Globusz^® Publishing 

eter was unceremoniously carried on a stretcher below decks and although Helen wanted to talk to the Captain and explain their presence, the time did not seem appropriate as he obviously had a guest to attend to. She was moreover concerned about Peter and so accompanied him below to the ships hospital. When they got there Peter, whilst being treated, was adamant he would not take any drugs or pain killers that would make him drowsy. “Just stop the bleeding and bandage it up,” he said, “I have to talk to your commanding officer and I want to be lucid.” Fortunately the bullet had gone straight through a fleshy part of the shoulder and so there was no requirement for extensive surgery. A wash followed by a hot cup of coffee and an hour later they were escorted to what was obviously a conference room.

The room had grey steel walls adorned with several pictures. A white board occupied one end wall whilst a couple of portholes with views over the flight deck completed the decor. Comfortable looking leather upholstered chairs and a table with a telephone comprised the furniture. Peter, his shoulder strapped and his arm in a sling gently lowered him self into one of the chairs as Helen immediately made her way to a porthole.

“The helicopters gone, and so has the visitor. But we don’t appear to be moving.” She announced before turning and smiling at their escort who was standing stiff and straight by the one and only door. “The visitor... was he the President... of Cordillera I mean.” She said trying to introduce some lightness into the situation.

“I wouldn’t know ma’am.” Was all the answer she received.

She turned back to the porthole and looked first one way then the other. “The glider... Peter the glider’s gone too.”

“So! We don’t need it any more Helen.” 

“Well... no. But it would have been nice to keep it for a while. I suppose that helicopter blew it over the side.”

“No ma’am, I understand it was taken below to the hanger deck.”

“Oh! Thank you. Yes that would be best I suppose. Did it go down on an aircraft lift?”

“I expect so ma’am.”

Now she had got him talking even a little bit she wasn’t going to stop there. “So what are we waiting here for?”

“Some officers will be with you shortly ma’am.”

“You know things are a little bit urgent, people may get killed while we are hanging around. Can you ask these officers to hurry up?”

At this suggestion the man just rolled his eyes and smiled. “No way ma’am, you can’t hurry the officers. They’ll come in their own sweet time.” Just then as if in response to his comment there was a noise outside the door and as their escort stiffened up even more, the door opened. The Captain entered immediately followed by two more officers. The second of the officers, a tough looking guy, nodded to their escort to leave. Peter started to get up but was immediately told to relax and stay seated whilst Helen took a seat on the arm of his chair beside him.

The Captain opened the conversation. “Afternoon, sir, ma’am. I’m Captain Lasal and I command this group, these are two of my officers; my Exec’ Commander Hallman and Commander Joyce of the marines. I understand you wish to speak to me. But first it would be best if you introduce yourselves and tell me why you landed on my ship and delayed our departure.”

Peter did the talking, introducing him self and Helen then explaining they were in this country at the behest of the (IMAF). And that they had escaped from prison. The Exec’ raised his eyebrows, the Captains face remained bland only twitching when later in the explanation Peter mentioned Drew Roband was also in the prison. The Captain interrupted with a raised hand. “You know this man?”

With some difficulty Peter felt in the back pocket of his jeans and produced the letter that Drew had given him such a long while ago yet it was only five days. “Perhaps this will validate my credentials sir,” he said, handing the letter over.

The Captain quickly scanned it then re-read it more slowly before handing it to his Exec’. The marine commander leaned over the Exec’s shoulder reading the note at the same time whilst their Captain leant back in his chair and examined his two guests. When they finished reading the Exec’ commented. “This appears to be our man sir.”

Captain Lasal quickly interrupted before he could say more. “Billy, go check it out will you, you have his wife’s number. And check it out with the senator too, if you can get a hold of him.” The Exec’ stood and quickly left the room.

“If you have an outside phone line that I could use it would be much appreciated. I have to talk to the (IMAF).” Peter asked, before adding, “We have been out of touch for three of four months.”

“And I need to speak to my sister,” interjected Helen.

“All in good time, another hour or so shouldn’t make much difference. Now would you mind explaining what the hell’s been going on? Start at the beginning when you first came to this country.”

Peter began the story with a few comments inserted by Helen. Another interruption came when they spoke about the dam possibly being blown up and destroyed. Again Captain raised his hand and stopped them before reaching for the phone. “Get me the navigating officer now.” He paused for a few moments before someone came on the line. “Lieutenant, I want a quick estimate, if the dam...” he looked at Peter raising his eyebrows.

Helen answered the unspoken question. “The Milagro dam or Presa Milagro, it’s about fifty miles up the Rio Milagro.”

“If the Milagro dam broke what would be the worst case scenario, and would we feel the wave front here. It’s about fifty miles up river.”... “As soon as possible, say thirty minutes... max.” Then putting the phone down he asked Peter to continue.

It was twenty minutes later, by which time they were into questions and answers when the Exec’ returned. He held a hurried whispered conversation with his commanding officer.

“Okay the letter checks out, it appears genuine on both counts. Now you two, I don’t suppose you have any ID... No! You wouldn’t... If we call the (IMAF) would they confirm it’s you?”

“Yes, if you call head office London. If you have a pen I’ll write the number down for you.”

The Captain, being ultra-cautious, rejected his offer. “No! It would be best if we found the number ourselves.”

However Helen immediately saw a problem in the idea. “Peter, London’s five hours ahead... What time is it now?” She added turning to the Captain.

“Damn the time zones, 16:20 miss,” after a quick look at his watch.

“So that’s nine thirty in the evening by the time we get through Peter, will anyone be there?”

“Not a chance, you will have to get my boss at his home and I don’t know that number. I know his name of course but not his address.”

“Look Captain Lasal you have that letter from Drew, you can ring my sister in the U.K. and confirm who I am. But be a bit circumspect, she may be thinking I’m dead by now. Won’t that be enough?”

“With respect ma’am, if I’m going to invade another country to rescue a U.S. citizen and also stop that dam from being blown up. I need to be damn sure I’m doing the right thing.”

“Oh! Yes I suppose so.”

The room was quiet for half a minute as everyone thought over the implications. Peter broke the silence first. “If we write down a list of all our contacts and phone numbers where possible you can verify some of them surely.”

“Commander Joyce I want a plan, two plans. One to rescue the prisoners from that jail and the other plan to secure the dam. Get anyone else you need involved and include these two people. But first Sir, ma’am I will take you up on that offer of a list of contacts, as soon as you can please. Keep me informed everyone.” With that comment ringing in their ears the Captain left, no doubt to do some phoning of his own and ‘push the buck upstairs’ as it were.

The planning began in the same room. Peter and Helen after making their list of contacts were tasked to draw a detailed map of the prison. Two planning teams were set up with a loose tie between them. The primary task was to secure the dam and to stop it from being blown up. The secondary task and the one that Peter and Helen were helping with was to rescue Drew, a U.S. citizen, and return him to the carrier. If this ‘exercise’ resulted in the release of the other prisoners so much the better it was decided. Two helicopters were tasked for this job each carrying ten marines armed with light weapons and ‘flash-bangs’. A single fixed wing aircraft, an AV8B, would provide further ground support if necessary. Much to Helen’s disgust, it was agreed Peter would fly in one of the helicopters to provide guidance support and liaison should it be necessary. Helen argued strongly against this, he was injured, her Spanish was better, but all to no avail. She was to be left behind, safe in the carrier.

Annoyed with this outcome and muttering words of male chauvinism, Helen wondered over to the other group just in time to here the question ‘what’s the phase of the moon?’

“It’s nearly full sir,” the navigating officer answered, without really thinking.

“But it doesn’t rise until about just before five... in the morning.” Helen added.

“Actually it’s 04:41 sir,” the navigating officer corrected her. 

Making a guess that he was referring to sea level moon rise Helen made a bid to be accepted by the group. “I think that’s at sea level, you will find it’s a little later over the... target, because of the mountains. I take it you were referring to moonrise over the damn.”

Looks were exchanged as the navigating officer conceded that she was indeed correct, and a gap opened between two of the officers. The invitation to join them was plain. ‘I’m in,’ she thought stepping forward with alacrity. It was then just a case of keeping her mouth shut until she had some definite input to make. This occurred some five minutes later when the opportunity arose with a discussion about the height of the water in the dam. “The water level is about... two and a half, maybe three meters below the top of the dam wall. Judging by the size of the soldiers on the dam... At least it was three nights ago when we swam across the lake.”

“What was the state of the water?” asked Commander Joyce.

“Calm... not cold, in fact quite warm.”

“What were you wearing?” This question, from one of the younger men, obviously had little bearing on the planning so Helen just looked at the young man and smiled. The meaning became abundantly clear as he blushed.

“There was one soldier standing sentry, somewhere in the middle of the span... smoking. Others were walking past... Eastwards. I think they were searching for us.”

“So how close were you to the dam?”

Meaning the soldiers she thought. “About a thousand metres, maybe a little less. We were down moon from them, it had just risen.”

“Hmm! That would be about... 03:00 then?” The navigating officer suggested.

“I guess so, we didn’t have a watch. I know a little bit about the dam if it would help, my... husband David, he designed it.”

Once again the younger man jumped in with the inevitable, though irrelevant, question. “Where is he now?”

“Dead! ... They shot him in the head.” This brought a hiss of in-drawn breath, followed by a brief silence before Helen told them all she new of the dam and how David had described it to her.

Commander Joyce summed up the feelings of the group. “If they are going to blow the dam then they will probably do it from inside. That being the case that door, topside, in the buttress on the rim of dam, becomes crucial. We must secure that as a priority which means we take the centre of the dam first then move outwards to secure the rest of it. Okay?”

Nods of agreement from most of the others before the young man voiced his agreement with the commander, “Yes!” then added, “But in that case the sentry in the middle is the problem. We’ll need a sniper to take him out.”

A second officer, ignoring his junior commented, “I take it we don’t want to use lethal force unless we have to?”

“No! We don’t want to shoot anyone unless we’re about to be fired on.”

“Swimmers or divers Sir?” One of the other officers suggested.

“With a possible eight or nine foot climb onto the top of the dam wall, in silence! Make any noise and I think the sentry will use lethal force... But a midnight sun may help.”

Puzzled by his reference to a midnight sun, Helen hesitated then took a deep breath and ‘threw her hat in the ring’ adding. “The glider is very quiet.”

* * *

It was late in the evening of the same day and the president of Cordillera was hosting a gathering with two of his ministers at his hacienda below the dam. The Minister of Defence, Seņor Vittorio Corbo, had also brought his daughter Nancy Corbo de Lozada who had become a sort of de-facto minister. Ostensibly this was a social gathering, but in reality the president was using it to inform them ‘off the record’ about his discussions with the norteamericanos. The Minister of the Interior was distracted, thinking about the dam above his head filled with gas and explosive. He found it concentrated the mind excessively and was only vaguely listening to the conversation. It was only when El Presidante came to recount his departure from the carrier that Noberto’s attention was caught. He leant, forward all ears and began paying rapt attention to what his president had to say. “These two people, a man and a woman, landed right there on the flight deck, they were using a hang-glider thing made out of bamboo and string would you believe. They’d flown from the cliffs above the bay. Then turning to Noberto he added, “What do you think of that Noberto, your protection of the U.S. fleet was all in vain and didn’t work well at all. One of them was shot though, by the patrol, he looked bad to me. That should dissuade them from trying such a stunt again. Now if they had been terrorists instead of – whatever... attention seekers, they could have done some real damage. Fancy having the cheek to land on the carrier?”

Noberto’s mind was racing as he waited with bated breath for someone else to ask the obvious question, Seņorita Corbo obliged. “And what happened to these two young fools Seņor Carlos. Did you bring them back with you? Are they in prison for causing us such embarrassment with the U.S.?”

“Ha! No, I left it to the Captain. He said he would frighten them a little before letting them go. Then when you get hold of them Noberto you can frighten them some more.”

The Minister of the Interior smiled politely as he was supposed to do whilst inwardly he fumed and contemplated murder. ‘If I ever get my hands on those two again I’ll... Damn that man Fidel, he assured me that the prison was secure, yet he allowed them to build a bloody hang-glider and let them escape. No wonder they travelled so fast. It’s not surprising he couldn’t catch them.’

“Don’t be too hard on those two Seņor Noberto,” The Minister of Defence, Seņor Vittorio, commented whilst partially reading the expressions on his face and laying a hand on his shoulder for emphasis. “We were all young once. Perhaps we should recruit them into the air force.”

With this remark from such a fool as the Minister of Defence, Noberto nearly broke down. It took a super-human effort on his part to control his features and refrain from shrugging of the hand on his shoulder. He than had to endure pleasantries for the next half hour or so before the prearranged phone call from Fidel rang his mobile. Making his apologies he walked into the next room where he could talk more freely. A moment later and he returned making his excuse that he had to return to the city tonight.

“You're not staying Noberto? What business can be so urgent to drag you away at this hour?”

“It seems there may be more of a problem with those two foolish flyers. But please, it is my problem; you stay and enjoy the rest of the evening.”

* * *

The first to leave the carrier was the one helicopter containing a very serious looking group of marines. Helen accompanied them. Now, dressed in combat fatigues and with camouflage paint streaked over her face, she watched over the careful stowage of the folded hang-glider. They flew low directly towards the steep cliffs before climbing quickly. The night was dark with a light overcast so once flying above the forest the pilot needed his night vision goggles to stay low and skim the rain forest at tree top height. Flying low they hoped to stay out of contact with the radar at the airport which was considered important. The tricky part was to be at their destination, landing on the ledge from which Helen and Peter had looked down on the valley two nights before. It was only a twenty minute flight but as soon as they touched down the engines were cut and the rotors stopped. The rotors of a helicopter had a very specific radar signature when turning, whilst a stationary helicopter on the edge of the cliff should not change the radar return significantly. The group of marines disembarked quickly. Perimeter sentries were set up and the remaining ten marines with Helen and the glider moved of into the forest.

Helen attempted to take one end of the glider but male chauvinism prevailed and she was relegated to walking behind it. They did soften the blow somewhat by indicating she would have difficulty enough keeping up with them without the additional encumbrance of the glider. And in this they were not wrong! The pace they set meant occasionally she had to run or be trampled underneath by the rest of the column.

The second group to leave the carrier were the two helicopters bound for the prison. The first carried sixteen marines whilst in the second helicopter were another six marines, Peter and a medical team. Again they flew in low towards the cliffs before climbing then heading in a wide detour over the rain forest and staying well out of the hearing range of anyone on the dam. With nothing to see and being unable to hold any sensible conversation due to the noise, the journey became long and tedious. Peter, cursing his ill luck at being disabled and was still fuming at being out manoeuvred by Helen who was taking part in the actual assault on the dam. He was also concerned about her safety and had insisted that she wore a flack jacket and a life jacket.

At last the red light in the cabin came on, glowing eerily in the darkness of the helicopter, five minutes to arrival and six of the marines in the lead helicopter donned night vision goggles. The amber came on. One minute. The lead helicopter heading straight for the zigzag road, climbed several hundred feet, popped over the prison wall and dropped into the quadrangle. The green light came on and sixteen marines left the helicopter in less than eight seconds. Two of the group with night vision goggles ran towards the guard-post and overpowered him before he came to his senses. The other four dashed to the guard’s quarters, two flash-bangs were tossed in before they entered then standing in the middle of the room persuaded the guards that they would be more comfortable lying face down on the floor. It was all over without a shot being fired and before the second helicopter landed, disgorging the reinforcements and Peter.

Eager to be the one to free his friend Peter, escorted by two marines, made his way over to the guard-house and collected the keys before heading to the men's quarters. Everyone was awake, gazing through the windows at the helicopters as he unlocked the door. Only to be confronted by Miguel who threw his arms around him.

“Seņor Peter!”

“Drew?” Peter asked. “Where’s Drew?”

“They took him Seņor Peter. They took him away the day you left. We have not heard what happened to him. The guards, they not tell us anything.”

“Damn! If they have done anything to him they’ll have me to answer for let alone the U.S. marines. Come with me Miguel.” 

Peter turned on his heels and dashed out with Miguel close behind followed by the rest of the men. They soon found the Lieutenant in command of the marines and Peter confronted him. “Drew, he’s not here, the guards took him away the day I left. Where’s the Commandant Carlos?”

“I know Drew Roband’s not here, I’ve already spoken to the commandant and he said they haven't any U.S. citizens here... never have held any.” He replied as doubt began to show on his face.

Miguel showed indignation. “Seņor Lieutenant, he lies. I know this man Drew, he is my friend.” He added proudly. “Give me your gun I will make him tell you where they have taken him.”

At this suggestion the lieutenant backed away with horror and put one hand on the gun at his hip as if to reassure him self that it was still there. “I can’t do that!”

“Have you taken him prisoner?” Peter asked.

“Well no, not formally. I have no authority to detain him, not unless he was abusing a U.S. citizen. He’s in his office with two of my man.”

“Then you had best remove your men sir.” Peter said before turning to Miguel and adding, “come with me and bring two of the biggest ugliest looking men with you. We’re going to have a word with him ourselves.”

The Lieutenant looked even more horrified. “You can’t do that. I can’t let you beat him up.”

Miguel was however up to the situation and confronted the lieutenant. “Seņor Lieutenant, you are a norteamericano of the U.S. Navy, are you going to interfere with a... discussion between two people of my country. Do you have the authority for this Seņor?” Then he took a step closer to the man. “Please Seņor; you will withdraw your men.”

Peter followed by the lieutenant, Miguel and two very rough looking compatriots entered the office of the commandant. The lieutenant had by now caught the gist of their intentions and opened the conversation by speaking to his two men. “You two come with me, as this man has not been abusing any U.S. citizens we have to leave, he is no longer our responsibility.”

Carlos wedged in his chair behind his desk beamed. “Thank you Lieutenant and about time too. You have not heard the last of this; my government will be lodging a protest in the strongest possible... terms.” His voice tailed off as he saw the look of pleasure on Miguel’s face. From there he glanced first at one then the other of the men standing either side of Miguel. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and looked at Peter but there was no support there either. “Lieutenant, wait, you can't leave me at the mercy of these people.”

“I’m sorry sir, as you said there are no U.S. citizens involved. I have absolutely no authority to interfere in the actions of another sovereign state. So if you will excuse me I must leave and report back to my commanding officer.”

Through out this exchange neither Peter nor Miguel had moved. Now Peter reached over to one of the marines and gently removed from his hand the pistol which obviously belonged in Carlos’s empty holster. With this simple action Carlos’s face took on a deathly grey appearance. However the final straw came when Peter handed the pistol back to Miguel whose face lit up with eager anticipation as he lovingly took it and caressed the grey metal barrel.

“No! Seņor Lieutenant,” Carlos squeaked. “I think now you mention it again we did have an Americano... a man who said he was from the U.S. He was taken away from here a week ago.”

“His name?”

Carlos lowered his head and looking at his desk muttered, “He said his name was Roband,” then raising his eyes added, “but lots of people give false names.”

“Of course, I would have to find this man and confirm he is indeed the man we are seeking.”

Peter very quietly added. “Who took him? ... Where did they take him?”

“The man who took him Seņor, his name is Fidel... Fidel Gamboa, he took him away. The day after you and la seņora disappear.”

“Fidel!”... ‘Fidel, now where have I heard that name before,’ Peter wondered.

“Where did he take him, where can I find this Fidel?” The lieutenant asked.

“Seņor Lieutenant, I swear I do not know... he lives some where in the city of Sao Agusta.”

By now the lieutenant had wised up to this game and with an abrupt gesture turned away. “In that case Seņor Carlos I have no proof you ever had this man in your custody. I therefore have no cause to arrest you... You’re of no further use to me.”

Taking his queue from the lieutenant Peter, with a smile on his face, took the pistol from Miguel and a stepped forward whilst stroking the blue steel of the pistol.

“No!” The single word escaped from Carlos’s throat as he swallowed with difficulty. “I understand he is employed by the Minister of the Interior, Seņor Moreno Garcia.”

“That’s it,” said Peter, “the old man, that’s where I heard his name mentioned before. The old man was investigating the ministry of the interior when Fidel caught him... Where did he take Drew? You know... It is very difficult to walk with a bullet in your knee cap.” Then whilst playing with the gun added. “I am so unused to these things. Is this the safety?”... Click! ... “It could so easily go off by accident could it not?”

“Bang!” Miguel shouted and then laughed at the reaction from Carlos.

“Seņor Lieutenant. Please Seņor... I did hear him mention la presa Milagro. There is a workman’s hut below the dam. I think they could be keeping the man there.”

* * *

Noberto didn’t wait for his chauffeur, coming down the steps of the president’s hacienda he was in too much of a hurry and besides he needed the privacy. His car was there and he jumped in, causing the car to shake with fright as the door slammed shut. He then vented his anger on the throttle pedal which in turn took it out of the gravel of the driveway. The car skidded and slued out of the gates quickly building up speed along the good road. But he very nearly lost it when he joined the main ‘dirt track’ down the valley and hit the potholes. It calmed him down somewhat and he pulled over to have a think. ‘The U.S. Navy has the escaped prisoners and the carrier hasn’t sailed yet. But they haven’t made any complaints yet either. So, cause enough mayhem now, tonight. Get rid of that fool of a president, the MOD Seņor Vittorio Corbo and his interfering daughter Nancy. Then he could take over running the country and would be able to tell those norteamericanos to go stuff their accusations where the sun don’t shine.’ Next thing he called Fidel on his mobile. “Where are you?”... “Well get to the dam now, immediately.”... “Not at night. Then don’t use the helicopter, drive yourself.”... “Borrow one, or steal it, I don’t care. In fact lookout for my car, I’m a mile or so down the road from our presidents country retreat.”... “Si! We will go to the dam together.”

He had to wait two hours before Fidel arrived in an army four-by-four he had commandeered. Fidel got in the passenger seat beside Noberto who, having already turned the car, started driving for the dam. Angrily he rounded on the man. “I thought you said that prison in the mountains was secure. You let those two... people escape. They just build a hang-glider and fly away. No wonder you couldn’t catch them.”

Fidel’s jaw dropped as his mind went into over-drive. “What! A glider. How? ... Yes! That would explain it all. That imbecile Carlos... I’ll kill him. How did they do it?” Then turning to Noberto he asked, “Where are they now?”

“On board the US carrier in the bay. Bleating it all out to the Captain no doubt. That’s why we are heading past the dam then we blow it. It should cause a bit of confusion. You have the trigger?”

“Si! Well no, it‘s locked in that stone hut at the west end of the dam. I have the key.”

Noberto getting even more annoyed, almost shouted at him as every step he took seemed to be thwarted, he took a deep breath and in a calm voice asked. “Why in hell did you leave it there?”

Fidel could have been more diplomatic in his reply. “I could hardly carry it around with me in a plastic-bag. You forget I’ve been chasing those two prisoners for four days now.”

Noberto braked hard, the heavy car skidded on the loose surface. He was about to strike out, his fist, balled and tense when he remembered the other man was younger and probably fitter. With difficulty he controlled him self. “And what happened to the Shaun guy, the one who set this up. I trust he also is not going to escape.”

“No!” said Fidel a smirk on his face, “he’s guarding the explosives.”

“Guarding them! I thought you said the explosives were already wired up... in the void... and that is filled with gas.”

“True! And that’s where he is, but I did put extra oxygen in the void. I figured if things went wrong, you would need a fall guy.”

Noberto let out a hiss of breath, before putting the car into gear and moving off. Now, he realised he couldn’t trust Fidel at all, they would both have to go and retrieve the trigger. An hour later and they were at the top of the cable car, walking along the track towards the dam. Slowly the features of the dam gained substance and they saw a small red glow from a cigarette near the middle of the span. Fidel cursed. “Damn that sentry I told them all no smoking whilst on duty. Do they take any notice? Not from a bloody civilian. I bet he wouldn’t be smoking if he new what he was standing on.”

“Is it safe?” Noberto asked nervously.

“Si! We sealed the door with masking tape. You can’t smell a thing, let alone light it.”

“All the same, he shouldn’t be smoking.”

At that moment, as if he’d heard the comment, the sentry took a last pull on the cigarette then flicked the remainder of it over the dam wall. The cigarette butt caught an updraft of the wind and flew above his head to land behind him.

“Leave him be, one more thing that may trigger the explosion... For the enquiry afterwards!”

“Be quiet then, let’s see if we can get in the hut without him being aware.” Noberto whispered.

“As long as he doesn’t shoot first and ask questions afterwards.” Fidel replied nervously.

Keeping close the rock face and in deep shadow they crept along the road past the foot of the steps that lead up to the west buttress. A little further and they reached the door of the stone hut which Fidel unlocked. He then crept inside followed by Noberto who, removing the key re-locked it from the inside. “That sentry’s not very attentive is he?” Noberto muttered. “Now where’s this trigger?”

“In that plastic-bag beneath the window.”

Noberto picked up the bag and laying it gently on the table removed the ‘toy-aircraft’ controller from the bag. There was just enough light seeping through the small window to view the controls which he examined carefully. “How does it work?” he asked. “I mean how do you trigger it?”

“Well first you switch it on here, then push this forward and over to the left which puts the toy-aircraft into a dive if you see what I mean. Then you press this one which is the bomb release. He did it this way so that it wouldn’t be triggered accidentally by some kid playing with a similar toy nearby.”

* * *

The marines had great ‘feel’ for the rain forest and an unerring sense of direction, it didn’t take long before the column arrived on the west shoulder of the dam. The lieutenant in charge immediately issued his orders, sentries out in a perimeter and a scout forward to have a look at the dam and see what was happening. Helen was with another marine who had volunteered to accompany her on the hang-glider. He was a big coloured U.S. marine nicknamed Nails. “Why do they call you Nails?” Helen had asked when they were introduced.

“It goes back a long way ma’am; I had a trick of pushing a nail into a piece of wood with a fifty cent piece. I guess it all started from that.” To assemble the glider took well over the half hour that she had anticipated and allowed for, mainly due to her compatriot’s questioning of every fastening and every guy. “Are you sure it’s right? Are you sure it’s strong enough?”

In the end Helen had stopped, taken him to one side and had a quiet word. “Listen Nails, Peter and I, we’ve flown it six times and travelled over a hundred miles with it. Everything will be fine, just trust me... Besides we will be over the water most of the flight and only some thirty metres high.”

At this moment the lieutenant returned from a visit to the top of the granite shoulder. “Are we all ready? The glider completed and everything secure. No bits left over?”

Helen turned on him and was about to say something sharp when she bit it off, realising that it was only the tension of the moment. It must be getting to all of them. “Nearly ready sir, just the last few bits and a check overall, say five minutes.”

“Good! Excellent, I’ll call the ground support aircraft and have him ready.”

“If you’ll wait a moment sir, until I’ve done all the checks. Also we still have to walk the glider to the top and hook on.”

“Okay! Nothing starts until you’re ready, you call the off.”

Helen walked back to the glider and meticulously went over each connection. Determined not to be rushed she took her time and only when everything was completed did she pronounce that she was ready. Helen and Nails carried the glider to just below the top of the shoulder. Then leaving it with another marine they both crawled forward the last few metres and lay down beside the lieutenant and his scout. Helen noticed a slight breeze coming from her right as she did so. The lieutenant had a pair of night glasses to his eyes.

“How’s it going Rocky?” Nails greeted the scout at the same time as Helen asked. “Where is he? How far away do you think he is?”

Rocky, the scout, answered Nails first. “Fine Nails, he’s nearly asleep.” Before turning to Helen “The sentry’s fifty metres this side of the centre hut... smoking.” He added disgustedly. “You can see the glow of his cigarette. I estimate him to be about two hundred metres away.”

“Has he moved whilst you have been watching?”

“No more than a couple of strides or so.”

Helen paused estimating how long it would take them to fly there, a curve out over the lake then back in and hit him from behind as long as he doesn’t turn around. A minute, no more than two certainly. “How long has he had that cigarette going for?” She asked.

“Pardon!”

The lieutenant put down the night glasses and looked at Helen.

“How long has he been smoking that cigarette – Rocky? What does he do when he lights another one? ... Does he turn away from the breeze, is he chain smoking, or what?” She explained patiently.

“Oh! I see. He’s had that one going for over five minutes, perhaps more and must be near the end of it now. Last time he flipped it over the edge of the dam then waited five minutes or so before lighting up again... He turned away from the edge when he lit up.”

Helen paused weighing up the odds. ‘Should we go now or wait? We’re in no hurry,’ she thought. “I suggest we wait then! Soon as he lights up again we launch.” Then before the lieutenant could complain Nails backed her up. “I agree! Sir! One hand holding a cigarette gives me one more second to hit him. He’ll have to get rid of it first.”

At that moment the Rocky muttered, “There it goes.” They all saw it, a small red glow shoot out from the sentries hand but when it caught the breeze coming over the rim it flipped back over his head to land in a shower of sparks behind him. “There’s some wind blowing over the rim, will it bother you ma’am?”

“I hope not.” Helen muttered.

They waited! Two minutes went by and still they waited. The lieutenant was more impatient than the others and couldn’t control his eagerness. “What happens if that was his last cigarette?”

“Then he wouldn’t have replaced the packet in his breast pocket... sir,” the scout commented.

Helen, after a moments thought, decided to give control of the operation back to the lieutenant. “I think if we go back to the glider and get hooked on sir. Then as soon as the sentry lights up and turns away you can give us a signal with a torch. You have a torch sir?” When she received a nod to this Helen continued. “At the same time if you call in the midnight sun and we launch.”

“Yes! – Good, you two go and get hooked on. You have your glasses handy?”

Helen and the marine tapped their breast pockets and with a nod crawled of back to the glider lying just below the ridge line. “That was nicely done ‘ma’am’... giving the responsibility of the off back to the lieutenant. It should have been his call anyhow.” Helen said nothing but inwardly smiled to her self. The perception of this guy was quite astonishing considering the strain he must be under. They stood under the glider and Helen hooked on in the usual fashion whilst her marine hooked on with a specially made quick release from a parachute harness. They both donned their dark glasses but left them up on their foreheads. The glasses were rather like swimming goggles and darker than sunglasses. All was ready, it only remained to wait and wait. Helen began thinking back to that first time on the roof of the washrooms at the prison. ‘How long ago was that, only six nights? It felt like a life time and now I’m in the Captain’s seat... so to speak. I bet he’s nervous. Now how do I reassure a 6’2” 180 lb. hunk of muscle?’ She leant over to him. “When I say go we take six strides then push forward and remember my strides are a bit shorter than yours Nails. When we land if you have any trouble with the sentry give me a nod and I’ll thump him for you.”

It seemed to do the trick. A guffaw of amusement escaped from his serious face before he replied very quietly. “Yes ma’am. I’ll do that, just so long as you don’t tell anyone though.”

At long last the lieutenant flashed his torch, just a quick on off but it was enough. Helen took charge. “Right lets walk forwards a few paces... Now ready, take six strides and dive forward off the slope. Go!”