Cry Wolf

"We'll mount the guns. It won't take long." He was pla

his rage, as he dragged them back along the wadi to where the cars were

parked beyond the caves.

Vicky and Gregoflus were helpless in the ferocity of his grip, swept

along by his strength and his anger.

"Vicky, you will drive for me. I'll serve the gun," he told her.

"Greg, you drive for Gareth." Jake's breathing was shallow and fast

with his rage. "We can only man two cars, one we will use as a

diversion you and Gareth swing south along the back of the ridge and

that will keep them busy while Vicky and I pick up Sara and as many of

the others as we can find alive." The two of them listened to him, and

were swept forward with a fresh urgency. As they ran back along the

wadi, a final brief storm of machine-gun fire and exploding mortar bomb

preceded the deep aching silence which now fell over the desert.

The three of them turned the final bend in the course of the wadi and

came upon a scene of utter pandemonium.

The ravine was filled solidly with those who had escaped the Italian

fire struggling to load their possessions, their tents and bedding,

their chickens and children, on to the panicky bellowing camels and the

skittering braying mules and donkeys.

Already hundreds of riders were galloping away, climbing the sides of

the wadi or disappearing into the labyrinth of broken ground. New

widows wailed in the uproar and their grief was catching, the children

shrieked, and whimpered in sympathy, and over it all hung a blue miasma

of smoke from the cooking fires and dust from the trampling hooves and

milling feet.

The four cars stood in their solid orderly rank, aloof from the masses

of humanity, gleaming in their coats of white paint with the vivid red

crosses emblazoned upon their sides.

Jake pushed a way through for them, towering head and shoulders above

the throng, and when they reached the nearest car Jake grasped Vicky

about the waist and swung her easily up into the sponson. For a moment

his expression softened.

"You don't have to come," he said. "I guess I went a little mad then,

you don't have to drive Gareth and I will take one car." Her face was

deathly pale also, and there were deep bruised smears under her eyes

from a night without sleep and the horrors of the slaughter. Her tears

had dried, leaving dirty smears down her cheeks, but she shook her head

fiercely.

"I'm coming," she said. "I'll drive for you."

"Good girl," said Jake. "Help Gregorius top up. We will need full

fuel tanks. I'll get the Vickers." He turned away, shouting to

Gregorius. "We'll use Miss Wobbly and Tenastelin Vicky will help you

refuel." A detail from the Ras's personal bodyguard were already

bringing the wooden cases of weapons and munitions out of the storage

cave as Jake arrived. Each case was carried between four straining

troopers to where the camels knelt.

It was then lifted into the pa

hastily lashed down.

"Hey, you lot." Jake came up with a group carrying a crated Vickers.

"Bring that along this way." They paused in understanding until Jake

made unmistakable signs, but at that moment a captain of the guard

hurried up to intervene. After one shouted exchange Jake realized that

the language barrier was insurmountable. The man was obstinate and

time was wasting.

"Sorry, friend," he apologized. "But I am in a bit of a hurry," and he

hit him a roundhouse clout that ended the argument conclusively and

sent the man flying backwards into the outstretched arms of two of his

men.

"Come along." Jake pushed the guards with the crate towards where the

cars stood. The thought of Sara lying out there in the valley was

driving him frantic. He imagined her bleeding slowly to death, her

bright young blood draining away into the sandy soil and he hustled the

two men forward through the press of animals and human beings.

As he came up, Gregorius was swinging the crank handle on Miss Wobbly

and the engine caught and ran smoothly as Vicky eased back the

ignition.

"Where is Gareth? "Jake shouted.

"Can't find him," answered Gregorius. "We'll have to go in one car,"

and then both of them swung round at the familiar bantering laugh.

Gareth Swales was leaning nonchalantly against the side of the car,

looking as unruffled and calm as ever, his hair neatly combed and the

tweed suit as immaculate as if it had just come from his tailor.

"say," smiled Gareth, crinkling his eyes against the drift of blue

smoke from the cheroot between his lips. "Big Jake Barton and his two

eager ducklings about to take on the entire Italian army." Vicky's

head appeared in the driver's hatch.

"We've been looking for you," she shouted furiously.

"Ah," quoth Gareth lightly. "We will now hear from the Girl Guides

Association."

"Sara is out there." Gregorius ran to Gareth. "We are going to fetch

her. You and I will take the one car, Vicky and Jake the other."

"Nobody is going anywhere." Gareth shook his head, and Gregorius

seized the lapels of his suit and shook them urgently. "Sara. You

don't understand she's out there! We have to fetch her." say, old

lad, would you mind unhanding me, "murmured Gareth and removed

Gregorius" hands from his lapel. "Yes.

We know about Sara, but--2 Vicky yelled from the driver's hatch.

"Leave, him, Gregorius. We don't need anyone who is afraid-" and

Gareth straightened up abruptly, his expression grim and his eyes

snapping.

"I have been called many things in my life, my dear young lady. Some

of them justified, but nobody has ever called me a coward."

"Well, there is always a first time, buster," shouted Vicky, her face

crimson with anger and streaked with dirt, her blonde hair ruffled and

hanging into her eyes and she pointed one quivering finger at Gareth,

"and for you this is that first time!" They stared at each other for a

moment longer before Lij Mikhael strode between them, his dark face set

but commanding.

"Major Swales is acting on my express orders, Miss Camberwell. I have

ordered that the cars and all my father's troops will fall back

immediately."

"Good God, man." Vicky transferred her anger from Gareth to the

Prince. "That's your daughter lying out there."

"Yes," said the Prince softly. "My daughter on the one hand my country

on the other.

There is no doubt which I must choose."

"You're not making sense, "Jake interposed roughly.

"I think I am." The Prince turned to him and Jake saw the dark torment

in the man's eyes. "I ca

Italians are seeking. An excuse to attack in full strength. We must

turn the other cheek now, and use this atrocity to win world

support."

"But Sara," Vicky interrupted. "We could pick her up in a minute."

"No." The Prince lifted his chin. "I ca

new weapons of ours. They must remain hidden until the time is right

to strike."

"Sara, cried Gregorius. "What of Sara?" "When these machines and the