looked again towards the cliff, this time trying to spot the rope bundles. He thought he saw movement by one of them. It had to be Louisa. It would take a while to lower enough rope to reach the bottom in order to climb down, time that she might not have.
Stratton had seen enough. He needed to get down there as soon as possible.
The machine gun on the far side of the stables opened up with a sustained burst of fire. They were under attack again.
A mortar shell exploded on the other side of the corral. The two M60s at David’s position started firing towards the cabins.
An explosion at the furthest defensive machine-gun position silenced the gun. Single shots followed and Stratton knew they signalled an attack at that location.
He hurried to the stables, holding his rifle ready to fire. A Neravista appeared in the open field and Stratton dropped him with a single shot. Smoke rose from the sandbags of the furthest M60 position and the two rebels who had manned it lay dead across their defences.
A bullet struck the side of the stables and Stratton fired as he moved, killing two Neravistas coming across the open ground from the perimeter. He jumped behind the M60 and tried to get it firing again but it had been critically damaged.
More bullets whined around Stratton. He took up his rifle and shot one charging Neravista after another. Aware that he was running out of ammunition, he pulled another magazine from his pouch as he fired. When the clunk that signalled he was out of bullets came he deftly pressed the catch that released the magazine and pushed in a new one.
Sudden screams came from off to one side and he looked to see two Neravistas charging towards him, their bayonets pointing right at him.
Stratton fired, hitting one, but then his weapon jammed. As he stepped back to parry the inevitable bayonet thrust arrows flew into the attacker’s neck and side and he dropped onto the sandbags, writhing in agony. A volley of rifle fire aimed at the Neravistas’ flanking attack broke it and drove them back.
Victor, the Indians and a dozen rebels were tearing across the open ground towards Stratton. They reached the building and quickly deployed to defensive positions.
The Frenchman was out of breath but he managed a grin as he huddled down at the side of the building. ‘Now I get to save your ass,’ he said, clearly pleased with himself.
‘What are you doing here?’ Stratton asked as he cleared his jammed weapon.
‘I couldn’t leave you here alone.’
Stratton stared at Victor, unsure of his sincerity.
Victor shrugged. ‘Plus hundreds more Neravistas moved in to cover the perimeter. I don’t think they want anyone to get out of here alive.’
‘Don’t get too settled. You have more running to do . . . David!’ Stratton called out, heading to the other side of the building.
A mortar shell landed close by and everyone hit the dirt as shrapnel splattered around. One of the rebels dropped to the ground, holding his face as blood flowed through his fingers. Someone went to help him.
‘They’re preparing to attack!’ David shouted back.
Machine-gun fire came up the slope, raking the defensive position. Stratton hurried, crouching, to the corner to take a look for himself.
Victor followed. ‘Tell me what’s going on.’
‘I think the cliffs may be our only way out of here,’ Stratton said. ‘But if we just try and run for it these guys’ll cut us down before we get there.’
‘Is this another one of those plans where you know the aim but not how to get there?’ Victor asked.
‘Yeah, one of those,’ Stratton agreed.
‘I’m beginning to hate that kind of plan.’
David handed his canvas bag to one of the young rebels and pointed to Stratton. He fired a burst from his machine gun to cover the man as he sprinted across the gap. The other gunner did the same. The young rebel slid to the ground beside Stratton and handed him the bag.
Stratton looked inside. It contained two claymore mines with all their accessories. His mind raced at the possibilities. ‘This is good,’ he muttered, emptying the bag and sorting through the extras that included the standard trip wires and trigger devices.
After a brief survey of the terrain he unwound part of a wire spool and fixed the end to the corner of the building low to the ground. ‘Stay here,’ he said to Victor as he put the contents back into the canvas bag. ‘Don’t let anyone touch the wire,’ he ordered, placing the spool over the end of his gun barrel and setting off towards David’s position, the spool unwinding as he ran.
Stratton flung himself down beside David and the other gunner and set about preparing the claymore. ‘Both of you get ready to move to the high ground at the other side of the corral.’
‘What are we doing?’ David asked as he fired bursts from his machine gun.
‘Running as fast as we can. I suggest you get yourself a lighter gun,’ Stratton advised as he screwed the detonator into the mine. He put a hand on the shoulder of the other gunner, who turned to look at him. ‘I want you to clip as many ammo belts together as you can.’
The young gunner looked at David.
‘Do it,’ David ordered and the young rebel quickly set about the task.
‘Give me a burst,’ Stratton requested and David obliged.
While David fired, Stratton leaned over the front of the sandbags and, holding the mine, pushed the forks that protruded from its base firmly into the ground. It took him several tense seconds to ensure the device was properly wired before he dropped back behind the sandbags.
‘How many have you done?’ he asked the young rebel who was clipping ammo belts together and laying them in loops so that they could feed the M60 easily.
‘Five, six hundred rounds.’
‘That’s good. Join your friend. And keep away from the wire. Go!’
The rebel ran across the gap to the stables. Stratton prepared the second claymore and when it was ready gathered himself for another sprint. ‘Keep their heads down for another minute.’
David obeyed as Stratton pushed off to the corral fence and round to the far side of it. He knelt down and, aiming the mine at the top of the hill, he shoved the forks into the ground and rested the spool of wire beside it. ‘Victor,’ he shouted. ‘Here!’
Victor ran over to him from the stables.
‘Look down there,’ Stratton said, pointing towards the cliffs.
Victor looked where Stratton was pointing as he gulped in some air. Just as he did so a mortar shell landed nearby and they hugged the ground as they were showered in dirt.
‘Louisa’s down there,’ Stratton continued, spitting dirt from his mouth. ‘That’s where you’re going. A dozen or so riders are heading that way and you’re going to take them out. If you can get their horses you might be able to punch your way through the perimeter.’
‘I see,’ Victor said, trying to evaluate all the possibilities and dangers. ‘Sebastian?’ he asked, suddenly wondering where his leader was.
Stratton shook his head. ‘It’s your only hope,’ Stratton said. ‘Stay spread out on your way down, keep shooting and moving and you’ll get there.’
‘And you?’
‘I’m going to buy you the time.’